Tony's skepticism was written clearly across his face, the look of someone who suspected they were being sold a bridge in Brooklyn. He didn't believe for a second that beings more powerful than Smith existed on Earth, and nothing Smith said was going to change his mind through words alone.
Smith recognized that expression and couldn't help but smile. "You'll see soon enough. The world is becoming more interesting by the day."
Tony scoffed, leaning back in his chair with the confidence of someone who'd never encountered a problem engineering couldn't solve. "So you're not even in the top ten? That's almost insulting."
He gestured at himself with mock grandeur. "Meanwhile, I'm the world's greatest scientific mind. Give me time, and I'll develop armor so advanced it'll make tonight's performance look like a practice run." His grin turned competitive. "Then I'll take on you and all these supposedly superior beings you keep mentioning. One by one, I'll prove what human ingenuity can accomplish."
Nothing Smith said seemed to penetrate Tony's certainty. In Stark's worldview, any problem could be solved with sufficient application of intelligence and resources. He'd already identified a dozen improvements to the Mark III just from tonight's beating. Better structural reinforcement, faster reaction times, more powerful weapons systems. The armor could evolve, could adapt, could overcome.
Just because he'd lost this round didn't mean he'd lose the next.
Smith's mind wandered through the various iterations of Iron Man armor he'd seen in comics and films from his previous life. Some of those designs were genuinely terrifying in their capabilities, the Hulkbuster, the Godkiller, the armor infused with Cosmic Cube energy. Tony wasn't wrong to be confident. Given time and motivation, Stark would build weapons that could challenge gods.
Although, Smith reflected with dark amusement, Tony also had a habit of building "Anti-[Insert Name]" suits that always seemed to get dismantled by whoever they were designed to counter. Would there eventually be an Anti-Smith armor? And would he end up being the one to tear it apart?
The mental image was amusing enough to pull a genuine laugh from him. "Alright, Tony. When you've got your next-generation armor ready, we'll do this again."
It was a fair challenge. Tony could upgrade his technology, and Smith could continue developing his abilities. The Saiyan bloodline alone offered nearly limitless potential for growth, every battle, every near-death experience, every push beyond his limits would trigger genetic adaptation. And that was before factoring in the Dokkan Battle system's wish draw and whatever other templete he might acquire.
Smith was confident his rate of improvement would vastly exceed Tony's engineering timeline. But there was no need to say that out loud. Let Tony have his confidence. It would make him work harder.
Smith rose from the couch, stretching muscles that were pleasantly warm from the earlier exertion. "We've had our fun for tonight. Unless there's something else, I should get Bulma home."
Tony stood as well, his mind clearly already racing ahead to modifications and redesigns. He'd be in his workshop until dawn at least, feeding ideas to JARVIS and sketching improvements. "Yeah, I've got work to do anyway."
He walked them toward the door, his usual cocky grin firmly in place. "Next time we spar, I'm taking you down. Mark my words."
"I'll look forward to it."
Tony's attention shifted to Bulma. "I'll have Pepper order whatever equipment you need and ship it to your location. Should arrive within a few days."
Bulma's face lit up. "Thank you, Tony! That's incredibly generous."
She paused at the threshold, a mischievous gleam entering her eyes. "And next time? Maybe it'll be me in the armor sparring with you."
Smith caught the implication immediately, Bulma had been inspired by the Mark suits, her brilliant mind already designing improvements and alterations. He briefly considered warning her that mecha technology had limitations in this universe, that she'd be better off focusing on android development or biotechnology. But he held his tongue. Let her explore, experiment, make her own discoveries. That was how genius worked.
Tony chuckled indulgently, clearly not taking the teenage girl's challenge seriously. He simply waved as they departed, his mind already back in his workshop mentally.
"See you around, kid."
The moment Smith's Mercedes disappeared down the coastal road, Tony descended to his workshop with single-minded purpose. The damaged Mark III stood on its deployment platform like a monument to his defeat, dented, deformed, metal plates fractured in several locations.
He circled the armor slowly, examining the damage with a critical eye. The impact points told a story. Smith had held back significantly, had to have, or the armor would have been completely destroyed rather than merely crippled. Which meant tonight's demonstration wasn't even close to Smith's full capabilities.
That realization should have been humbling. Instead, it was exhilarating. An actual challenge, a goal worth pursuing, a problem that couldn't be solved with money or charisma.
Tony dropped into his desk chair and addressed his AI. "JARVIS, you recorded everything, right?"
"Yes, sir. The engagement was captured from multiple angles, including telemetry from the Mark II during Ms. Bulma's observation."
"Excellent. Run a full analysis. I want numbers on Smith's strength, speed, reaction time, defensive capabilities, everything you can extrapolate."
Holographic displays materialized around Tony, showing frozen moments from the fight. Smith dodging the uni-beam, Smith executing that three-hit combination, Smith emerging unscathed from a direct repulsor hit.
"Sir, Mr. Smith's velocity varied considerably throughout the engagement, suggesting he was actively moderating his speed. However, the maximum observed speed during his burst movements exceeded Mach 4."
Tony grimaced. The Mark III topped out at Mach 3 in optimal conditions. "So he's faster than me."
Another holographic image appeared, the rock-paper-scissors sequence captured in excruciating detail. "Mr. Smith's primary advantage isn't raw speed, sir. It's his reaction time. Analysis suggests he can perceive and respond to threats in the single-digit millisecond range. He was tracking your attacks before you completed them."
That explained why dodging the uni-beam had looked so effortless. By the time the beam fired, Smith had already moved based on the preliminary power buildup and targeting lock.
"Force analysis?" Tony asked.
"Based on the deformation of the gold-titanium alloy and the observed acceleration imparted to the armor, Mr. Smith's strikes delivered force in excess of ten tons. Possibly significantly more, the armor's structural failure limits our ability to measure the upper bound."
JARVIS paused, then added with what might have been artificial intelligence humor, "Captain America, once considered humanity's pinnacle, would be comparable to an infant facing Mr. Smith."
Tony snorted. "Thanks for that image."
"Sir, by the same metrics, you are also comparable to an infant in front of him."
"Okay, we're done with the baby analogies, JARVIS." Tony waved away the holographic displays, though he was grinning despite himself. His AI had developed quite the personality over the years.
"Save that footage to my private server. Maximum encryption, air-gapped storage. No one sees this without my explicit authorization."
"Understood, sir."
Tony's fingers drummed against the desk as his mind shifted to the armor's failures. "Add to the design queue: improved waterproofing. The armor took on water when I hit the ocean, which accelerated your system failure. That's unacceptable."
"Noted."
"Also, internal atmospheric recycling. If the external systems fail, I want at least eight hours of breathable air." More lessons from nearly drowning in his own armor. "Water reclamation system too. And temperature regulation, both heating and cooling."
The list grew as Tony verbalized every vulnerability tonight's fight had exposed. JARVIS catalogued each requirement dutifully.
Finally, Tony addressed the fundamental issue. "What's the strongest metal we have access to? I need options."
"Vibranium remains the strongest known material, sir. Captain America's shield was forged by your father using vibranium and an unknown alloy combination."
Tony shook his head immediately. "I don't know Dad's exact formula, and pure vibranium has a fatal flaw, it becomes inert under ultrasonic frequencies. I'm not building an armor that can be disabled by the right sound wave."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with the thrill of an impossible challenge. "New project, JARVIS. Research and development of a proprietary alloy. Requirements: hardness sufficient to withstand superhuman impacts, no exploitable weaknesses, manufacturable at scale."
"Initiating materials research protocols, sir."
"And the weapons systems need a complete overhaul. Missiles didn't work. Repulsors didn't work. Even the uni-beam barely got his attention." Tony's grin turned predatory. "Time to get creative."
JARVIS's tone carried digital approval. "I'll begin compiling options, sir. Shall I prioritize exotic physics applications?"
"Absolutely. Nothing's off the table. If it's theoretically possible, I want it in the database."
As JARVIS began pulling up research papers and experimental data, Tony settled in for a long night of work. Outside, the Pacific continued its eternal rhythm against the cliffs. But down in the workshop, surrounded by the wreckage of his armor and the promise of something better, Tony Stark did what he did best.
He got to work solving the impossible.
Hundreds of miles away, in a very different setting, Obadiah Stane climbed out of his black SUV onto the dusty ground of a remote encampment. The sun had set hours ago, leaving only the glow of scattered campfires to illuminate the collection of tents and makeshift structures.
His security detail fanned out behind him, four heavily armed men who'd proven their loyalty through years of morally questionable service. They were competent, discreet, and knew when to keep their mouths shut.
Raza emerged from the largest tent; his silhouette backlit by interior lights. He'd been a useful asset, the Ten Rings Gang providing the sort of services that couldn't be contracted through legitimate channels. Though recent events had complicated their relationship.
Obadiah approached with his best negotiator's smile, the one that had closed a thousand deals. "If you'd finished the job earlier, you wouldn't have lost so many men." He let false sympathy color his tone. "I heard about the attack today. Unfortunate."
Raza's expression remained cold. "Unfortunate? You failed to mention we'd be targeting Tony Stark specifically. That's the kind of information that affects pricing."
"Details." Obadiah waved dismissively. "Now, let's see what you've called me all the way out here for."
Raza studied him for a long moment, dark eyes unreadable. Finally, he gestured toward the tent entrance. "Your bodyguards wait outside."
Obadiah signaled his men to stand down, then followed Raza into the tent. Whatever he wanted to show him, it was sensitive enough to demand privacy.
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