Malibu mansion, underground garage.
The lights automatically flickered on, illuminating a space packed with luxury sports cars.
However, the most eye-catching thing tonight wasn’t any supercar, but the armored suit standing tall in the center.
Silver-gray paint, a sleek aerodynamic design, and joints gleaming with a subtle, icy-blue glow.
The Mark II.
Pepper Potts stood at the garage entrance, the folder in her hand dropping to the floor with a clatter.
“Tony…” Her voice trembled.
“What is this?”
Tony Stark turned around from behind the workbench, wearing his trademark “compliment me” grin.
“Pepper, my dear CEO, this is your boss’s little achievement over the last three weeks.”
He walked over to the suit and patted its cold metallic shell.
“The Mark II.
Lighter, faster, and it flies.”
“You locked yourself in the lab for three weeks…
just to build this?”
“More than that.”
Tony walked to the fridge and pulled out a cheeseburger.
“I also upgraded the Arc Reactor, optimized the weapon systems, and incidentally…”
He held the cheeseburger in his right palm, from which a pale-blue chill emanated.
*Crack, crackle—*
A layer of frost instantly coated the burger’s surface.
Tony bit down with a satisfying, crunchy snap.
“Developed a few new features.
Now I can enjoy my favorite cheeseburgers frozen crunchy again.”
Pepper pressed a hand to her forehead.
“Tony, we need to talk about the company’s—”
“Hold that thought.”
Tony interrupted her, picking up a palm-sized circular device from the workbench.
The new Arc Reactor.
Smaller than before, but the glow at its center was even brighter—an icy blue with a distinctly frigid texture.
He walked over to Pepper and lifted the hem of his shirt.
At his chest, beneath gray, lifeless skin, his stationary heart was faintly visible.
“Help me swap it in.” Tony handed the new reactor to her.
Pepper didn’t take it, her eyes fixed on his chest.
“Palladium is radioactive, Tony.
Long-term exposure will—”
“Will what?” Tony raised an eyebrow.
“Kill me a second time?”
He lowered his shirt, his tone so casual it was frightening.
“Pepper, my heart stopped beating.
My body temperature matches the ambient air.
Eating normal food tastes like chewing wax.
What do you think radiation is going to do to me?”
Pepper’s eyes instantly welled with tears.
She opened her mouth, her voice choked.
“I’ll definitely cure you.
Once I master the power of the Op-Op Fruit, I’ll…”
Before she could finish, Tony leaned in and kissed her lips.
An icy touch transferred instantly, like pressing against a block of ice.
Pepper’s body went rigid, but she didn’t push him away.
A few seconds later, Tony pulled back, a smirk curling his lips.
“How was that?”
Pepper wiped her mouth and glared at him.
“Cold as a corpse.”
“That’s what makes it exciting, isn’t it?” Tony grinned mischievously.
“Exciting my foot!”
Pepper snatched the reactor from his hand and took a deep breath.
She raised her right hand and snapped her fingers.
*Hum—!*
A pink spherical domain expanded instantly to a two-meter diameter, enveloping them both.
The air inside the domain distorted slightly, and all surface objects shimmered with a soft aura.
“ROOM.”
With a thought, a hollow cavity opened up in Tony’s chest.
The new reactor floated up and slotted precisely into the cavity.
No blood, no pain—only the faint click of skin and metal seamlessly connecting.
Three seconds later, the light stabilized.
The pink domain dissolved.
Tony looked down at his chest.
The new reactor sat nestled right in the center, radiating a deep blue light.
“Cool!” He blew a whistle.
“Pepper, you’re amazing!
That’s exactly the effect I wanted!”
Pepper ignored his banter, staring at the reactor.
“What’s the energy output…
on this?”
“Five times the old model.”
Tony walked over to the armor.
“And much more stable.
In theory, enough for me to take a few laps around the stratosphere.”
“In theory?”
Pepper caught the catch.
Tony was already stepping in as mechanical arms assisted him into the Mark II.
The silver-gray armor components clicked and locked into place around his body.
Ten seconds later, the Mark II was fully donned.
The faceplate slammed shut, and its eyes lit up with a blue glow.
“JARVIS,” Tony’s voice came through the speaker.
“Run self-diagnostics.”
“Self-diagnostics complete.
All systems nominal, Mr.
Stark,” the electronic voice sounded.
“External temperature is 12 degrees Celsius, wind speed level 3.
Conditions are suitable for a test flight.”
“Wait!” Pepper rushed in front of the suit.
“Tony, what are you doing?”
The faceplate lifted, revealing Tony’s face.
“Taking it out for a spin, of course.” He grinned like a kid with a new toy.
“Don’t worry, just around the neighborhood.”
“You haven’t even finished testing it.
It’s too dangerous!”
“Nothing dangerous about it, trust me, honey.”
With that, the faceplate sealed tight.
The thrusters at the suit’s feet spewed a blue-white tailfire laced with Revive-Revive Frost.
Fine ice crystals began to condense in the air.
*Hum—!*
The Mark II slowly hovered, turning toward the garage exit.
“Tony Stark!” Pepper took two quick steps after him.
“What if you fall?!”
“Then you can piece me back together,” Tony said with a chuckle.
“You know how to stitch, after all.”
The thruster output surged.
The silver-gray suit shot out of the garage like an arrow, disappearing into the night sky.
Pepper ran outside, only to see a blue-white streak across the sky, rapidly vanishing behind the clouds.
Biting her lip, she pulled out her phone and dialed a number.
Busy signal.
“Damn egomaniac…” she cursed under her breath.
She turned to head back inside, but instinctively touched her lips.
The icy touch still lingered there.
***
California night sky.
Tony tumbled through the clouds, thrusters at full blast, the suit tearing through the air with a roar.
“Hahaha!
Now *this* is flying!”
He pulled a sharp turn, looking down at the glittering lights of Los Angeles below.
The city shrank into a sea of pinpricks beneath his feet.
“Sir, altitude is twelve thousand meters,” JARVIS reported.
“External temperature is minus thirty-five degrees.
Frost is forming on the armor surface.”
“Turn on the heaters.”
Tony brushed it off.
“Heating system engaged, but frost accumulation exceeds defrost efficiency.
I advise descending.”
“Descend?” Tony scoffed.
“JARVIS, since when did you get so conservative?”
He piloted the suit to continue climbing.
Fifteen thousand meters.
Twenty thousand meters.
The air grew thinner, the temperature plunging precipitously.
The ice layer on the suit’s surface thickened at a visible rate.
“Sir, severe icing.
Joint flexibility reduced by seventeen percent.
Continued climb may lead to system failure.”
“What’s the maximum altitude record for a US military recon plane?” Tony asked suddenly.
“The SR-71 Blackbird has a service ceiling of approximately 85,000 feet, roughly 25,900 meters.”
Tony glanced at the altimeter: 24,500 meters.
Just a little bit more.
“Then let me break it,” he grinned.
“Today, Tony Stark redefines the ceiling.”
He pushed the thrusters to maximum power.
The suit punched through the cloud layer.
Above was the pitch-black void of space; below, the curved horizon of the Earth.
The starlight was cold, unfiltered by atmosphere, blindingly bright.
The altimeter ticked up: 25,000 meters…
25,500 meters…
“Ice coverage at eighty-three percent,” JARVIS’s voice began to break up.
“P-Power system…
overloaded…
recommend…”
*Click.*
The electronic voice abruptly cut off.
The display inside the faceplate went pitch black.
“JARVIS?” Tony called out loudly.
“JARVIS!”
No response.
The suit went completely silent.
Even worse, the ice now completely encased the suit, freezing all joints solid.
The thruster flames sputtered out into nothing.
Tony realized he had become a chunk of iron floating in weightlessness.
Then he began to fall.
“Oh, crap.”
Gravity reclaimed the suit, dragging him down toward the Earth.
Atmospheric friction cracked, melted, and vaporized the outer ice, but the internal systems remained dead.
Tony tried desperately to manipulate the suit’s manual overrides, trying to flip the emergency reboot toggle on the leg.
Nothing.
“Damn it!”
The only thing Tony could do was adjust his fall angle to avoid crashing into a populated urban area.
Fortunately, through his efforts, the suit plummeted toward a desolate suburb.
*BOOM!*
The Mark II slammed into the ground.
There was no explosion, only a deafening impact.
A crater ten meters in diameter was torn into the earth, throwing dust dozens of meters into the air.
At the bottom of the pit, the Mark II was completely mangled.
The silver-gray shell was shattered into dozens of fragments scattered all over the crater.
Exposed internal wiring sparked intermittently.
Tony’s body…
was also shattered.
His right arm lay on a dirt mound five meters away, hand stubbornly holding up a middle finger.
His right leg hung from a crooked tree at the edge of the pit, pant legs shredded.
His torso was embedded in the armor wreckage, the Arc Reactor at his chest flickering erratically.
His head had rolled to the far side of the pit, face up, eyes still wide open.
But Tony wasn’t dead.
Strictly speaking, he was already dead.
Right now, he was merely “disassembled.”
His consciousness floated in the air, manifesting as a semi-transparent, icy-blue soul form.
Looking down at the gruesome scene at the bottom of the pit, the soul palmed its face.
“Well,” he muttered, “that was a bit much.”
He tried controlling his body.
No response.
The parts were too far apart; even the Revive-Revive Fruit’s regenerative capability couldn’t pull together a body shattered like this.
“I need some help…”
Tony’s soul floated to the edge of the pit.
It was three in the morning, and the suburban highway was deserted.
He waited for five minutes.
In the distance, the rumble of an engine approached.
A Harley motorcycle rolled up, ridden by a dreadlocked, leather-jacket-clad hippie humming a tune.
The motorcycle stopped near the crater edge.
The rider pulled off his helmet, revealing a young face, around twenty.
He peered curiously into the pit, his eyes widening.
“Whoa…
car crash?
Or a meteor?”
Tony’s soul floated behind him.
After a moment’s thought, Tony reached out to pat his shoulder.
His hand passed right through.
The rider didn’t notice a thing.