…
The rooftop open-air bar of the hotel had been reserved exclusively for Obadiah Stane and his guests.
By the time Leon and Tony arrived, Obadiah had clearly been waiting for a while. The food had gone cold—but thoughtfully so. Most of the dishes were chilled appetizers and desserts the brothers both liked.
Candlelight flickered in the night breeze, illuminating Obadiah's bald head and that ever-present half-smile.
"Tony. Leon. My boys," he greeted warmly. "You've kept an old man waiting."
Leon chuckled. "What can I say? We've got stamina."
Tony grabbed an apple from a decorative platter and took a bite. "You should've invited a few models to keep you company, Obie."
"Oh please," Obadiah laughed, embracing Leon before patting Tony's shoulder. "At my age? I'd like to live a few more years."
"Fair point," Leon said lightly. "If we're lucky enough to live."
"Sit, sit," Obadiah urged. "Thank God you're both back. After Howard and Maria passed… you two are all I have left."
"Yeah," Tony replied casually. "Thank God."
"Where's Pepper?" Obadiah asked.
"Busy," Tony answered. "You know her."
"No matter. What matters is you're here."
They sat around the white circular table like a family reunion under candlelight.
Leon picked up a forkful of cold steak and took a bite.
He chewed twice—
And paused.
Obadiah noticed instantly.
"Something wrong? Not to your taste?"
Leon swallowed.
"No. It's delicious."
He smiled faintly.
"Strong aftertaste."
Then—
He began devouring everything on the table.
Rapidly. Methodically.
Even Tony's untouched portion vanished.
Tony blinked.
Obadiah stared.
Leon let out a satisfied burp—
Then suddenly clutched his throat.
Foam gathered at his lips.
His eyes rolled back.
He collapsed face-first onto the table.
Silence.
"Leon? Leon!"
Tony shot up—only to feel something wrong.
"Obie… the food—has—"
A faint hum filled the air.
Obadiah held a small handheld device—an ultrasonic paralysis emitter, tuned to a specific frequency.
Tony's muscles locked instantly. Veins bulged at his neck as his body froze mid-motion.
"Such a greedy boy," Obadiah sighed.
"You could've gone peacefully too, Tony."
He nudged Leon's body aside—only to find it absurdly heavy, like pushing solid steel.
Frowning, he gave up and sat across from Tony instead.
From his ear, he removed a discreet sound-dampening earpiece.
"Remember this?" he said calmly, lifting the device. "Your portable sonic weapon prototype. The government rejected it. Too indiscriminate."
"But quite effective."
He leaned back.
"You and your brother should never have come back."
"Dead in Afghanistan would've been simpler. Cleaner."
"The media downstairs will never suspect a thing. Who would imagine the Stark brothers—freshly returned heroes—would be assassinated tonight?"
"And I, Obadiah Stane… will assume full control of Stark Industries."
His voice sharpened.
"I built that company with your father. I gave it my life."
"And in the end? I get less than that useless womanizing brat!"
Enraged, he slammed his fist down onto Leon's head.
CLANG.
A sharp crack echoed.
Obadiah recoiled, clutching his broken hand.
"What the hell—?! Is his skull made of metal?!"
He forced a glove onto his injured hand and drew a pistol.
"I didn't want it this way," he hissed.
"But you two make things impossible."
He aimed at Tony's head—
And then—
Leon rose.
The table flipped aside.
"Impossible?" Leon said calmly.
"Then don't do it."
BANG.
The shot fired.
Leon caught the bullet midair—
And crushed it between his fingers.
Obadiah's face drained of color.
"How are you—"
"Not dead?" Leon finished for him.
"Take a guess."
"Go to hell!"
Obadiah emptied the magazine in panic.
Eight rounds.
All struck Leon.
His clothes tore.
His skin didn't.
Leon stepped forward and casually picked up the discarded pistol.
Under Obadiah's horrified stare, he twisted the steel frame like clay—compressing it into a flattened disc.
"Stane," Leon said evenly, dropping the crushed metal.
"You know nothing about power."
The disc hit the ground with a dull clang.
So did Obadiah's last shred of hope.
Understanding dawned too late.
Leon's survival.
Tony's escape.
He had never been in control.
"Howard…" Obadiah muttered bitterly. "Was this your plan all along?"
Leon blinked.
What was he talking about?
If only Obadiah knew this "steel body" had nothing to do with Howard Stark.
Leon stepped closer.
"Any last words?"
Obadiah didn't answer.
He scrambled backward desperately—
Until there was nowhere left to go.
Behind him—
Hundreds of meters of open air.
The city lights glittered below.
At that moment, Tony finally staggered upright as the paralysis wore off.
Leon supported him as Tony stared at the man who had once been family.
"Why?" Tony asked quietly.
Obadiah laughed hollowly.
"Why? There is no why."
"You would've destroyed yourself eventually, Tony."
"I'll be waiting for you in hell."
"Spare me," Leon snapped.
"If you're jumping, jump."
Before Tony could respond—
Leon lifted his palm.
Golden light flared.
A concussive blast struck Obadiah squarely in the chest.
He was launched backward into the night sky.
Thirteen seconds later—
A distant, sickening impact echoed from below.
Silence returned.
Tony stared at Leon.
"…You couldn't let him finish? I still had questions."
Leon shrugged.
"Oops."
Minutes later, Pepper rushed in with printed evidence—proof of Obadiah's dealings with the Ten Rings and hired assassins.
She stopped when she saw the empty edge of the rooftop.
"…Where is he?"
Leon brushed imaginary dust from his sleeves.
"Already handled."
Sometimes—
Plans simply can't keep up with reality.
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