Leo quickly ascended into the night, but his departure was neither flashy nor dramatic. He simply swayed his shoulder slightly, and the magnificent, diamond-patterned Golden Wings retracted and vanished, leaving behind only the faintest golden afterglow. He was a master of efficiency now, his power perfectly controlled. He flew low and fast, looping around to ensure Pepper was truly secure before heading back to the scene.
Mark III landed with a heavy thud in front of Pepper, who was being discreetly cornered by Agent Coulson and his remaining team. The mask hissed open, revealing a grimy, exhausted, but intensely relieved Tony Stark.
Tony looked at Pepper, and despite the sheer, unfiltered terror he had just experienced, he managed a weak, almost hysterical laugh.
"Tony! Oh, my God, Tony, are you truly alright?" Pepper rushed forward, her eyes wide with panic as she took in the horrific sight of the Mark III's numerous scratches, impact dents, and the clusters of black scorch marks from the Gatling gun rounds.
"Yes, Pepper. Just a really, really bad case of corporate restructuring, but I'm fine. I'm whole!" Tony replied, trying to sound cavalier, but his voice was rough. He looked at Pepper, his eyes dark with the residual fear of facing a man who had wanted him dead for decades.
Pepper stepped closer, looking up at Tony in his armor. She could clearly see the fresh black bloodstains on the side of Tony's head, remnants of the sonic paralysis attack that had not been completely wiped clean. The image of the armor-clad giant crushing cars and slamming buses was still too fresh.
She was so overwhelmed with relief and emotion that she desperately wanted to throw her arms around him, but the massive, intimidating armor prevented it. She held back, tears finally welling up and spilling down her cheeks as she simply stared at him, unable to speak.
Tony desperately wanted to pull her close, but the current Mark III design was optimized for combat, not comfort. It only allowed him to remove the hands and head independently; the other components were sealed and required the precise alignment of the automated robotic arms back at the lab. He was trapped in the shell of his victory.
Agent Coulson, ever the professional, stepped forward, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos. "Mr. Stark, we have a significant incident on our hands. We have a lot of trouble to deal with tonight, and for the sake of national security, we hope you can cooperate fully."
Tony looked at Coulson, recognizing him as the man who had protected Pepper and brought the agents to the scene—even if they were laughably ineffective against the Monger. He realized Coulson was an ally, albeit a very strange one, so he didn't treat him with his usual cold arrogance.
"Pepper, I think I should take responsibility for all this madness. Get the ball rolling on establishing the Stark Foundation. Everything that was damaged or everyone who was harmed tonight is on me," Tony announced, his voice regaining its authority.
Coulson continued, his smile tight but reassuring. "Mr. Stark, we will have personnel specifically assigned to handle the cleanup and the official narrative. There will definitely be a press conference tomorrow morning, and we hope Mr. Stark will deliver his speech exactly according to the script we provide."
Pepper, still reeling, instinctively stepped forward, her organizational skills taking over. "Okay, thank you. I trust you. If needed, I think Stark Industries would be happy to dedicate resources to the Foundation."
Coulson nodded, his smile widening slightly, and walked aside to begin directing his team, reporting the situation to his superiors, and urgently requesting that specialized government cleanup crews be dispatched to restore order as quickly as possible.
Leo returned, landing quietly beside the conversation. He had collected the necessary metadata from the wreckage and was ready to check on Tony.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn't expect so much time to have passed while I was... calibrating my new abilities. I should have been faster."
Tony, trying to push past the sudden wave of fatigue, shook his head. "Leo, you already warned me. I was the fool who didn't trust you, and I didn't truly believe Obadiah wanted to kill me until he was literally crushing me. It was a damn close call, kid. You saved me from a missile, too. Don't apologize."
Tony's mind flashed back to the intense moments of despair he had experienced under the crushing weight of the Monger. It was a profound relief that he had managed to get through it smoothly, almost miraculously.
"So, what's next for the great Iron Man?" Leo asked, his tone shifting back to the casual banter he often used with Tony.
Mark III closed his mask. "Next? I need a shower and twelve hours of sleep. But first, I have a reputation to uphold. Jarvis, fire up the thrusters. I'll go clear some of the heavier wreckage blocking the main access road for the emergency services."
Leo looked at Pepper, whose face was still streaked with tears and dirt. "Sister Pepper, I'm guessing you haven't had dinner since breakfast? I could probably manage to whip up something that hasn't been crushed by a mechanical foot."
An hour later, back at Tony's penthouse workshop—the aftermath already a frenzy of clean-up crew activity—Tony flew back in his dented armor. Pepper and Leo stood in front of the massive, glowing new Arc Reactor core, now secured.
"Mr. Stark, what's the situation outside?" Leo asked, noticing the way Tony's posture seemed to be subtly failing, even in the armor.
"It's mostly handled. Everything's being hauled away and replaced. Managed to clear the heavy obstructions. But... many people were injured. Apparently, one poor motorcyclist was seriously injured trying to swerve around us and had to be airlifted to the hospital for treatment." The incident soured Tony's relief.
Tony didn't wait. He immediately slapped the release catch on the Mark III helmet. "Leo, you're the master of metal destruction and reassembly. Help me take off the Mark III. I don't want to wait for the platform to disassemble it."
Leo didn't hesitate. He reached out and touched the Mark III. With a silent, subtle application of his Metal Control, he activated the suit's internal quick-release mechanisms and then forcibly manipulated the micro-fittings. Within seconds, the armor seemed to peel away from Tony in segmented, controlled pieces, falling harmlessly to the floor. Tony was left standing in his soaked under-suit.
Tony stepped forward, sighing with relief, but after taking only two steps, his legs gave way with a gasp, and he collapsed onto the floor.
Pepper let out a small shriek and rushed to catch Stark, cradling his head. "Tony! What happened to you, Tony?!"
Looking at Tony's vest, already soaked with sweat from the exertion and the emotional overload, and the large, red, angry burn mark in the center of his chest where Obadiah had violently ripped out the previous reactor, Pepper was terrified.
"Mr. Stark needs more than rest; the aftereffects of the sonic paralysis device Obadiah used earlier are still working on his nervous system," Leo said calmly, his golden eyes scanning Tony's vital signs through his skin. "His muscles are fatigued to the point of temporary failure, and his heart rate is erratic. The physical exertion of the fight combined with the lingering acoustic trauma... he needs immediate IV fluids and observation. This is more than just a bruise."
Finally, Pepper—her resolve hardening—took charge. She coordinated with the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel to take Tony to a private, secure hospital for a thorough check-up, refusing to let him tough it out in the lab.
At 10 a.m. the next day, the massive press conference was being broadcast live on every major television network. Dozens of reporters from different media outlets crammed into the conference room at Stark Industries, hoping to find out the truth about the mysterious metallic figure that had fought the monstrous robot.
The stage was dominated by Colonel James Rhodes, who was officially reading S.H.I.E.L.D.'s prepared statement.
"The official statement regarding last night's Stark Industries incident has been delivered to you. Witnesses claim that the accident was caused by an unprecedented prototype robot malfunction, specifically a military salvage unit being tested on-site," Rhodes stated, his face grim. "Fortunately, one of Tony Stark's personal, highly advanced defense robots—a specialized prototype bodyguard unit—was able to intervene and mitigate the damage, saving countless lives..."
Behind the stage, in a secure green room, Leo watched the broadcast for a moment before turning his attention to the final preparations. Pepper was meticulously applying foundation to Tony's face, touching up his makeup to hide the deep exhaustion and dark circles.
Tony sat upright in his chair, looking less like a billionaire and more like a weary politician. He held a copy of today's New York Times, the front page headline screaming: "Who is Iron Man?"
"Iron Man? That's actually a catchy name. I like it, I really do," Tony mused, turning the paper. "But strictly speaking, it's not quite accurate. The alloy is gold-titanium, far superior to iron."
He chuckled dryly. "But no matter what, the name... it kind of fits, doesn't it?" Tony looked at the article about his vigilante alter-ego with a mix of delight and deep anxiety.
Coulson walked over, holding a few small, folded blue slips of paper. "Mr. Stark, we need to finalize the staging. Here is the script you requested we write. Keep it concise."
"Oh, the lie-sheet," Tony quipped, taking the pages with noticeable hesitation. "Okay, let's see the fantasy scenario."
Coulson's voice dropped to a level of professional sternness. "You were on your yacht at the time of the incident, Mr. Stark. We've prepared customs documents saying you were on Avalon Island last night, along with the testimonies of fifty crew members who all saw you there."
Tony flipped through the highly detailed, fabricated manuscript in his hand. "Fifty witnesses? Good Lord. I thought they were just going to say it was the two of us, Pepper and me, having a romantic, secluded evening on that island."
Pepper peeled the final strip of tape off Tony's eye, having finished his touch-up. Tony looked at her, his lips twitching into a familiar, joking smirk.
Coulson, his smile unmoving, looked at the two of them with an unsettling calm. "Just read it word by word, Mr. Stark. This is critical for continuity."
Tony glanced at the script a few times and frowned, his irritation immediately rising. "Hold on. Why isn't there any explanation for Obadiah Stane here? He was the mastermind. The public deserves to know!"
"We've already handled it," Coulson stated dismissively. "He was declared missing last night. The official story will state that Mr. Stane was on an unscheduled business trip, and unfortunately, the accident rate for small, privately chartered passenger planes over the Pacific has always been quite high."
Tony scoffed, running a hand over his carefully styled hair. "But to say that a robot is my bodyguard? I mean, that's a bit weak, even for the government, don't you think?" Tony looked at Coulson with open reluctance, a man used to truth and transparency being asked to recite a blatant, high-stakes lie.
"This isn't the first time I've dealt with something like this, Mr. Stark. You just need to read the statement, and this will be over quickly," Coulson said professionally, glancing at his watch. "You have one minute and thirty seconds to prepare. Your entrance is cued."
"Agent Coulson," Pepper went over and called out to him, her eyes sincere. "I want to express my heartfelt gratitude for everything you and your... organization have done."
"It's just my job, Ms. Potts. We're here to facilitate. Let's keep in touch later, after the dust settles."
Coulson, with his perpetually calm, ever-present smile, truly made it easy for others to trust and cooperate with him, despite the blatant deception. He turned to leave, but didn't forget to glance back at Leo, the inexplicable kid who had been constantly appearing next to the high-value target—a detail S.H.I.E.L.D. would definitely be investigating.
"You call it a national strategy…?" Tony muttered, trying to pin down the agency's identity.
"Just call it S.H.I.E.L.D.," Coulson corrected, stepping out the door.
Pepper smiled, a sense of nervous relief finally washing over her. "Right. Get ready to go on stage, Tony."
"Actually, Iron Man is pretty good, though. A little dramatic, but effective. I didn't even come up with such a good name myself!" Tony walked over and took the suit jacket from Pepper's hand.
"You are not Iron Man. You're Tony Stark, the brilliant inventor. That robot was a bodyguard."
"That's me. I'm the guy."
"You are not the guy. Just read the paper."
"Whatever, whatever." Tony couldn't argue with Pepper, not when she was this determined.
But while buttoning his shirt, the pressure of the lie proved too much. Tony couldn't help but voice his true feelings, leaning closer to Pepper. "You know, if I were Iron Man, my girlfriend who knew my true identity would be intensely conflicted, because she would be worried about me dying all the time, constantly terrified, but at the same time, she would be immensely proud of me."
Turning to face Pepper fully, he said, "But this intense internal struggle will only make her love me more, don't you think? Tell me what you were really thinking about that night! That night we shared a moment." He then subtly changed the subject, hoping to see her reaction.
Which night?
"You know which one."
Pepper, who was adjusting the lapel of his expensive suit, looked up at Tony, a sly, teasing smirk playing on her lips.
"Are you saying that time we danced at the gala, then went to the rooftop balcony, and later you went downstairs to get me some expensive, pretentious drinks, leaving me there alone for twenty minutes, and then Leo came to accompany me back?"
Pepper looked at Tony, her smile widening. "You're talking about that night, right?"
Tony turned around instantly and looked at Leo with utter surprise. Leo, leaning against the wall, simply smiled innocently and gave him two thumbs up—a signal of his own success that night.
Tony coughed awkwardly twice, his perfect composure finally broken, and turned toward the stage doors, preparing to go out and give his rehearsed speech.
Leo and Pepper stood side-by-side in the room, watching the television feed, waiting for his entrance.
"Sister Pepper, I'm going home tomorrow. School starts soon, and Aunt Jenny will probably scold me for missing too many days."
"Leo, tomorrow? Why the rush? Doesn't Tony still need your help with the clean-up?" Pepper asked curiously, already feeling the quiet dread of the young man's absence.
"No, Mr. Stark never needs anyone's help. He just needs someone to be with him, to remind him of the good in the world, not just cold metal and profit margins. And I've achieved my goal here. Mr. Stark has been a great help to me, whether he knows it or not."
Leo clenched his fist, feeling the refined, potent energy and power within it—the direct result of the night's crucible. His time in this house, observing Tony and gaining his breakthrough, was complete.
Suddenly, a different sound came from the television. Tony had reached the podium, but a persistent voice immediately cut him off.
It was Christine Everhart again, the familiar, aggressive female reporter. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, but do you really expect the public to believe that was one of your personal bodyguards, who just happened to be wearing high-tech armor? The footage is clear, the maneuverability was impossible for a programmed machine. In fact, many believe you are the one inside the suit—that you are the mysterious Iron Man."
"I know what you mean," Tony interrupted her, placing his hands on the podium. "There's nothing wrong with questioning official statements. It's healthy skepticism."
"But we can't just speculate or make wild, baseless insinuations that I'm suddenly some kind of costumed superhero."
"I never actually said you were a superhero, Mr. Stark," Christine retorted immediately, sensing she had scored a point.
"They didn't say that part?" Tony was momentarily taken aback, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. "That's... great, I suppose. Otherwise, it would be a bit of a pipe dream for me."
But after saying those words, Tony felt a sudden, profound pang of sadness deep down. It wasn't because of the reporter's dismissal of him as a hero, but because of the truth of his own heart. The lie felt suffocating, and the thought of returning to his self-centered, irresponsible life was suddenly unbearable.
Tony leaned into the microphone, his voice softening, becoming almost absentminded, as he began to speak the truth, not the script.
"Obviously, I'm not cut out to be a hero. I have so many personality flaws, and I've made so many mistakes in my life—most of which you already know about, and many you don't..."
"Read from the script, Tony!" Rhodey hissed under his breath from the side of the stage.
Seeing the conflict raging in Tony's eyes on the television screen, Leo unconsciously took a step forward, his own heart beating a silent rhythm of encouragement.
Tony held up the blue manuscript in his hands, looking at its contents one last time. He read the first few words on the paper: "The truth is..."
Tony stopped. Many images flashed through his mind, not of the script, but of his life.
Ethan's final, dying conclusion: 'Cherish life, don't waste it!'The reporter's voice: "Many people are saying you're profiting from a national crisis."The terrifying vision of his own weapons indiscriminately killing innocent civilians on television.
Tony understood his responsibility; he would maintain global peace in a new capacity, not as a selfish arms dealer, but as something more. He dropped the blue slips of paper to the floor.
He looked directly into the camera, a grin of utter relief and liberation breaking across his face.
"I am Iron Man."
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Merry Christmas to you all. Hope u all are Healthy and Happy 😊