Both Tony and Happy Hogan witnessed the impossible. Happy frantically rubbed his eyes, convinced the desert sun and stress had finally broken his mind.
Tony, however, was already processing the data. The sudden, silent acceleration, the lack of conventional propulsion, the broken baton—it all confirmed the profound strangeness of the child's powers. How did he even do that?
A single, powerful idea solidified in Tony's mind: the need to become stronger, to understand this new landscape of power.
Leo, having vanished from the highway, found a secluded construction site where he could safely return to earth without exposing his abilities. He took a normal taxi home.
Aunt Jenny was home from work, bustling in the kitchen. Uncle George sat on the sofa, a newspaper open, with the evening news droning on the television.
"...The evening news reports that Tony Stark's return, expected to be a day of national celebration, has been overshadowed by a shock announcement: 'Stark Industries will immediately close its weapons research and production department,' a decision that has stunned the financial world..."
"Jenny, did you hear that? Tony Stark is actually shutting down the weapons division. What kind of madness is that?" George lowered the newspaper.
"Stark has completely lost it!" Aunt Jenny called out, flour dusting her apron. "A perfectly successful weapons company abandoning its primary business. Thank goodness we didn't buy their stock—we'd be ruined!"
Leo, setting his backpack down, offered a knowing counterpoint. "No, Aunt Jenny, Uncle George, now is actually the perfect time to buy. Once Stark Industries unveils its new economic core, the price is guaranteed to skyrocket."
George chuckled patronizingly. "Leo, you don't understand the market. Unless Stark reopens the weapons division, that stock is going to plummet. Only a fool would buy in now!"
Leo smiled helplessly. He still had $50,000 left over from his Las Vegas trip. It wasn't a huge amount, but he knew exactly what to do with it.
He wasn't driven by greed; enough money to cover his needs was sufficient. He had effortless ways to generate wealth if necessary. His real desire was high-grade, difficult-to-obtain metals. Now that he had connected with Stark, the problem of stable resource acquisition was likely solved.
Leo checked his internal status window:
Control Points: 77
Strength: 15
Defense: 19
Speed: 9
Spirit:19
Skills: D-Rank Metal Control, D-Rank Body
Enhancement : Golden Eyes (100%), Copper Skin (100%), Steel Bars (35%), Iron Bones (0%)
Derivative Skill: Golden Eyes of Truth (Unaffected by any abilities, sees through all illusions, enhances visual observation, and can metallize objects), Immovable Golden Body (Greatly enhances defensive power; feet firmly planted on the ground; possesses unlimited stamina; body regeneration speed is increased; cannot be moved by external forces)
As the density of the Steel Bars increased, his raw strength climbed. A simple, small fist strike now carried a force of approximately 250 kilograms, enough to snap a femur.
Frustrating. At the current slow pace of absorption, it would take another two or three years to accumulate over one hundred Control Points, and the strengthening speed would inevitably decrease further.
"Oh, I should have just asked Tony for some high-quality metal right there and then!" Leo smacked his forehead lightly.
"Aunt Jenny, could you please call the school and get me a week off? I need to go to Los Angeles."
"Leo, why on earth do you need to go to California?" George put down his paper again, worried.
"I need to find Tony Stark. I need his help," Leo explained.
"No, absolutely not, Leo!" Aunt Jenny rushed out, flour flying everywhere. "You are almost a middle schooler. Final exams are in two weeks! You are not running off anywhere!"
"Yes, Leo, listen to Jenny. We'll wait until after your exams. Then, for summer vacation, we'll take a trip, okay?" George added, looking at him with expectation.
Seeing their combined worry, Leo sighed, forcing a wry smile. "Alright, alright. We'll go after the exams."
Three days later, Tony Stark completed the manufacture of the new Arc Reactor in his Malibu basement workshop. Using aerospace-grade materials and cutting-edge technology, the new device was superior in every way—safer, more powerful, and beautifully compact.
Yet, problems persisted.
Pepper, upstairs, was watching a financial news channel savagely mocking Stark Industries. She frowned, worried. The stock had already plummeted by 47%.
The phone rang. "Pepper, how big are your hands?" Tony asked without preamble.
"What? Why would you ask me that?"
"Get down here. I need your help!"
Pepper rushed to the basement. She stopped, staring in disbelief at the scene: Tony was lying on a makeshift medical chair, his chest bare, with a strange, glowing, crude object—the first reactor—embedded in his sternum.
"Show me your hands," Tony commanded.
Pepper instinctively raised her hands. Tony breathed a massive sigh of relief. "Perfect. They are slender and petite."
He held up the brand-new, gleaming reactor core. "I need you to do me a small favour."
"My God, Tony! Is that... is that what is keeping you alive?" Pepper stood next to him, mesmerized by the glowing device in his body.
"Yes. But this one," he pointed at the old one, "is antique. I'm upgrading." He then pointed to the new core in his hand. "This will be my future."
"I need to swap them out, but the old one is jammed."
"Jammed? What does that mean?"
"It's nothing. Just a small complication." Tony gently tugged on the old reactor, revealing the connection to a grounding wire. "See this little exposed wire underneath?"
Pepper's right hand trembled as she took the old, crude device Tony pulled free. "What... what do I do with this?"
"Put it aside. It's useless now."
"Oh my God!" Pepper gasped, looking at the device that had been inside her boss.
"I need you to reach in and remove that wire from the port."
"Is this safe?" That was Pepper's immediate, frantic concern.
Tony pursed his lips. "Theoretically, yes. It's like minor surgery, Pep. As long as you don't touch the base socket, I won't get a serious shock." He was still highly uncomfortable, remembering the jolt from his own self-experiment.
"Minor surgery?" Pepper whispered, horrified.
Tony looked at her trembling hands. "It's just a little game, Pep. Don't be nervous. Just carefully detach the thread, okay?"
"Okay." Pepper hesitantly extended her index finger.
But the moment her skin touched the cold metal casing of the port, she snatched her hand back like a frightened bird. "No! I don't think I can do this!"
"It's okay, you can," Tony said, turning his head to look deeply into her eyes. "You are the only person who can do this. You are the person I trust the most in this entire world. You will do a great job."
Pepper had never seen Tony Stark like this—vulnerable, weak, and completely reliant on her. Her heart hammered against her ribs, overwhelmed by the responsibility and the sudden, intense intimacy of the moment.