Once again, the weight of global opinion pressed down on Stark Industries—more precisely, on Tony himself.
Not long ago, during a congressional hearing, Tony had boldly guaranteed that the arc reactor was impossible to replicate—that no one could reproduce such technology within twenty years.
But the events that took place in Monaco were like a stinging slap to his face, as hard as the one he once gave Justin Hammer and that senator.
Pepper and Sharon Carter were upstairs, trying to handle the endless flood of press and government calls demanding answers, while Rhodey had come to find Tony, hoping he'd finally step in and fix the chaos.
Yet Tony was completely absorbed in upgrading his armor, not even noticing that Rhodey had been standing beside him for several minutes.
"Tony!" Rhodey shouted, his patience finally snapping, which at last drew Tony's attention.
"Huh? Rhodey? When did you get here?"
"I've been here for minutes! Listen, Tony—you need to get upstairs and take control of this situation right now. I've spent all day talking with the military, convincing them not to roll tanks to your doorstep to seize your suits. You know they've been drooling over your tech for ages."
"Okay, okay, I know. I'll handle it," Tony muttered irritably.
"Tony, you swore no one could have that technology for twenty years—and guess what? Yesterday, someone showed up with the same thing—"
"Not exactly the same. The rotation speed, structure, materials—"
"Who cares! They only care if it can power your armor or not."
"Fine, I get it. I'll—"
"Tony, you really need to focus this time!" Rhodey snapped. He and Pepper had been doing everything to contain the mess, and Tony just brushed it off, lost in his own world.
What did he take them for?
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Now please, go upstairs. I really need to concentrate."
"What the hell happened to you? What good is upgrading your armor now? Huh? Some terrorist scare you again? Or are you planning to start a war with the military?"
Rhodey couldn't understand what had driven Tony to this point. He'd always been egotistical, arrogant, sharp-tongued—but he was still responsible when it mattered. Not like this.
"I'm fine, really. I'm good."
"No, Tony, you're not."
A third voice suddenly echoed through the workshop. Both men turned toward it.
"Howard?"
"Dad! What are you doing here?"
Both were stunned—Tony because he hadn't seen his parents in ages, supposedly off traveling; Rhodey because he was shocked that Howard Stark was even alive.
After handing Stark Industries over to Tony, Howard had retired completely, vanishing from the public eye. No one could find him—not even a phone number. Some said he and Maria had died in secret, their funeral quietly held.
"It's been a while, Rhodey. Still looking sharp, I see. I'm glad."
"You too, sir… wait—your appearance!"
"Heh, we'll get to that later." Howard smiled faintly, then turned to Tony with a look of fatherly disappointment. "First, let's talk about you. You've already looked into Anton Vanko and his son Ivan, haven't you?"
"…So you came back just to lecture me?" Tony asked, frowning.
"Looks like you found the truth. Yes, everything you uncovered is correct. Anton was my assistant. We developed the arc reactor together. I saw it as a key to the future; he saw it as a quick way to make money. So I expelled him. That's the truth."
"Why tell me this? I already know—"
"Then why are you so restless?"
"I'm not restless—"
"You were saved by Garón once, then by him again, and this third time, it was Mu. Your pride's been wounded, so now you're impatient."
Howard wasn't really asking—he already knew. A father could read his son's heart better than anyone.
Rhodey stood aside, confused but intrigued. He knew the Stark family had secrets, but hearing this was beyond anything he imagined.
"Hey, old man! I wouldn't—"
"Oh, please, Tony. You're my son. You're exactly like I was. The Saints' overwhelming strength makes the crises we see look like children's games to them. Jealousy, envy—they build up until we start craving that same power.
Not just to outshine them or soothe our pride, but to earn the right to fight alongside them—so we're not always the ones being protected. Isn't that right?" Howard poured himself a glass of whiskey, his tone calm but cutting deep into Tony's heart.
Yes—that was it. Tony's frustration came from that. He'd just never admitted it.
"Fine. You're right, okay? Damn that Cosmos. Why don't I have the talent for it?" Tony muttered bitterly.
"I don't have it either. And I doubt you'd survive the brutal training anyway. Remember when you watched the trainees for the first time? You—"
"Okay, okay! Don't bring that up!" Tony groaned, face burning.
"Fine. But the photos are still in the family album."
"You evil old man—"
"Your mother took them. Her idea to keep them."
Oh. Well, that was different.
Still annoyed, Tony suddenly thought of something and smirked. "Funny, isn't it, Dad? You, of all people, being jealous of anyone. That's not exactly something others feel toward you."
"Heh. Tony, after the war with Poseidon's Marines, I watched the Saints return—covered in wounds, their sacred armors torn and battered, even missiles couldn't scratch them, yet there they were, limping home together. If you hadn't seen it yourself, you wouldn't understand how restless it made me feel." Howard's voice grew heavy with memory.
Tony fell silent. He hadn't been there, only heard about it later. Steve had once told him it was the proudest, most glorious battle of his life—but Tony never knew the details.
"Alright then. What now?" Tony asked, changing the subject to break the solemn mood.
"It seems you haven't read the notes I gave you carefully. Idiot."
"Hey! Watch it—that's your son you're insulting!"
"Hmph. Once you've read them, you'll know why I called you that. Now come upstairs. Your mother's waiting."
"Fine." Tony sighed, shutting down his computer. He could ignore a lot of things—but not Maria.
"Mr. Stark…" Rhodey finally spoke up after the two had finished. His head was spinning; the amount of information he'd just absorbed was staggering.
Howard Stark—connected to Sanctuary? Maybe even part of it? Tony clearly knew and wasn't surprised, meaning he was tied to them too.
Thinking back to Tony's "I am Iron Man" conference and the Saints' sudden appearance—Rhodey realized something shocking: it had all been planned.
No wonder the government hadn't dared touch Tony. They feared Sanctuary's retaliation.
This wasn't just corporate politics anymore—it was national security. He needed answers.
"Questions can wait. Let's go upstairs first," Howard said.
"Alright." Rhodey nodded.
Tony grumbled, "So you came all this way just to lecture me, huh?"
Howard stopped, smirking. "What? Did our little genius forget tomorrow's your birthday?"
Tony froze, embarrassed. "…I can celebrate my birthday whenever I want."
With that, he brushed past them, hurrying upstairs.
Howard and Rhodey looked at each other, smiled, and shook their heads.
…
While Tony was enjoying his family reunion, the man he'd personally sent to prison—Ivan Vanko—was being quietly broken out.
At Hammer Industries, Justin Hammer strutted around like a peacock in full display, trying to charm Ivan into working for him.
"So, what do you want them for?" Ivan asked, pointing at the half-finished machines.
"I want them to get me a 25-year contract with the Defense Department. I want Iron Man to look obsolete. I'm taking these to the Stark Expo, where Tony will lose everything in front of the world."
"Heh. Good. I'd like that too," Ivan grinned.
"I like you already!" Hammer laughed, convinced he'd found his ace.
He thought Ivan would help him crush Tony and make Hammer Industries the new ruler of the tech world.
But he didn't realize—he was just a pawn in Ivan Vanko's game of revenge.