Sub-basement Level 3, Stark Industries secret laboratory.
The air was thick with the smell of motor oil and scorched metal.
Obadiah Stane stood in front of the four-meter-tall Iron Monger prototype, his face as dark as a storm cloud.
Embedded in the armor’s chest was a glowing blue reactor—the crude first-generation Arc Reactor Tony had cobbled together from missile parts in the cave.
Its light flickered unsteadily.
“Power output is only thirty-one percent of the design value.”
The chief engineer wiped away sweat, holding a data pad in his hand.
“And the decay is rapid…
at full load, it can hold out for fifteen minutes at most.”
Obadiah didn’t say a word.
He turned his head to look at the massive screen on the wall.
The news was replaying footage from noon today:
The red-and-gold armor descended from the sky, blasters repelling terrorists, its movements as fluid as a dance.
The reactor on the chest of the Mark III radiated a light that was blindingly stable.
“Something Tony built out of trash in a cave,” Obadiah murmured under his breath, every word squeezed from between his teeth.
“And you replicate it one-to-one, yet can’t even manage that?”
The engineers lowered their heads.
“Mr.
Stane…” The chief engineer steeled himself.
“The cold fusion structure of the Arc Reactor…
is simply a miracle of genius.
The miniaturization in particular is…
We really aren’t Tony Stark.”
“Then install a few more!” Obadiah waved his hand sharply.
“If one isn’t enough, use two!
Three!
Stack the energy!”
“We can’t!” The engineer’s voice rose in panic.
“Paralleling multiple power sources will cause magnetic interference and short circuits…
It could trigger a chain explosion!
To operate safely, the entire power system must be redesigned from scratch, which will take at least half a year.”
“Half a year?” Obadiah sneered.
He stepped over to the screen and pointed at the frozen frame of Iron Man.
“My good nephew is already flying in the sky with a second-generation reactor.
And you’re telling me…
it’ll take half a year?”
Dead silence fell over the lab.
Only the faint hum of the reactor echoed.
Obadiah stared at the crude shell of the Iron Monger, his gaze growing colder by the second.
He recalled the stably glowing ring on Tony’s chest.
He recalled the armor’s nimble combat movements.
He recalled…
how over the past few decades, he had served Howard like a loyal dog, and then served Tony.
“I’ll get a better reactor.” Obadiah turned, his leather shoes clicking coldly against the floor.
“The one in Tony’s chest…
seems quite suitable.”
***
Malibu mansion, underground workshop.
Tony was using a screwdriver to adjust the shoulder joints of the Mark III.
Mechanical arms hovered nearby as real-time data scrolled across the screens.
“Sir, Ms.
Potts is coming down,” JARVIS alerted him.
Footsteps sounded from the stairs.
Pepper walked in carrying a cup of coffee.
Seeing Tony crouched beside the suit, she frowned slightly.
“You called me down just to watch you fix a toy?”
“It’s not a toy.” Tony didn’t turn back.
“JARVIS, play file ‘Irrefutable Proof-01′.”
The primary screen in the workshop lit up.
A grainy yet clear video began to play:
Desert, nightfall.
Ten Rings members used shovels to dig up sand, revealing the wreckage of the Mark I.
The camera shook—it was recorded from a hidden camera inside the wreckage.
The footage fast-forwarded:
The debris was crated, loaded onto a truck, and hauled out of the desert.
It arrived at a port warehouse, where the crate was opened for inspection.
A stout figure walked up to the crate, reaching out a hand to stroke the twisted armor plates.
The lens zoomed in.
Obadiah Stane’s face was unmistakably clear.
The coffee cup in Pepper’s hands nearly hit the floor.
“…Obie?” Her voice trembled.
“He’s buying war trophies from terrorists?
Why?”
“Why?” Tony finally turned around, his face expressionless.
“Because he needs to analyze the Mark I’s design to build armor of his own.
Because…
he’s wanted to kill me from the very beginning.”
Pepper covered her mouth.
“I need more evidence.” Tony walked over to the workbench and picked up a black flash drive.
“Direct proof.
Financial transactions, encrypted communications—every record that can nail him down once and for all.”
He handed the flash drive to Pepper.
“Plug it into the mainframe in Obadiah’s office.
The program inside will automatically scan and copy all encrypted files.”
Pepper took the drive, her fingers shaking slightly.
Taking a deep breath, her eyes turned resolute.
“I’ll go right now.”
“Pepper.” Tony stopped her.
Pepper looked back.
Tony opened his mouth as if to say something, but in the end, he only gave a light shake of his head.
“…Be careful.”
Pepper raised her right hand.
A pink spherical domain expanded instantly, enveloping half the workshop.
Glimmering light flowed through the air, and tools on the workbench floated gently off the surface.
She closed the domain and smiled at Tony.
“I can cut open a safe now without setting off any alarms…
Don’t worry.”
With that, she turned and headed upstairs.
Silence returned to the workshop.
Tony stood alone before the Mark III, sinking into thought.
He remembered his childhood, when Obadiah would hoist him onto his shoulders to watch Stark Industries missile test firings.
He remembered after his parents’ car accident, when Obadiah stared at him with bloodshot eyes and said, “Tony, from now on, I’m your family.”
He remembered thirty years of birthday gifts, Christmas dinners, and nights spent laughing and clapping each other on the shoulder.
“…Why?” Tony asked softly.
No one answered.
“Sir,” JARVIS’s voice suddenly broke the silence.
“Mr.
Obadiah Stane has arrived and is waiting in the living room.
He says…
he brought a gift.”
Tony’s body stiffened.
He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the last trace of warmth in his gaze had vanished.
“I’ll be right up.”
***
Living room.
Obadiah stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out at the ocean view.
He was holding a long gift box in his hands.
Tony walked upstairs, his expression already restored to its usual nonchalance.
“Obie, what wind blew you here today?
Did the company’s stock drop again?”
“Tony!” Obadiah turned, a warm, enthusiastic smile plastered on his face.
“I came to congratulate you!
Today’s noon news was magnificent!”
He opened his arms for a hug.
Tony stepped aside to dodge it, walking over to the bar to pour a glass of whiskey.
“Let’s cut to the chase.
What do you want?
The Mark schematics?”
Obadiah’s smile stiffened for a moment before quickly recovering.
“You kid…
always so direct.”
He placed the long box on the coffee table and opened it carefully.
Inside lay an ornately decorated knight’s broadsword.
The scabbard was encrusted with gems, and the hilt was wrapped in gold wire.
“King Arthur’s sword—a replica, of course.” Obadiah drew the longsword, its blade gleaming coldly under the light.
“It cost me a great deal to get my hands on this.
Just like how, over these past decades, I’ve served your father like a Knight of the Round Table, and then you.”
He gave the sword a light swing, cutting through the air with a faint hiss.
Tony didn’t respond.
He swirled his glass, the ice clinking inside.
“Tony, your armor is the ultimate weapon of war.” Obadiah sheathed the sword and adopted a serious tone.
“The military contacted me this afternoon with an astronomical order!
As long as we can mass-produce it—”
“I’m not making weapons anymore,” Tony interrupted.
Obadiah froze.
“What?”
“I said, I’m not making weapons anymore.” Tony set down his glass and looked him straight in the eye.
“What about the Arc Reactor I gave you?
Is clean energy not profitable enough?”
“That takes time!
R&D, testing, rollout…
It’ll take at least three years to see a return!” Obadiah raised his voice.
“But the demand for war is immediate!
Tony, do you have any idea how much market value vanished when you shut down the weapons division?
Those old fogies on the board are already discussing removing you!”
“Then let them discuss,” Tony said calmly.
“The future of Stark Industries is energy, not bloodshed.”
Obadiah stared at him.
He stared for a long time.
Then, he suddenly laughed.
It was a low laugh, laced with a certain exhaustion and…
disappointment.
“Tony, oh Tony…” He shook his head.
“Your father was just like this back then, his head full of idealism.
And what was the result?
The most profitable thing in Stark Industries was always the arms he looked down upon.”
He walked over to Tony, reaching out a hand to pat his shoulder.
Tony took a step back.
Obadiah’s hand hovered in midair.
He pulled his hand back and let out a sigh.
“Since you refuse to see reason…
don’t blame your uncle for being ruthless.”
Tony frowned.
“Are you threatening me?”
“No,” Obadiah smiled.
“I’m educating you.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he whirled around and drew the sword!
The movement was blindingly fast for a man of his build.
The longsword unsheathed, its icy blade sweeping across in a horizontal slash!
Tony’s pupils contracted…
He could have dodged, but he didn’t.
The blade sliced across his neck.
There was no blood.
Only the sensation of skin, muscle, and bone being cleanly severed.
Tony’s head flew into the air.
Spinning in midair, his vision turned upside down.
His headless body stood in place, stiffening for a few seconds before collapsing to the floor with a thud.
The head hit the ground and rolled to the edge of the carpet.
His eyes were still open.
Obadiah walked over to the body and squatted down.
Taking out a specialized tool, he pried open the chest plate.
The second-generation Arc Reactor was extracted, its deep blue glow illuminating his greedy face.
He walked over to Tony’s head, knelt down, and smiled warmly.
“Goodnight, my prince.”
“Your kingdom…
I’ll take it from here.”
He stood up, carefully packed the reactor into a briefcase, picked it up, and left without looking back.
The living room door clicked shut.
Only the head on the carpet and the headless body remained.
***
Half an hour later.
Pepper unlocked the front door of the mansion with a spare key.
Her expression was excited as she held the flash drive.
“Tony!
I got it!
All of Obadiah’s incriminating evidence!”
Her voice abruptly stopped.
She saw the scene in the living room.
The head.
The body.
Lying apart.
Pepper froze for three seconds.
Then she took a deep breath, surprisingly not screaming.
She walked over, knelt down, and cradled Tony’s head.
“A high-altitude drop again?” She frowned.
“Didn’t I tell you not to court death?”
Tony’s eyes moved, his mouth opening and closing.
Without air from lungs, the Revive-Revive Fruit allowed his soul to directly vibrate his vocal cords: “No…
just a family dispute.”
“Obadiah?” Pepper understood instantly.
Her expression turned solemn as she raised her right hand.
[ROOM]
A pink domain expanded, enveloping the head and body.
The severed tissues aligned, blood vessels and nerves reconnected, and skin healed over.
Three minutes later.
The head was reattached to the neck.
Tony sat up and stretched his neck.
“Your craft has improved, Pepper.”
Pepper didn’t smile.
She plugged the flash drive into a tablet and handed it to Tony.
“See for yourself…
What I found on his computer wasn’t just about today.”
The screen lit up.
JARVIS projected a dense stream of data.
First document: Encrypted emails between Obadiah and the Ten Rings.
Date: Three months ago.
Content: Planning the abduction of Tony Stark, demanding “leave no survivors.”
Second document: Black market arms transaction logs.
Stark Industries missiles, rifles, and drones intentionally leaked to terrorist organizations in Afghanistan and Iraq.
The intermediary accounts for payment eventually routed to Obadiah’s shell company in the Cayman Islands.
Third document: Howard Stark’s car crash investigation report.
Brake system showed “suspicious maintenance records,” and the signature on the work order…
belonged to Obadiah’s distant cousin.
Tony stared at the screen.
He didn’t say a word.
His fingers slowly tightened into fists, his knuckles turning white.
Pepper said softly, “It wasn’t the first time he tried to kill you…
Tony.”
Tony still said nothing.
He stood up, walked to the coffee table, and picked up the “King Arthur’s sword” off the floor—the very sword that had cut off his head.
His fingers stroked the blade.
The chill of the Underworld seeped out.
A layer of deep blue frost instantly enveloped the sword body.
“What are you going to do?” Pepper stood up.
“Call the police?
Or…?”
“I’m going to make a final farewell…” Tony turned around, the last trace of warmth in his eyes entirely gone.
“…to my ‘Knight of the Round Table’.”
He walked toward the garage.
“Tony!” Pepper chased after him.
“Obadiah has your reactor now!
He might have already activated Iron Monger!”
The garage door opened.
The silver-gray Audi R8 engine roared to life.
Tony got into the driver’s seat and tossed the frost-covered broadsword onto the passenger seat.
He turned his head and gave Pepper a look.
“That’s even better.”
Tires shredded the ground, and the sports car shot into the night like an arrow.
Its taillights drew a red streak across the darkness.
Pepper stood at the entrance, watching the car disappear into the night, biting her lip.
She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
“Hello?
Agent Coulson?
This is Pepper Potts…”