Namor asked, "Then there are predefined paths?"
"You have to understand, Namor," Tony said, gesturing to the infinite scrolling lists on his own interface. "This isn't a vending machine with five fixed options. T'Challa didn't just 'get' precognition because he was assigned it. He analyzed the market and bought Precognition—the ability to see moments into the future by processing the world's hidden variables. He chose it because it suited his needs as a king. I chose Magnetism. The system doesn't limit what you can become; it only asks if you can afford the bill. If you have the credits, you could theoretically buy the strength of a star or the speed of thought itself."
T'Challa inclined his head, his gaze steady. "Stark is correct. My foresight is a purchased capability, not a fixed limit. As my kingdom's resources will be recycled through the Ledger, I am not restricted to the mind alone. I intend to explore biological hardening and energy redirection. We are only limited by our ambition and our capital."
Namor looked back at his panel, seeing the Apex Survivor package and Hydrokinesis as merely the first steps on a ladder that disappeared into the clouds. He saw options for Abyssal Durability, Sonic Resonance, and even Bio-Luminescent Command.
"Then I have been thinking too small," Namor murmured, his pride shifting into ambition.
I turned my gaze toward Wanda. She had been sitting quietly, watching the titans of the world trade empires for evolution. "Wanda," I said, my voice grounding the room. "It's time we talked about your path. You've seen them buy their way into new realities, and perhaps you think your position at Umbrella isn't enough to compete."
She looked up, her eyes tinged with uncertainty. "I don't have the gold of the oceans or the tech of Stark Industries, Aryan."
"You have something more profound. You and Pietro have a power deep inside—a dormant, metaphysical force that hasn't awakened yet. I am going to purchase the Perfect Super Soldier Serum for both of you. In your case, it isn't just for physical prowess; it is the biological foundation required to bridge the gap between your human shell and that sleeping energy. Without it, the awakening would be too much for a normal body to handle."
The table went silent as the gravity of my words sank in.
"I didn't do this at the estate," I explained, "because we are constantly under the microscopic lens of global government agencies. If you had manifested these powers there, they wouldn't have seen you as people—they would have seen you as weapons to be claimed and dissected. But here, through the Castle, we can authorize the catalyst safely. When we return, we will bring Pietro in, discuss the risks, and then—finally—you will both be what you were meant to be."
Wanda's face went pale, but her hands remained steady. She realized I hadn't been holding her back out of reservation, but shielding her until the sanctuary of the Fog provided a safe path to her own potential.
Tony slapped the table, looking at the group with a grin. "So, that's the plan. We've got a two billionaire, two kings, and two sleeping powerhouses. The Tarot Club is officially open for business."
As the interfaces flickered with endless possibilities, the members of the Tarot Club dove into the systemic archives, searching for the specific "keys" to their future. The silence of the castle was replaced by the low hum of shifting data as three of the world's most powerful men began to redefine their existence.
Tony's fingers moved with a blur of motion. He didn't just want raw power; he wanted the capacity to process it.
"I'm hitting a bottleneck," Tony muttered. "The suit is fast, but my organic brain can only track so many variables at once."
He finally settled on Cognitive Multitasking (Gamma Level). For $100,000,000, the system would partition his consciousness, allowing him to focus on complex engineering, tactical combat, and AI management simultaneously without a drop in focus. But he didn't stop there. He authorized Technopathy (10-meter range) for a staggering $15 Billion. This was the ability to "feel" and command the machines within his immediate vicinity as if they were his own limbs.
T'Challa focused on the fundamental law of his nation: kinetic energy. While his suit was made of Vibranium, his body remained vulnerable to the overflow of force. He looked at the Kinetic Energy Absorption tiers.
"The suit has its limits," T'Challa reasoned. "I must become the conduit myself."
He chose to invest in a dual-tier biological hardening. He purchased the 350kJ Limit for $100 Million to handle minor impacts, but quickly moved to the 700kJ Limit for $1 Billion. This upgrade would allow his actual bone structure and muscle tissue to absorb and store massive amounts of physical force, turning a lethal blow from a tank shell into a mere surge of energy he could later release.
Namor's eyes glowed as he addressed his two greatest tactical hurdles. He authorized Marine Life Telepathy for $10 Billion, granting him command ability and an ability to have a conversation with every creature in the ocean.
However, his most vital purchase was Cellular Hydration for another $1 Billion.
"The sun has always been my cage," Namor said, his voice cold. "No longer."
This ability would allow his cells to retain 100% of their strength and moisture even in the harshest desert environments. The weakness that had plagued his bloodline for millennia—the rapid dehydration on the surface—was erased in a single transaction.
Tony leaned back, watching his balance drop. "Well, I'm officially the world's most expensive hardware-software hybrid. Namor, you're basically a walking ocean now. And T'Challa? Good luck to anyone trying to punch you."
T'Challa looked at his hands, though he felt no different yet. "The cost is high, but the price of remaining stagnant is higher. We have prepared our vessels for the awakening."
Wanda watched them, her heart racing. Seeing the men invest billions into their own evolution made her own upcoming awakening with Pietro feel even more significant. She wasn't just getting a "serum"; she was joining a league of individuals who were slowly stepping out of the shadows of humanity.
At last, The Fool spoke from the high throne. He remained a silent observer, a presence that existed outside their circle, watching the pieces move across the board. His voice defined the end. It was the sound of a door closing on one reality and opening on another.
"This gathering concludes."
The gray fog obeyed at once. The laws of space, which had been held steady by The Fool's presence, folded inward. The high, crystalline whistle Tony had described earlier returned, vibrating through their very souls. The long stone table began to blur into the mist, the edges of the pillars softening into shadows.
One by one, the seats vanished. Namor, T'Challa, Tony, and Wanda, felt the weightless pull—the sensation of their consciousness being retracted like a fishing line across the veil of dimensions.
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