Tony had officially gone an entire week without sleeping.
And at the center of his workshop, illuminated like a blasphemous work of art against the concept of humility, stood her.
The Mark III.
Deep red. Polished gold. Clean, aerodynamic lines, built to fly and hit with the same elegance Tony Stark used to raise an eyebrow.
Tony Stark leaned against a table, wearing a crooked smile.
Then, without ceremony, a figure appeared walking toward him.
Nick Fury stepped into view at an unhurried pace, his single eye sweeping over the armor.
"Five days," Fury said. "That's how long it took you."
Only Nick Fury could make an entrance like that.
Tony yawned theatrically.
"Three and a half if you ignore the minor nervous breakdown," he replied. "Four if we count the existential crisis. And a full week if we factor in that I haven't slept properly."
Tony ignored the fact that this man had walked into his mansion as if JARVIS's security systems were decorative.
At this point, with a supposed god about to be banished to Earth, nothing surprised him anymore.
His mind immediately connected Fury to that government agency that had appeared in the video.
The one with a protector-of-Earth complex.
Fury stopped in front of the Mark III.
"Pretty," he admitted. "Too pretty to be just an 'experiment.'"
Tony's smile widened.
"I knew it. You love it."
"No," Fury corrected. "It worries us."
Tony raised a hand and the armor powered up.
Lights ignited. Systems responded.
The miniaturized Arc Reactor flared brightly.
"Stabilized flight. Modular weaponry. Adaptive defensive systems," Tony listed. "All powered by something that shouldn't exist… but does, thanks to my genius."
He turned toward Fury.
"And before you ask: yes, I saw the video. And no, I didn't copy it. I got ahead of it."
Fury studied him in silence for a few seconds.
"That's exactly what concerns us," he said at last. "You got ahead too fast."
Tony shrugged.
"I'm brilliant. It happens."
Fury exhaled.
Then he pulled a folder from inside his coat and set it on a table.
"Then I'll stop wasting time," he said. "I'm Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. Our agency does exist."
Tony tilted his head.
"The ghost agency? Yeah, I've seen it pop up in videos lately."
"It's not a ghost," Fury replied. "It's old."
He opened the folder. Black-and-white photographs. Old documents. Names.
Tony leaned in.
And froze.
"That…" he murmured. "That's my father."
Howard Stark.
"Your father was one of the founders," Fury said. "Scientist. Visionary. Idealist."
Tony swallowed.
"He never mentioned this."
"Because it wasn't something you talked about," Fury replied.
He closed that folder and opened another.
"Avenger Initiative."
Tony let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"Avenger," he repeated. "Sounds pretentious."
"Sounds necessary," Fury corrected. "The world is changing, Stark. And not because of your armor."
He glanced at the Mark III.
"But you… you can be part of how we respond."
Tony walked slowly around the armor, his hand hovering over the metal without touching it.
"So what do you want from me?" he asked. "To sign a contract? Wear patriotic spandex?"
"I want you ready," Fury replied. "Because what's coming can't be solved with missiles."
Tony looked up.
"Gods?"
Fury nodded.
"Among other things."
Silence.
The Arc Reactor hummed softly.
Tony took a deep breath.
Thinking about how wild this past week had been.
He'd gone from fooling around with magazine models to staring at his own future, one he didn't fully understand yet.
After a brief pause, he looked straight at Nick Fury's remaining eye.
Then at the Mark III… still without answering.
"JARVIS," Tony said, without looking away from the armor, "give me the report you've been avoiding."
There was a microscopic pause.
JARVIS spoke in his flawless tone.
"Sir, the reactor core presents a medium-term complication."
Tony sighed.
"There it is. I knew you couldn't keep a secret longer than thirty seconds."
"The palladium, sir," JARVIS continued, "is causing progressive toxicity. At this rate, prolonged exposure will be.… problematic."
Tony frowned. He'd always known this. Still, his pride had pushed him to build the armor anyway, deliberately ignoring the issue.
He let out a dry laugh and looked at Fury.
"Can you believe it? I build the future, and the fuel kills me."
From behind him, Nick Fury watched the scene with an expression that was oddly… satisfied.
"There's always a barrier," Fury said. "Even for geniuses."
Tony shot him a sideways glance.
"Don't tell me SHIELD has a miracle cure sitting in a drawer."
Fury smiled sharply.
"As a matter of fact, we do."
Tony raised an eyebrow.
Fury didn't give him time to respond.
"When you decide who you really want to be," Fury said, "you can contact me. I'll have your father's legacy brought to you."
Tony snorted.
"Great. I knew Howard couldn't rest in peace without giving me one last lesson."
He crossed his arms.
Then turned back to the armor.
"Alright," he said. "Let's talk about your project. I'm in."
Fury blinked once. Just once.
"That easy?"
Tony raised a finger.
"With conditions, obviously."
"No patrol duty," Tony listed. "No blind obedience. I step in only when the threat is real."
Fury tilted his head.
"Define 'real.'"
Tony turned, serious now.
"Humans with god complexes," he said. "People who think they get to decide for everyone. Power or ideas big enough to wreck the country, or worst case.… the planet."
Fury nodded slowly.
"Conditions accepted. I'll have your father's materials delivered."
Tony looked at him.
"And in the meantime," Tony added, "don't bother me."
Fury turned toward the elevator.
"Enjoy the ride, Stark," he said.
The elevator doors closed.
Tony was left alone with the Mark III and its constant hum.
"You know, JARVIS," he said, "sometimes I hate being right."
"Statistically, sir," the AI replied, "that has not prevented you from continuing to be right."
Tony smiled with dry irony.