INT. STARK SAFEHOUSE – KITCHEN – MORNING
The sunlight spills into the room, warm and golden.
Birds chirp softly outside. A peaceful desert breeze drifts through the half-open window.
TONY STARK, still in pajama pants and a robe, stands at the kitchen island making pancakes with unnecessary flair — flipping them midair with repulsor-assisted tongs.
TONY (to himself):
"Four flips, perfect landings… still got it."
A small voice speaks up behind him:
FRANKLIN (cheerful):
"Can I get the smiley face one?"
Tony turns, surprised.
TONY:
"Whoa. You're up early."
FRANKLIN:
"I didn't sleep much."
Tony studies him — he seems… calm. Normal.
Too normal?
TONY (casual):
"Weird dreams again?"
FRANKLIN (smiling):
"Just stars. Nothing bad."
TONY (half-joking):
"Define 'stars,' little man. Big ball of gas or memory of dying universes?"
Franklin shrugs and slides onto the barstool.
FRANKLIN (innocently):
"Just twinkly ones."
Tony stares a second longer, then drops a pancake onto a plate.
TONY:
"Alright, smiley face pancakes it is."
INT. LIVING ROOM – LATER
Franklin is curled up on the couch, watching cartoons.
His eyes flick toward Natalie Rushman as she walks by, holding a datapad.
She nods politely. He waves.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"She knows I'm lying. But she won't say anything yet."
He watches a cartoon superhero fly across the screen.
He raises a hand — and silently causes the cartoon character to reverse time and fly backwards, just for fun.
TONY (O.S., laughing):
"You know the TV doesn't work that way, right?"
Franklin quickly hides his hand and grins.
FRANKLIN:
"Maybe it's broken."
INT. FRANKLIN'S ROOM – MIDDAY
The room is filled with toys, drawings, soft pillows. A perfect kid's room.
Franklin sits on the floor, stacking blocks.
He picks up one… and instead of placing it, it hovers perfectly in place above the others.
He sighs.
Then knocks them all down — with his hand.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"I could build a city in seconds. But Tony likes when I build it slow."
INT. STARK WORKSHOP – DOORWAY – MOMENTS LATER
Franklin peeks into the lab, where Tony's welding something, music playing loud.
Tony doesn't notice him watching — smiling, focused, human.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"He doesn't know what I am."
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"But he treats me like who I want to be."
Franklin smiles.
Just a little.
Then turns and walks away — quietly, carefully, like a normal 5-year-old boy.
INT. SAFEHOUSE – FRANKLIN'S ROOM – NIGHT
Franklin lies in bed.
Eyes open.
The room is quiet.
He raises one hand and a galaxy forms over his palm — delicate, glowing, slowly spinning.
He watches it with awe.
Then closes his fingers — and it vanishes.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"Maybe I'll be a kid for a little while longer."
He rolls over, pulling the blanket tighter.
Outside, the stars are watching.
But for now —
he's pretending they're just stars.
The sun sets over the desert, casting the room in soft orange light.
TONY STARK sits at a sleek glass table, barefoot, a tablet in one hand and a half-drunk espresso in the other.
Across from him is Natalie Rushman, dressed in business casual — calm, composed, legs crossed, datapad on her lap.
Stacks of financial reports, strategy slides, and prototype projections cover the table between them.
TONY:
"So you're telling me we can't just pivot the entire company into clean energy overnight because… stockholders have feelings?"
NATASHA (dry):
"Feelings. Lawsuits. And two very angry board members from your weapons division who still think you're going through a midlife crisis."
TONY:
"Joke's on them. I skipped the crisis and went straight to adopting a cosmic toddler."
She raises an eyebrow.
NATASHA:
"Which, weirdly, is doing better for your PR than any campaign we've run in a decade."
Tony scrolls through a projection.
TONY:
"So what do we expand into? I'm not making missiles anymore. And I'm not interested in being another Apple with arc reactors."
NATASHA:
"Bio-tech. Defensive tech. Civil infrastructure. You've already laid the groundwork with the arc clean grid — the Stark Eco Initiative."
TONY:
"Yeah, but those are side projects. What about something that actually excites me? You know, something world-changing."
She looks at him carefully.
NATASHA:
"You've already changed the world. Now it's about what kind of world you want Franklin to grow up in."
That hits him harder than expected.
He leans back in his chair, sipping his drink.
TONY (quietly):
"You're good at this."
NATASHA:
"You hired me."
TONY:
"That's still up for debate."
She smirks.
He taps his tablet and brings up a 3D projection of a new Stark campus: sleek, renewable-powered, tech-forward — a city, not just a lab.
TONY:
"What if we stopped building just tech… and started building systems? Cities. Homes. Transportation. A safer, cleaner life."
NATASHA:
"A future where your kid doesn't have to build a suit just to survive."
He nods slowly.
TONY:
"Exactly."
They both stare at the projection — glowing blue lines tracing new roads and solar towers.
NATASHA (softly):
"Stark Industries 2.0?"
TONY (smirking):
"Let's call it… The Next Chapter."
He holds out his espresso cup.
She clinks her water glass against it.
NATASHA:
"To the next chapter."
They sit quietly for a moment.
Then —
TONY:
"By the way, if I find out you're secretly spying on me for SHIELD or Fury or some shadow council, I'm installing a lie detector in your chair."
She smiles politely.
Says nothing.
And keeps watching him.
INT. STARK SAFEHOUSE – FRANKLIN'S ROOM – NIGHT
The room is softly lit. A gentle wind brushes the curtains. On the desk sits a coloring book, half-finished.
Franklin is on the floor, cross-legged, surrounded by toys, papers, and a few floating crystal shards — ones he created.
He isn't playing.
He's planning.
FRANKLIN'S POV – THOUGHTSPACE
We dive into his mind.
What we see isn't blueprints.
It's not tech.
It's galaxies being formed, pocket worlds, bubbles of reality, stitched together with golden light and gentle care.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"In my last life, I made universes… but I never made a home."
We see an image of Earth.
Not this Earth. An idealized one. Clean skies. Smiling faces. Balance.
Then — flashes of broken timelines. War. Machines. Kang's face.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"I destroyed timelines because I thought they couldn't be saved."
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"But this one… maybe this one's different."
INT. ROOM – BACK TO REALITY
Franklin draws quietly now.
A crayon sketch on a blank page.
What he draws looks like a small city, floating above the clouds. Kids flying without wings. Trees that light up like stars. Peace.
TONY (O.S., gently):
"Whatcha making?"
Franklin looks up.
Tony leans in the doorway, sipping from a mug.
FRANKLIN:
"A better place."
Tony smiles.
TONY:
"You and me both, kid."
Franklin smiles back — warm, but distant. He hides the paper.
INT. STARK WORKSHOP – LATER THAT NIGHT
Franklin walks in quietly while Tony's asleep in the chair.
He stares at the holographic model of Tony's new "clean city" concept — the one from earlier.
He lifts his hand… and without touching anything, adds new structures to it. Enhancements. Symbols. Cosmic geometry hidden in the layout. Gentle nudges of balance.
He steps back.
Smiles faintly.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"He doesn't need to know. Not yet."
EXT. DESERT SKY – ABOVE THE SAFEHOUSE – NIGHT
A ripple of energy spreads softly from the compound — barely visible, golden, and harmless. But it echoes… across space.
Something out there feels it.
But Franklin doesn't care.
Not yet.
He's busy making plans.
Not for war. Not for escape.
For life.
FRANKLIN (V.O.):
"This time… I'll protect it before it breaks."