Tony's mind was a whirlwind of the impossible: Leo's chilling golden eyes, the broken baton, and the prophetic knowledge.
"But Tony, the records are so mundane," Pepper insisted, gesturing at the screen. "There's really nothing that screams 'supervillain child prodigy.'"
"No, this is the most baffling part," Tony corrected, his finger hovering over the screen. He randomly selected one of the hundreds of photos of Leo's model work—a miniature, intricately detailed sci-fi tank.
Jarvis automatically rendered a full-scale 3D wireframe model of the image, projecting it directly onto the workbench in front of them.
"Pepper, look closely at this," Tony instructed. "The details are handled with exceptional precision. For five hundred dollars, this is an absolute steal in the model community. But look at who made it: a ten-year-old kid!"
Tony brought his hand closer, and the projection automatically enlarged to match the change in the proximity of his palm, allowing them to inspect the absurd level of detail.
"The turret plating, the tiny welding seams—aside from the paint application, the cutting and etching work is microscopically meticulous. Pepper, this is metal. Low-grade, sure, but cutting and shaping metal like this requires high-precision tooling and incredible dexterity."
Tony shook his head in disbelief. "And get this: his records show he can churn one of these out in four days to a week. That speed is absolutely impossible, even for a seasoned artisan using CNC milling, let alone a child doing it manually!"
"This is definitely strange, Tony, I concede that," Pepper admitted, crossing her arms. "But what does it prove? That he's a gifted sculptor?"
"It proves Leo is special. Very special," Tony stated, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial level. "I need to talk to him. Pepper, do you still have his contact information?"
"Of course, I'll forward it to you later," she replied.
"Excellent, very good," Tony said, clapping his hands together, the crisis atmosphere completely dissipating.
Pepper held the old, crude reactor in her hand. "You really don't want to keep this? It saved your life."
"Pepper, I have many admirable qualities, but sentimentality is not one of them," Tony quipped.
Pepper glanced at the still-faintly-glowing reactor, the first machine to beat in his chest. "Anything else, Mr. Stark?"
"That's all, Miss Potts," Tony confirmed, the familiar, professional atmosphere returning instantly.
Pepper turned and walked out, clutching the old reactor, occasionally glancing back, a worried frown on her face.
Tony watched her leave, falling into a silence that stretched longer than usual. He had just tasked the woman he trusted most with his life, and now, he was plunging into secrecy.
Two weeks later.
Leander had successfully navigated his final exams and was officially on summer vacation, ready for junior high school in the fall.
"Peter!" He grinned, catching Peter Parker, who was rushing toward him, and pulled him into a quick, affectionate hug. "Let's get out of here!"
Peter, a bright-eyed second grader, now ready for third, took Leo's hand as they walked the short distance to Leo's house.
Today, Aunt Jenny was celebrating Leo's exam success with a backyard barbecue, and Aunt May had been invited. Over the past year, the two families had grown incredibly close. Peter often came over for dinner when May worked late shifts. May trusted Leo and Aunt Jenny implicitly, allowing her to focus fully on her job.
"Peter, what are you planning for this summer? Still thinking of coming to Los Angeles with me?" Leo asked, looking down at the young boy.
"Leo! I want to go to the biggest amusement park!" Peter exclaimed with pure, unadulterated childish glee.
Leo slapped his forehead. "Right. He's just a kid."
"Peter, how about we watch some Transformers instead?"
"Yeah! Let's watch cartoons! The Autobots transform!" Peter excitedly ran ahead toward the living room TV.
Leo shook his head, a soft smile on his face. He briefly wondered how Tony was progressing. Has he started building the Mark I replacement yet? The timeline is critical.
Meanwhile, across the continent in Los Angeles, at a high-security combat flight training base, Lieutenant Colonel James "Rhodey" Rhodes was leading a tour.
"Will future air combat rely on remote drones or manned aircraft?" Rhodes posed to the fresh-faced pilots. "In my experience, no unmanned vehicle can replicate a pilot's directness, their insight, or their ability to instantly predict chaos."
Colonel Rhodes looked proudly at the recruits. "That, gentlemen, is pilot's judgment."
"Colonel," a familiar voice cut in from the side, "then why not just use pilots without airplanes?"
Rhodes looked over, a wide smile instantly appearing. He turned to the recruits. "Look who decided to grace us with his presence. Gentlemen, meet the aerial acrobat, Mr. Tony Stark."
"Speaking of questionable piloting," Tony said, stepping forward with a glint in his eye, "you should ask him about the time he miscalculated—it was Spring Break, 1987, right? The time with that lovely girl you—"
"Stop fooling around, Tony!" Rhodes cut him off with a loud, nervous laugh.
"What was her name again?" Tony pressed, grinning.
"Tony, stop joking. They'll actually believe you. Don't do that," Rhodes pleaded, unable to suppress his embarrassment.
"Alright, alright. Pleasure meeting you all," Tony conceded with a wink.
Rhodes addressed his squad: "Everyone, Mr. Stark and I need a moment of privacy. Please continue your tour."
Once they were alone, Rhodes looked genuinely pleased. "I am genuinely surprised, Tony! You're actually up and about so quickly!"
"What's so surprising, Rhodey?" Tony shrugged.
"I just didn't expect you to be socializing so soon after..."
Tony nodded, his expression shifting. "I can do more than just socialize, Rhodey. I'm doing something big."
"Oh yeah?" Rhodey sensed the seriousness underneath Tony's facade.
"Rhodes, I'm about to embark on a massive undertaking. I came here specifically to discuss it with you. I need you to join me."
Rhodes frowned, the smile fading. "Then you better make damn sure whatever it is, everyone is happy, because that little speech you gave the press was a declaration of war on the stock market."
Tony looked slightly embarrassed. "This isn't for the military, and I didn't mean to—look, this time is different."
"What?" Rhodes stared, incredulous. "You're a humanitarian now? You think you can change the world by building... what, zero-emission transport?"
"I need you to hear me out, Rhodey. Just listen to the plan." Tony looked at his friend with expectant hope.
But Rhodes flatly refused, his military demeanor taking over. "No need, Tony. All you need to do is calm down and issue a clarification. This isn't your field trip. There are contracts and national security at stake."
"I am serious!" Tony emphasized, his smile flickering.
Rhodes met his gaze intently. "I am serious too, Tony. You need to pull your head back down to earth."
Tony's bright eyes dimmed, disappointment and confusion washing over his face. He swallowed hard.
"Okay," he simply said.
Rhodes softened, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's still good to see you, Tony." He gave a squeeze, then quickly turned and walked away, leaving Tony alone among the fighter jets.
Tony stood blankly for a long time. His best friend had just drawn a hard line in the sand, choosing duty and the established order over him.
Back in the secure basement of his Malibu mansion, Tony reaffirmed his resolve. If he couldn't get support, he would proceed in secret.
He sat at his computer desk, activating the systems using a custom-designed ergonomic keyboard.
"You still with me, Jarvis?"
"At your service, sir," the AI replied immediately.
Tony rubbed his hands together, his gaze sweeping across the three massive screens displaying the rough data models of his improvised desert armor.
"Create a new project folder and name it 'Mark II'."
"Should these files be stored in Stark Industries' central database?"
Tony used a laser pointer to drag the armor model on the computer screen to the main control panel, where it instantly formed a half-person-high holographic model. The model then disassembled, breaking down into its individual components .
"To be honest, Jarvis, I don't know who to trust anymore," Tony admitted, standing and walking to the control panel. "Save everything on my private server for now, and apply the highest level of encryption. You are the only exception allowed to modify the code."
"So this is a secret project, is that correct, sir?" Jarvis replied, the voice completely flat.
Tony looked at the raw, bulky data model of the Mark I. He opened the visor on the holographic armor and began purging files.
"I don't want these blueprints to fall into the hands of the wrong people, Jarvis."
They began the rigorous process of streamlining the cumbersome Mark I. Tony gestured, and Jarvis digitally ripped out the unnecessary hydraulics and obsolete wiring, simulating the heavy, metallic clunk of each discarded part being thrown into the data trash can.
"Perhaps, Jarvis," Tony said, watching the simplified framework emerge, "I can still do some good in this world."
After stripping away the excess, Tony gave a gentle swipe across the control panel. The remaining, simple armor model began to rotate smoothly, revealing the elegant, refined prototype of the Mark II.