175. Fireproof Plans. (Patreon)

Tony POV:

I was in love.

Not the messy, complicated, Pepper-kind of love. This was cleaner. Sharper. Mechanical. The kind that hummed when you clenched your fist and made physics file a formal complaint.

“J.A.R.V.I.S,” I said, slowly rotating my arm as panels shifted and adjusted with surgical precision, “run the diagnostics again. I want to hear it one more time.”

“As you wish, sir. Iron Man Armor Model 72 status report follows.”

I hovered a meter above the Malibu lab floor, inertial dampeners whispering instead of roaring. No vibration. No micro-lag. Just control.

“Electro-conductivity: One hundred percent. The alloy plating is made out of Mysterium, Uru and Vibranium-S. The alloy has demonstrated resilience sufficient to absorb direct impacts from Wakandan Dora Milaje sonic spears with no deformation.”

I blinked. “Say that again but slower and maybe with candles.”

“Unibeam output has been refined by twenty-five percent, resulting in significantly enhanced penetration capability.”

I fired a test beam into the reinforced target wall. The beam didn’t explode outward like my older model arc reactors. It drilled. Clean. Surgical. The wall didn’t so much shatter as give up.

“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s… that’s intimate.”

“Shoulder-mounted missile payload exceeds previous generations by thirty-eight percent. Additional pop-up blasters have been installed in the palms and shoulders. Cryogenic cannons are mounted in both forearms and shoulder housings.”

Panels slid open, cannons barrells rising into existence like they’d always belonged there.

“Inertial dampeners and micro-gravity control units permit sustained acceleration approaching Mach thirty-four. Atmospheric exit and reentry are fully supported, courtesy of integrated energy shielding designed by Mr. Parker.”

I laughed, sharp and incredulous. “He put a seatbelt on reentry.”

“Repulsor output and servo motor strength exceed all prior benchmarks. Finally...."

Here it came.

“The miniature arc reactor is powered by three Baddasium cores. Current energy efficiency is without parallel even among your arc reactor designs.”

I landed softly, armor folding back just enough for me to rub my face with both hands.

“…Peter,” I muttered. “You lunatic.”

Right on cue.

“Incoming video call. Mr. Parker.”

The hologram snapped to life. Peter appeared first, calm as ever. Gwen stood beside him in civilian clothes, arms crossed. Then Pepper. She was safe, thank God but clearly tense.

I didn’t waste time.

“Okay,” I said, pointing at my chest as the armor sealed again, “First of all, this suit? Mine. I’m not giving it back. Second, why did you move Pepper like she’s in witness protection? And third, why do I suddenly feel like the world’s about to catch on fire?”

Peter didn’t smile.

“A.I.M." He said simply.

I raised my brow, indicating that I don't understand.

He sent the files.

The files bloomed across my Holo screen. personnel lists, black-site labs, financial pipelines. Extremis research notes. Bombing projections.

“Killian Aldrich.” I said. “Son of a...”

“Your drunk mistake,” Peter replied evenly. “After Maya Hansen. The Extremis formula was never finished. Thirty percent survival rate. The rest...” He paused. “They explode.”

I exhaled through my teeth. “Yeah. That tracks. That’s… painfully on brand for past-me.”

Pepper’s voice cut in, tight. “Tony, Aldrich approached me too. I turned them down. Too much weaponization potential.”

Peter nodded. “Killian came to me next. Wanted investment. Wanted my help to complete the formula. I refused because 10 million for a suicide bomber is just stupid.”

“And he didn’t take rejection well. Internally at least.” Gwen said dryly.

Peter flicked to another file. “There is high probability that vice President Rodriguez has been compromised. Refused Parker Pharmaceuticals and Wakandan medical aid for his daughter out of spite. My disclosures about his associates hurt his… interests.”

I clenched my fists. “So Killian wants leverage.”

“More than that,” Peter said. “President Ellis banned certain biogenetic research. It’s slowed Killian’s progress. I believe he intends to remove Ellis.”

I looked up sharply. “Assassination.”

“Likely framed as terrorism,” Peter replied. “He supplies the terror. Then sells the war.”

I barked a humorless laugh. “Wow. That’s… efficient. Evil but efficient.”

Gwen frowned. “Doesn’t that ban affect Parker Pharmaceuticals too?”

Peter shrugged. “I have research centers worldwide. Including Wakanda. Plus, I know how to keep secrets.”

Of course he did.

“So what’s the play?” I asked. “Because I’m guessing it’s not ‘wait and see.’ ”

“Step one,” Peter said, voice firm, “secure our loved ones. That’s already in motion. Spartan IV units are now equipped with MJOLNIR Mk. VIII ‘Aestus’ pattern armor. Squad captains and above have YGGDRADSIL Mk. I heavy assault suits.”

My eyebrows climbed. “You gave them that?”

“Yes,” Peter said calmly. “I’ve also activated the Castraferrum Drones. Upgraded Hammer Drones.”

I snorted. “Justin Hammer is somewhere crying, and he doesn’t know why.”

We were just starting to map next steps when...

“Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S cut in, voice shifting to emergency protocol, “incoming priority call from Los Angeles General Hospital.”

My stomach dropped.

The screen changed.

“Mr. Stark,” a doctor said grimly, “there’s been an explosion at the TCL Chinese Theatre. Your associate Happy Hogan was critically injured.”

The room went silent.

Pepper gasped. Gwen’s hand flew to her mouth.

I couldn’t breathe.

Then every screen hijacked itself.

A man appeared. Calm. Smiling. Ancient menace in a modern broadcast.

“I am the Mandarin,” he said smoothly. “This is my doing.”

I stared at the screen, Model 72 humming softly.

“…Okay,” I whispered, voice shaking but steadying fast. “That’s it. No more improvising. No more ghosts.”

I looked straight at Peter’s image.

“Tell me where to aim.”