The workshop's automatic doors slid open with their familiar metallic hiss, revealing Tony Stark stepping inside with the restless energy of someone who had slept too little, thought too much, and still refused to slow down.
The bluish glow of holograms reflected in his eyes, while the soft hum of mechanisms and cooling fans created an almost constant soundtrack—the pulsing heart of the billionaire genius.
"JARVIS, how's the system vulnerability scan coming along?"
The question came before he even removed his sunglasses or set his coffee—meaning the awful green juice—down on the workbench.
[I have identified several points of vulnerability, including the one breached last night, sir.]
[I am currently correcting the flaws. The estimated time for a full repair is at least three days.]
Tony grabbed the glass of chlorophyll and took a sip.
He immediately grimaced.
"This thing tastes like radioactive grass," he muttered, pushing the glass away. He sighed, leaning back against the table and crossing his arms.
"Three days is good enough. I didn't like what happened last night, and I'd rather make sure it doesn't happen again."
As he spoke, his mind drifted back to the previous evening.
The bald intruder who had shown up at his house—waltzing into his systems like some amateur hacker—wasn't an enemy, but an unwelcome guest. Someone who thought it was a brilliant idea to show up in the middle of the night to talk about a "special initiative."
Nick Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., boss of Agent Phil Coulson, and possibly the most mysteriously irritating man on the planet.
Tony huffed at the memory of the conversation.
"Super friends… What a joke," he muttered with bored disdain.
He didn't even bother recalling all the details. He preferred to erase them from his memory.
Shaking his head, he walked toward one of the tool-filled worktables, placed his hands over the holographic keyboard, and spoke with renewed enthusiasm.
"Let's get to work, JARVIS. I had a great idea for a new suit."
[A new suit, sir?]
"That's right. I need something portable—easy to deploy—but with enough combat power for emergency situations."
"I'm calling it the Mark V."
[Mark V armor database created. Please input the design parameters, sir.]
[Bear in mind that with current materials, prioritizing lightness will require sacrificing some firepower.]
Tony was already typing at an impressive speed, gesturing, enlarging three-dimensional models, and redesigning components in midair with his fingers.
The glow of the holographic interfaces projected across his face like a mask of blue light.
"I know that, JARVIS. This suit doesn't need to be a war tank—it just needs to buy me enough time to hit back."
A crooked smile tugged at his lips.
"Next time that cue ball shows up in my house, I want to be able to give him a proper beating."
[Understood, sir.]
[Ah, sir… yesterday you mentioned wanting to speak with Mr. Arthur. What about that?]
Tony paused for a moment, picked up the chlorophyll glass, and finished it in one go, his expression full of regret.
"Forget it, JARVIS. Honestly, I think it's better to leave things as they are—for now."
He clapped his hands, enthusiasm returning.
"Alright, let's work!"
The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of holograms, calculations, and his classic AC/DC album blasting in the background.
Miniature components lay scattered across the table; alloys were tested virtually; and the blueprint for the Mark V began to take shape—a compact, foldable suit ready to deploy within seconds.
---
Two hours later…
[Sir, Miss Potts is here.]
"Send her down, JARVIS."
[Actually, sir… she already has.]
"Tony, you don't need to bother. I knew you'd be down here."
Pepper's calm voice echoed through the workshop before JARVIS could even finish.
She appeared at the top of the stairs, elegant and composed, observing the organized chaos of the lab.
Blue lights danced along the walls, and dozens of 3D armor models rotated in the air like technological sculptures.
"You called this 'a little work'?" she remarked lightly, crossing her arms.
Tony spun his chair around with a grin.
"It's a complete mess, I know. I promise I'll clean it up… someday. What's going on?"
"A small disagreement among the shareholders about the future of Stark Industries," she replied casually, though her tone suggested it was anything but small.
Tony briefly glanced at the experiment containing the new element—the one that had been keeping him awake at night—and took a slow breath.
"Pepper, how about we go out for dinner? We can talk properly at a decent restaurant."
She raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"The great Tony Stark inviting me to dinner? I'm honored."
"Yes, and don't tell me you're going to turn me down."
Pepper looked down at her outfit and laughed softly.
"I'm still in work clothes, Tony. I need to go upstairs and change. Does the room you prepared for me still exist?"
"Of course. And all the clothes there are custom-made."
Tony's smile was light, but there was something unspoken behind it—an old memory, perhaps a feeling he pretended not to notice.
Pepper nodded.
"Alright. Book the restaurant. I'll be right back."
"No problem. I'll be waiting."
As she walked up the stairs, Tony's eyes followed her. For a brief moment, the confident shine in his gaze dimmed.
The silence of the workshop settled around him.
He picked up the testing device on the table and pressed his finger against the energy monitor.
[11%]
Tony stood still for a few seconds, staring at the display.
"JARVIS… I feel like my life is on a countdown."
[Sir, please do not lose hope yet. We still have several pending experiments with new elements. Perhaps we will find an alternative soon.]
"Perhaps…"
But deep down, he knew.
No element on Earth seemed capable of replacing the reactor in his chest.
He was a man trying to outrun the inevitable—and laughing while he fought it.
He straightened up, took a deep breath, and resumed his lighter tone.
"JARVIS, search for Michelin-star restaurants. Nice atmosphere, good view…"
A dramatic pause.
"And book the entire place."
[Understood, sir.]
Tony glanced down at his clothes and murmured with a half-smile:
"Maybe I should change into something more appropriate… something worthy of a date."
The blue glow of the holograms reflected in his eyes for a brief moment—and for the first time in days, Tony seemed genuinely excited about something.
---
(End of Chapter)