An hour later, backstage at the press conference.
The atmosphere in the lounge was tense—or rather, only Pepper was tense.
Henry and Tony stood in front of the mirror, casually straightening their suits. They looked like they were about to attend a boring dinner party, not a press conference that could decide the future of Stark Industries.
Pepper, meanwhile, fussed over Tony like a worried wife, fixing his perpetually crooked tie while scolding him non-stop.
"Listen, Tony, when you get on stage, you must follow the script! Every tricky question has already been anticipated and written with the proper answers. All you have to do is read! Do not improvise. Do you hear me?!"
"This is the sixteenth time you've said that! I got it already." Tony waved a hand dismissively, but still let Pepper adjust his tie.
"Pepper, you're worse than my mom. Relax, I'm a genius. Handling a few reporters is child's play. Honestly, they should feel honored just to see me in person."
As he said that, he kept chatting with Henry, clearly not taking Pepper's warnings seriously.
"Hey, Henry, after this, how about cheeseburgers? I swear I could eat two right now."
"Two? Too little." Henry was admiring his outrageously handsome face in the mirror, not even glancing at Tony.
"I'll need at least four. Double cheese, extra bacon. And only from that corner shop—their patties are the juiciest."
Pepper looked at the two carefree idiots and felt her blood pressure spike again.
The whole world was waiting for their answers, and these two were talking about dinner.
Natasha stood silently off to the side, the perfect assistant. She said nothing, only observed, recording every detail in her mind.
Finally, it was time.
The staff opened the doors to the stage, and a tidal wave of flashing lights and clicking shutters crashed inside.
Tony and Henry stepped onto the podium, unfazed by the blinding light. They quickly adapted, even starting to enjoy the spotlight.
"Ladies and gentlemen, my fellow Americans, and all those watching the livestream ready to buy my company's stock," Tony began with his signature arrogance.
"I know you all have a lot of questions, and I also know they're probably boring. But since you're all so enthusiastic, and I'm in a good mood, I'll reluctantly answer a few."
The crowd laughed, and the atmosphere loosened instantly.
A brunette reporter—Christine, the same one who'd once had a one-night stand with Tony—jumped in first.
"Mr. Stark!" Her voice rang clear.
"You recently announced Stark Industries will permanently shut down its weapons division. Don't you think this decision was too hasty? Do you realize what a massive impact this will have on U.S. defense and your company's stock price?"
"Hasty?" Tony sneered, as if to say you're teaching me how to run my business?
What a joke. With so many other revenue streams, did she really think the company would collapse?
"Miss, let me correct you. Any decision I make is far more well-considered than the next cover headline of Vanity Fair. As for impact? Of course there's an impact. U.S. defense will become a little more eco-friendly without Stark weapons. And our stock? Still stable—and soon to soar to new heights thanks to a revolutionary new clean energy project. So, next question."
His reply was airtight: confident and domineering.
Another reporter immediately stood.
"Mr. Henry! About the recent battle in New York, video footage shows you possessing powers beyond human capability—even flight. Are you a superhuman? Or, like your brother, are you using some kind of advanced armor?"
Henry leaned against the podium, picked up his mic, and looked at the reporter like he was an idiot.
"Superhuman? Please, that word is far too discriminatory. I prefer 'genetic advantage.' As for armor? Yeah, sure, but I only wear it to block the sun. You know California sunlight—it's brutal. I don't want this handsome face getting tanned. And flying…"
He paused, then delivered his nonsense with a straight face.
"That's actually Stark Industries' latest personal transport tech. Designed to solve city traffic jams. Imagine commuting without gridlock—just fly straight to work! Of course, you'll need to afford one of our jetpacks… and pass a flight license exam."
The hall erupted in laughter. A serious question, turned into a joke.
But then, the sharp-voiced reporter from The Daily Bugle jumped up again.
"Mr. Stark! Mr. Henry!" she shouted, sharp and loud.
"Stop dodging! Regarding that battle, the internet has already given you nicknames! They call Mr. Tony 'Iron Man' and Mr. Henry 'Superman!' What do you say to these names? Do you accept them?!"
The entire room fell silent.
All eyes locked on Tony and Henry.
The atmosphere froze.
It was a question they couldn't avoid.
The smile slipped from Tony's face.
He glanced at Pepper, who looked nervous, then at Henry, who looked completely indifferent.
After a moment of silence, Tony raised his mic.
"Iron Man? Superman?" He sneered, tone dismissive.
"What era are we living in? Could you come up with lamer names? Honestly, your imagination is pathetic. I'm just a businessman—a peace-loving one, who happens to save the world on the side. As for Iron Man, that's just my bodyguard. A codename. Like 007. He handles my protection and takes care of minor nuisances I don't want to."
The reporters looked disappointed.
Too official. Too boring.
They weren't satisfied—they wanted fireworks.
Then Tony's gaze faltered.
He seemed to be wrestling with himself.
He saw the endless cameras, the countless eyes behind them.
He remembered the cold Afghan cave. Remembered Yinsen. Remembered Obadiah's false smile. Remembered everything Henry had done for him.
He took a deep breath. Slowly raised his head.
And into the cameras, word by word, he said:
"Fine. Cards on the table."
"Screw being a businessman."
"I am Iron Man."
BOOM!!!
The entire press conference exploded into chaos!
Reporters went mad.
They surged toward the podium, shouting questions from every direction.
"Mr. Stark! Are you admitting you're the armored man?!"
"Why do this? Aren't you afraid of government backlash?!"
Amid the frenzy, Henry casually lifted another mic, his face wearing a helpless smile.
Of course. The iconic scene had arrived.
One sentence to open a new era.
He shrugged at the frenzied crowd.
"Alright, fine," he said.
"I am Superman."
***
69 stones is close so I'll drop bonus
And i started Another fanfiction if you guys are interested.
One piece: Reign in the name of Shinigami
You can go to my profile to check. Thanks for the support 🙏
If you're interested and wish to support me, you can read advanced chapters:
p-atreon.com/Redestro666