"It was just a momentary lapse in calibration," Tony insisted, still breathing heavily, immediately dismissing the near-fatal incident as a minor technical hiccup. He carefully began to unclip the experimental repulsor device from his arm. "You go on up, Pep. I'll be right there."
Pepper shot Tony a look of sheer exasperation and worry, then ascended silently, her footsteps echoing her disapproval.
Leo walked calmly over to Tony's side. He didn't offer help, he didn't gloat—he simply observed the complex clips and screws holding the device onto Tony's arm. Leo twitched his fingers, a minute gesture invisible to the naked eye, and all the mechanical clips sprang open. The tiny screws rapidly spun out of their threads and flew to the side, where they neatly lined themselves up on the workbench.
The entire repulsor unit instantly dropped from Tony's arm, but instead of hitting the floor, it floated briefly before smoothly flying onto the metal storage frame, settling perfectly into its designated slot.
Tony stared at the perfectly aligned screws and the empty space where the repulsor had been. His jaw dropped.
"Mr. Stark, there's a fundamental issue with that energy frequency setting," Leo noted, ignoring Tony's shock. "We can easily control the amount of energy output. It doesn't need to be so high—just sufficient as an auxiliary flight device."
Leo pointed toward the opposite side of the room, where the heavy wooden table, the one that had been in the path of the initial repulsor blast, now lay in two neatly sliced pieces.
"However, this frequency setting you accidentally found? It's perfect for a weapon," Leo concluded.
"What... how did you learn to do that? That's not just moving things with your mind, that's controlling the internal mechanics, the magnetic field of the material itself!" Tony ran his hands through his hair, his mind desperately trying to categorize the impossible display. "It's so utterly supernatural, Leo!"
"Mr. Stark, the universe is vast and chaotic. Even I don't know the exact mechanism or origin," Leo replied, shrugging off the complexity. "When can we schedule that blood draw, by the way? I'm genuinely curious about my own biological makeup now."
Leo glanced at the square, brown-wrapped gift box Pepper had left behind. "Obadiah is upstairs. Guess what he wants to talk about?"
"It's always about the company. Doesn't matter. Everything will settle down once my actual research results—the Mark II—make their debut," Tony said, grabbing the coffee and downing half of it in one gulp.
The two went up to the main hall.
The first thing Leo noticed was not Obadiah Stane, but the music filling the room. Obadiah was seated at the grand piano, his back to them, playing an intense, flowing piece. The music resonated with a deep, dramatic tension that immediately set Leo's teeth on edge.
Leo couldn't help a small, knowing chuckle that quickly subsided.
Piano Concerto in C Major. The composer was Antonio Salieri, the Italian master. Historically, Salieri was often linked to his younger contemporary, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Legend—unproven, sensationalized, but enduring—held that Salieri was so consumed by jealousy of Mozart's effortless, sublime genius that he plotted to destroy him.
The music fits the moment perfectly, Leo thought. It's the soundtrack to Obadiah's life right now: a gifted older master, consumed by envy for the reckless, untamed genius of his protégé. The entire situation was a perfect analogy for Obadiah and Tony. Leo quickly suppressed his smile, retreating into his preferred state of invisibility.
"How are things at the company, Obie?" Tony asked, walking toward the coffee table. He immediately spotted a large New York-style pizza box. "Oh, things are getting bad, aren't they? You had to bring the comfort food."
Obadiah didn't stop playing the final crescendo of the piece. "I simply brought back pizza from New York. That doesn't mean things are dire, Tony."
Tony, whose stomach was still recovering from the forced noodle consumption, eagerly opened the box. "That's true. The pizza is amazing," he exclaimed, picking up a slice.
Obadiah finished the piece, stood, and walked over, his expression one of weary concern. "If you had been there, the outcome might have been better, Tony."
"You told me to keep a low profile, and I have! I've been keeping a low profile, so you handle the paperwork, Obie!"
"I meant, this was a board meeting, Tony," Obadiah said, sitting down heavily next to him.
"A board meeting?" Tony frowned, taking a huge bite of pizza.
"Where did this child come from, Tony?" Obadiah asked, finally noticing Leo standing quietly near the entrance.
"Ignore him. He's my new lab assistant. Continue," Tony waved his hand dismissively.
Obadiah disregarded Leo, who stood only 1.28 meters tall, and focused entirely on Tony. "The board believes your recent post-traumatic stress symptoms are severe. They are preparing to issue a mandatory injunction."
"A what?"
"They're planning to kick you out of the CEO chair," Obadiah replied, his tone sympathetic but firm.
Tony looked incredulous. "Why? Just because the stock plummeted? Didn't we account for a forty-point drop?"
"It dropped 56.5 points, Tony," Pepper interjected, walking toward them with a worried expression.
Tony spun around, slightly angry. "That's immaterial! We have the controlling interest!"
"Tony, the board still has leverage. They are actively searching for any pretext to fire you, claiming your new, anti-weapons research direction is not in the best financial interests of the company," Obadiah said, leaning in.
"This is my new direction! This is my new responsibility! This is—and this should be—the company's goal!" Tony shouted, trying to defend his sudden moral pivot.
Seeing Obadiah's subtle, mocking expression and Pepper's look of disappointed skepticism, Tony deflated immediately. "You guys did a stellar job of defending me," he said sarcastically, standing up. He grabbed his remaining slice of pizza and prepared to storm back downstairs. "I'm going to the studio."
"Don't do this, Tony, Tony, hey, listen," Obadiah quickly got up and put a heavy arm around Tony's shoulder. "I am fighting for you. I'm trying to buy you time and spin this around. But you have to give me something to appease them and hold them off!"
Obadiah's true motive finally surfaced. His eyes fixed on the softly glowing reactor beneath Tony's shirt. "Let me get a few engineers to analyze that device, draw up some preliminary sketches. Just a concept."
"No. Absolutely not," Tony said, firm and immediate, pulling away before Obadiah could finish.
"That way I can use it to deal with those fools in New York! It proves you're still innovating!"
"I'm doing this entire project myself, Obie. No questions, no compromises. Forget about it. Don't even think about it!" Tony's voice brooked no argument. He turned to leave.
Obadiah snatched the pizza box from his hand, a fake scowl on his face. "Fine! I'll eat the rest of this pizza myself then!"
"Here, have another slice. Or two, if you like," Obadiah offered, opening the box in a final attempt at conciliation.
"Thank you!" Tony grabbed two more slices and hurried toward the stairs. "Goodnight, Obie!"
Leo walked slowly toward the descending stairs, but paused, glancing back at Obadiah, who stood alone holding the pizza box. He approached the older man.
"Mr. Obadiah, may I have a slice?" Leo asked politely, his eyes large and innocent.
Obadiah looked down at the child, a sudden, calculating smile spreading across his face. "Oh, I remember you. The boy from the factory last time. You are indeed a charming child. Of course you can, help yourself."
He pulled out a slice and handed it to Leo. Obadiah then leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, seductive whisper. "Tony sent you along, so you must know what he's doing down there, right? Tell me what he's building—just a small hint—and I'll give you the whole rest of the pizza. Deal?"
Leo took a bite of the pizza, chewing thoughtfully. "Sorry, Mr. Obadiah. I can't tell you anything."
Obadiah's expression changed instantly, a momentary flicker of cold, ruthless rage crossing his face.
Seeing the shift, Leo didn't wait. He quickly ran toward the basement stairs, chewing his slice.
Obadiah watched the boy disappear, then turned to Pepper. "What is the deal with that child, Pepper?"
Pepper shrugged, exasperated. "I don't know, Obadiah. Who knows what's going on in Tony's head anymore?"
Tony, munching on his pizza, was back at his computer, already ignoring the crisis above.
"Mr. Stark, based on your conversation, do you now acknowledge Mr. Obadiah's true purpose?" Leo asked, entering the basement.
"So what if I do? The man's worried about stock prices. I never intended to let him use this technology for profit anyway," Tony said, swallowing the last bite of pizza and wiping his hands.
"Can you make one for me, Mr. Stark? I want to try what it feels like." Leo swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the glowing Arc Reactor in Tony's chest, a profound hunger in his gaze.
"What? An Arc Reactor? Are you out of your mind?" Tony spun around, incredulous.
"Yes, Mr. Stark. And have you seriously thought about what would happen if one day this one in your chest were taken away? You must have a contingency plan, shouldn't you?" Leo pressed, the intensity of his desire for the device now thinly veiled by a cloak of practical concern. I need that energy, and he needs a backup.