On the way back to the hotel after their successful encounter with Tony Stark, Uncle George couldn't shake his concern.
"Leo, seriously, how do you know Tony Stark? He's a world-renowned weapons manufacturer, not exactly a role model," George asked again, a furrow in his brow.
"Uncle George, things will change," Leander replied with a mysterious smile, adjusting his seatbelt. "He's going to become a hero someday."
"Forget it," George scoffed, playfully ruffling Leo's hair. "Just be a good kid and don't pick up bad habits from playboys like him!"
The two of them burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into the shared warmth of their relationship.
After their three-day holiday, the Hayes family settled back into their peaceful, familiar lives. Aunt Jenny, with a beaming smile, sat on the edge of the bed, sifting through dozens of newly printed photos from Las Vegas, selecting the best group shots for framing.
Leander casually checked the group chats on his phone. The online discussion about Kai's sudden disappearance had faded into background noise. The model enthusiast community was clearly moving on, oblivious to the metal statue permanently entombed in Queens.
His primary focus was back on cultivation. He had successfully secured a new, stable, and legal source of steel—a small, local warehouse just a kilometer from home. Though the quality was inferior to Kai's exotic alloys, the stability was a fair trade-off.
Leander frowned at his internal status. The progress on the Steel Bars enhancement was frustratingly slow, creeping up by fractions of a percent each night.
Patience, he told himself. Rushing things will lead to mistakes. Resources will find their way to me soon enough.
He calmly arranged four new metal rods around his chair and closed his eyes. A fine wisp of golden energy flowed from the metal, slowly entering his body, specifically targeting the meridians and internal organs throughout his core, plating them with a microscopic, subtle layer of golden light. He was building his internal foundation, piece by tedious piece.
Meanwhile, far away in Malibu, California, Christine Everhart was waking up. She was naked, alone in a massive bed in a room that was still pitch black.
A very human-like, yet distinctly mechanical voice rang out: "Good morning. It's exactly 7:00 AM. The temperature is 72 degrees Fahrenheit. The weather is cloudy."
The artificial darkness peeled away as the huge, curved floor-to-ceiling windows shifted from opaque to transparent under Jarvis's control, revealing the bright, sunny blue sea beyond.
"Waves are between shoulder and waist height. Perfect for surfing. The big waves will arrive at 10:52 AM."
This was the clifftop mansion of Tony Stark.
Pepper Potts, dressed in a sharp, business suit, efficiently ushered Christine out of the villa, already reviewing the mountain of appointments and crises on her digital schedule before rushing away again.
Three hours later, Pepper received a call at Stark Industries forcing her to deal with a sudden transport problem. She made her way to the basement garage.
Tony Stark was deeply engrossed in repairing his treasured vintage car, a high-energy rock anthem blasting from the speakers.
The intelligent Jarvis registered Pepper's presence on the phone and immediately lowered the music volume.
"Don't turn off my music!" Stark grumbled seriously, his face smeared with grease as he worked on the car's engine.
Pepper hung up the phone, her expression strained. "You should be on the other side of the world right now, Tony."
"And why is that a problem for you?"
"Because we have to bear with the inevitable delays," Pepper sighed, running a hand through her perfect hair.
"Then why are you trying to kick me out of my own home?" Tony looked intently at a piece of disassembled firmware in his hand.
"Your plane should have taken off an hour and a half ago, Tony," Pepper said, watching him fiddle with the antique parts.
"That's interesting. It's my plane. It should have waited for me," he replied, successfully installing the part and wiping his hands on a rag before standing up. "If private jets don't wait for their owners, what is the point of owning them?"
His cynical logic left Pepper speechless, as usual.
"There are still a few essential things I need you to finalize before the trip," Pepper continued, holding out a file of documents.
Tony, with minimal attention, agreed to buy an outrageously expensive piece of modern art and signed a document without reading it.
Then, with an almost comical realization, he looked at her. "Wait. Is today your birthday, Pep?"
"Yes."
"And I didn't know that today?"
"Hm, it's the same day as last year, isn't that strange?" Pepper smirked, clearly enjoying his awkwardness.
"Buy yourself a gift from me," Stark said, his smile genuine.
"I already did," she admitted.
"How's the gift?" he asked, gazing intently at his assistant.
"Oh, great. Very tasteful. Thank you, Mr. Stark," Potts replied, a genuine grin on her face.
"You're welcome, Miss Potts." Stark held her gaze for a long moment.
"Oh, right," Pepper said, a slightly embarrassed expression crossing her face as she reached into her suit pocket. "I found this in the car. Take a look." She pulled out the small, dense metal object—the model Leander had given him—and handed it over.
"Oh, perfect! I was wondering where this little guy went," Stark said, taking it. "Pepper, what do you think this is supposed to be?"
Pepper studied the frustum-shaped object. It was wide at the top, slightly conical, and the bottom edge had several miniature, intricately coiled decorations that looked vaguely like electrical wires or coils. "Where did you get this, Tony?"
"A kid. An Asian kid, masked, gave it to me last night. I don't know why, but it feels... familiar. Like an idea I had in the shower ten years ago that I totally forgot to write down!" Tony twirled the small, heavy model in his fingers.
"Anyway, it's an excellent piece of metalwork, isn't it?" Pepper commented.
"Yeah, you're right. You keep it," Stark said, shoving the small metal block back into her hand. He grabbed her coffee cup, took a sip, and walked toward the garage exit.
Pepper held the model for a moment, admiring the baffling perfection of the miniature piece. Then, watching Tony and Happy drive away, she placed the block on her desk. After a moment of thought, she flipped it upside down, resting the smaller face on the table and leaving the wide face, with the electromagnetic coil details, facing upward.
"This feels more reasonable," she concluded.
And just like that, Pepper Potts placed a small model of the future Arc Reactor core on her desk, the gift of a cryptic, tiny boy.
The following evening, the peaceful veneer of Pepper Potts's life shattered. She was ripped from sleep by a frantic phone call from the military.
"What! KIDNAPPING?!"
Panic clawed at her, but she couldn't leave Stark Industries. She was the one who kept the gears turning. Tony could disappear, but she couldn't.
She gripped the metal mannequin on her bedside table—the last thing Tony had physically passed to her—so tightly that the veins on her slender hands bulged.
Colonel James Rhodes, Tony's best friend and military liaison, also received the grim news. Without hesitation, he and his unit immediately scrambled a helicopter, flying toward the remote, hostile Afghanistan battlefield where the Jericho missile demonstration was supposed to take place, hoping to find any trace of the attackers or Tony himself.
Two days later, Tony Stark's eyes fluttered open. The lingering effects of the heavy anesthesia left his limbs stiff and unresponsive.
He struggled instinctively, ripping the oxygen tube from his nose and throat. His animal survival instincts took over; he tried to reach for a nearby cup of water, but two wires restrained him, tethering him to his chest.
"If I were you, I wouldn't waste that energy."
Ethan—a man shaving his chin in front of a salvaged mirror—spoke quietly.
Stark tore away the thick gauze on his chest, revealing a crude, simple metal device roughly embedded deep into his body.
In that horrifying moment, as he stared at the damp, dark, and utterly shabby cave ceiling, despair, cold and complete, flooded Tony Stark's heart.