Tony Stark

Tony Stark was used to bad dreams. After the attack on New York, his sleep was often intermittent and unfulfilling, interspersed with various nightmares and stress dreams. He had grown so accustomed to this pattern, a good night's sleep had in fact become unusual, a strange oddity to be marvelled at.

So when Tony found himself walking through a garden, aware of his state of unconsciousness, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the portal to open and for the Chitauri to come pouring out, or for him to be pulled in, trapped in deep space. He knew that something awful was about to happen, it was just a matter of time.

Imagine his surprise, then, when instead of aliens, portals, or anything else that would make him afraid, he found himself simply standing in the garden, nothing changing. The plants around him, of every colour he could picture, bearing impossible fruits, stayed there, unmoved, only waving gently in the wind. His dream was just that, a dream. Not a nightmare, not a haunting vision, a dream. Pleasant and relaxing.

"Oh, I see you've found my garden." A voice interrupted his thoughts. Tony spun around at the sound, expecting some horrible monstrosity to finally have appeared. Instead, it was a man. A normal man, unremarkable in every sense. He wasn't handsome or ugly, his clothes didn't seek attention but nor did they fade into the background. It was as though he was designed to blend in, to be average. He gestured to the litany of plants around them.

"Do you like it?" he asked. Tony remained in slightly stunned silence for a second. This was... weird. Something about this was off, and not just the fact that he wasn't terrified by something. Even before New York, this just wasn't the sort of thing he dreamt about. Tony's brain was always working. He couldn't shut it off. Even in his dreams, he was thinking. He dreamt about the future, about his plans, about new ideas. Not gardens. He wondered perhaps if Wanda was using her powers on him again, pulling some kind of trick. It seemed unlikely, and Tony had thought that she had at least mostly forgiven him for his part in her parents' deaths. And even then, she needed to be close for her powers to work. There was no way she had managed to get into his room, not with the hundreds of security measures he had installed. So, not Wanda then. He stared up at the man, who was still waiting for an answer. Something else invading his mind, perhaps? When that thought entered his head, he swore he could see a small smile lift the corners of the strange man's mouth. Tony decided that it was a dream; if he was wrong, it wouldn't matter, but if he was right...

"Who the hell are you?" he demanded of the man. The man was holding back a smile for a few moments, before breaking into a huge grin, chuckling slightly as he did.

"Tony Stark! Able to see through me in a matter of moments! I like that!" He clapped his hands together, like a child excited for Christmas. "I mean, I knew I wouldn't be able to fool you forever, but I expected it to last at least a few minutes before I had to drop the facade."

"While I'm all for the praise, you haven't answered my question. Who are you?" Tony insisted. He wouldn't let this man lead the conversation in any other direction than answers. The man held his hands up in a calming gesture.

"Fine, fine. I'll get to the point. I'm a... god," he began, holding his finger up in a signal to wait when Tony opened his mouth, "Not like Thor, or Loki, an actual god. All-powerful. I'm here because I think you deserve a break, Tony Stark. I've been watching you for years now, and you deserve a reward for all of your efforts. Don't bother refusing, you can't. As soon as you wake up, the gift of truth will be yours, and there's nothing you can do to change that."

"The gift of truth? The hell is that?" Tony wasn't buying what this guy was selling.

"Let's call it... a taste of godhood. And it's okay that you don't believe me yet. You will." With those words, the man seemed to fade out of existence, leaving Tony staring into thin air.

"What the fuck..." he muttered under his breath. His vision seemed to be fading away, as the world around him became distorted, fragmented. He was waking up.