"These last few days have been driving me insane! Do those reporters seriously have nothing better to do? They've been camping outside Stark Tower and my house around the clock. I'm planning to hold a press conference to shut them up—and I want you to come with me."
Tony's voice crackled through the phone.
Lucas's eyes lit up. A press conference? That sounded like the perfect opportunity.
He agreed without hesitation.
After setting the time, Tony hung up, and Lucas returned to Skye's room.
"Was that Tony Stark just now?" Gwen asked curiously.
She'd already heard from Skye about the whole Iron Monger incident—and she'd given Lucas quite an earful for not telling her sooner. If she'd known, she would've come back to help. What, did he think she was too weak to be of any use?
Lucas, of course, couldn't admit that was exactly what he'd thought. So he quickly spun an excuse about not wanting to disrupt her studies.
After all, she was the family's one and only prodigy—couldn't risk that, right?
Gwen gave a cold snort but didn't argue further. Lucas silently thanked every god he could think of for dodging that bullet.
"Oh, right—Tony's holding a press conference tomorrow. He wants me there. You two make sure to watch the livestream, because we're about to strike it rich."
Lucas's grin stretched ear to ear; he was practically dancing around the room.
"Rich? From a press conference? What are you talking about… wait—"
Skye suddenly caught on, her eyes widening.
"That's right!" Lucas slammed a fist into his palm. "Stark Industries' stock is about to skyrocket! We're gonna make a fortune—wahahaha!"
He laughed like a cartoon villain, tongue out and everything—a perfect image of a soon-to-be nouveau riche.
Gwen's face lit up too. On Lucas's suggestion, she'd already told Helen to put all their family savings into Stark stock. Helen had thought she was insane and refused at first.
But after enough pleading (and a little guilt-tripping from Lucas), she reluctantly agreed. They were middle class, debt-free—what was the worst that could happen? If they lost everything, they could just move into Lucas's apartment; he'd already set aside rooms for them.
Now, with the stock about to soar, Helen was on the verge of becoming a millionaire overnight.
Lucas was so hyped he barely slept that night. When he finally stumbled out of the house the next morning, the dark circles under his eyes were so bad that his driver nearly panicked—thinking the young man had been up all night doing something… illicit.
The car pulled up to Stark Tower, where a sea of reporters already packed the entrance—microphones, cameras, flashes, all waiting for access.
Lucas's car went straight into the underground garage, and from there he took the private elevator to the press room.
"How do I look?"
Pepper was fixing Tony's tie, while the man himself flashed that signature smug grin—tape still visible on his cheek from healing cuts.
Lucas stepped in just as Tony turned toward him.
"Hey~ how do I look? Be honest—I look better than you, right?"
Tony slung an arm around Lucas's shoulders, radiating arrogance.
"You look older than me."
Lucas didn't pull punches. And he was right—they were more than ten years apart.
Tony's smile froze. Then he shoved Lucas away with a huff.
"You're such a brat. You know nothing about style! Girls today love my type—mature, charming, sophisticated. That's called charisma. You, kid, are just… prepubescent fluff!"
While they were bickering, Coulson approached, handing Tony a small card.
"This is your prepared statement. Just read what's on it."
Tony skimmed it, brow furrowing. It was the same recycled nonsense: "training exercise," "weapons test," "classified project." The same bland excuses he'd used a dozen times before.
Moments later, the press began pouring in like a flood. The room buzzed with tension and camera shutters.
Tony leaned close to Lucas. "Hey, kid—you sure you don't wanna join me on stage? It's not every day you get to share the spotlight with Tony Stark. You'll be famous!"
Lucas waved him off immediately. "No thanks. I'm good staying invisible. Fame just sounds like a headache."
Tony snorted. "Tch. Waste of an opportunity."
He strutted toward the podium like a peacock, basking in the flashbulbs.
Every camera turned on him. Every journalist leaned forward.
After all, the viral video of Iron Man's battle with Iron Monger had already taken the internet by storm. Everyone wanted answers.
Tony glanced at Coulson's cue card… and then tossed it aside.
"For the record—" he began, pausing just long enough for suspense.
Then he smirked.
"I'm Iron Man."
BOOM!
The room erupted.
Reporters screamed, cameras flashed like fireworks, and the internet went into meltdown. Within minutes, every news outlet was replaying the clip in slow motion: Tony Stark declaring his identity to the world.
At the back of the room, Lucas's system chimed in his head:
> [Ding! Congratulations, Host! Mission Complete: "I Am Iron Man." You have witnessed the birth of Iron Man and the true beginning of the Marvel Universe. Reward granted: Behemoth's Zodiac Meteor!]
Lucas blinked. "Wait, what? That's… it? Just a skill? No summon? You're telling me Behemoth—the Behemoth—doesn't even get to show up?"
> [Ding~ If the Host is dissatisfied, the System can rescind the reward. We don't force compliance.]
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy there, A-System! I was kidding! That was my evil twin talking. I've already exorcised him."
> [Ding~ Skill Description: Zodiac Meteor allows the Host to summon a meteor from orbit. Meteor size scales with the Host's mana output. Cooldown: 24 hours.]
Lucas's irritation vanished instantly.
Control the size of a meteor? One per day? That was beyond overpowered!
With enough mana, he could literally trigger an extinction event. A daily extinction event.
Forget Garuda—this was next-level destruction.
Lucas couldn't help but grin.
The age of Iron Man had begun.
And so had the age of meteors.
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