As soon as Clark stepped onto Tony's private jet, the onboard TV was already tuned in to the news. Onscreen, Senator Stern was addressing the camera, his expression grim and authoritative.
"This proves that his technology can be replicated. And worse, that he's been treating his Iron Man suit like a toy. Mr. Stark once confidently claimed in a congressional hearing that no other version of his tech would appear for at least five to ten years.But today, in front of tens of thousands of witnesses, another Iron Warrior showed up—and he was hunting Tony Stark."
Tony sat in silence, watching the screen for a moment. Then, without a word, he reached over and switched the TV off.
"Enough of that," he muttered. "Let's talk about something else."
He pulled out the arc reactor he'd taken from the Monaco robot and placed it on the table in front of them. The small device still hummed softly, faint traces of blue energy pulsing through its crude framework.
"It's actually not bad," Tony admitted. "A little slow, sure, but not bad for a knockoff. The thing that bugs me is... it's nearly identical to mine. Practically a one-to-one replica. And I know I never leaked the designs."
He tapped his temple thoughtfully.
Clark, watching this, saw an opportunity to steer Tony toward the truth. "Tony, the blueprint—did you design the arc reactor entirely on your own? Or did you see it somewhere first?"
"Of course I made it myself," Tony replied immediately.
Clark raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that?" Because in Clark's memories—or rather, what little he remembered from the original timeline—the arc reactor design had actually originated from Tony's father.
There was a pause. Then Tony sighed. "Okay, fine. My dad drew up the original concept. I just... improved on it a little. But that's not the point." His expression changed as a new thought struck him.
"What if the leak came from back then? From my father's time. That would explain why their version looks so... outdated."
Before anyone could comment further, Pepper Potts spoke up quietly.
"Clark. Natasha. Can I have a moment alone with Tony?"
Clark glanced between them, then nodded. "Sure. We'll give you two some space."
He led Natasha out of the room, leaving Pepper and Tony alone.
She stepped closer, searching his face. "Tony... is there something you're not telling me?"
He hesitated. "What? No. What are you talking about?"
"Then why did you get behind the wheel today? You knew how dangerous that was."
She knew he wasn't being honest. And Tony knew she knew.
But he didn't want her worrying. Not about this. Not when he wasn't even sure he had much time left.
"I just... I didn't feel like going home. Cancel my birthday party. Since we're already in Europe... what do you say we head to Venice? Cipriani's still open, remember?"
Pepper blinked, surprised. The memory brought a rare, soft smile to her face.
"Of course I remember."
"Exactly. Some fresh air, a nice suite—it's good for mental health. Clark can fly back by himself."
But Pepper shook her head with a laugh. "Not now. I've got too much on my plate."
"Come on. This is the perfect excuse to take a break from the chaos."
"I am the chaos, Tony. I'm the CEO now. Someone has to run the company."
"You're also allowed a vacation, you know." His voice softened, hopeful.
Pepper's face turned serious. "A vacation? Now? Really?"
Yeah... that wasn't happening.
Back in Malibu, Tony wasted no time. While Pepper and Natasha got to work upstairs, Tony brought Clark straight into his basement lab.
"There. That's him."
With a few keystrokes, Tony pulled up a file on his computer and hit enter. A profile appeared.
Anton Vanko – Soviet physicist. Defected to the U.S. in 1963. Deported in 1967 for espionage.Son: Ivan Vanko, nuclear physicist. Convicted for trafficking weapons-grade plutonium. Currently serving a 15-year sentence.Additional information: classified.
Tony frowned. "You know why he was deported as a spy?"
Clark squinted at the file. The details were foggy in his mind. "Not exactly. Why?"
"Because my father believed he stole the arc reactor design."
Clark nodded. That lined up with what he remembered. And it explained a lot.
"Then today's attack makes sense," Tony said quietly.
Just then, the lab door slid open and James Rhodes stepped inside.
"Tony. Clark." He nodded toward Clark. "Been a while."
Clark nodded back as Rhodey turned to Tony with a sigh.
"I've spent the whole day convincing the Pentagon not to blow a hole through your house and confiscate your suits. You're welcome."
"Let them try," Clark muttered, crossing his arms.
"Okay, whoa. Easy there, big guy." Rhodey chuckled nervously. He knew exactly who Clark was—and more importantly, what he was capable of. The last time they saw him, he vaporized a missile mid-air like it was nothing.
According to the Pentagon's own assessments, it would take a direct hit from a megaton-class nuke with Clark standing still to have even a chance of taking him out.
So yeah, nobody wanted to make him mad.
Rhodey cleared his throat and turned back to Tony.
"You said it yourself, Tony—this tech wouldn't show up for at least twenty years. But now? It's here. Yesterday, someone used it. That wasn't just a man in armor—it was a robot wearing armor. You heard me, right?"
Tony didn't respond.
Instead, he slowly slumped against the table.
"Clark, could you grab a palladium core from the cigar box?"
Clark moved to the desk, pulled out a thin rectangular metal plate, and held it up.
"This one?"
"Yeah."
Tony nodded, then gritted his teeth as he removed the arc reactor from his chest. The device hissed, sputtered—and emitted a dark, acrid smoke.
Rhodey's eyes widened. "Is it supposed to do that?"
"The reactor wall's corroding," Tony replied, carefully extracting the spent palladium plate.
Rhodey caught a glimpse of it—and saw that it was almost completely burned through.
Then he noticed something else.
"Tony... what's that on your neck?"
A faint, spiderweb-like pattern of red and black veins crept up from Tony's collar.
"It's nothing. Just a scratch."
Rhodey didn't buy it for a second. "That's not a scratch, man. That's poison."
Tony didn't respond.
And in the silence that followed, the tension in the room thickened.
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