The lab wasn't quiet anymore.
It hadn't been for hours.
Metal hit the floor hard.
"…No," Tony Stark muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. "That's not it."
A half-assembled gauntlet sparked violently on the table, then died.
"Power spike exceeded safe thresholds," JARVIS said calmly.
"Yeah, I saw that," Tony snapped.
He paced. Fast.
Behind him, the footage played again.
Impact. Lightning. That distortion—
Tony stopped and stared.
"…You don't make sense."
Not the Hulk. Not Thor.
Lord.
Tony scrubbed through frame by frame. Again. Again. Again.
"…There's no pattern."
He slammed the interface.
"Which means I can't predict it. Which means I can't counter it—"
He stopped himself.
"…Okay. So don't."
Tony turned back to the table.
"New approach."
He grabbed another component, slotting it into place.
"JARVIS, reroute power through secondary channels. I want faster response time."
"Sir, that will destabilize the system."
"I know. Do it anyway."
The system hummed—
Then sparked.
The entire assembly shorted out.
Tony didn't flinch.
"…Again."
Time blurred.
Another prototype.
This one made it further.
Thrusters engaged. Stabilized.
Then failed.
The suit frame collapsed forward, hitting the table with a heavy metallic thud.
Tony stared at it.
"…That was closer."
Not good enough.
Never good enough.
He turned back to the screen.
The fight replayed again.
Thor's lightning. Hulk's impact.
And that—
That bending.
Tony leaned closer.
"…You don't fight," he said quietly. "…You just decide."
That was worse.
He stepped back.
"…Alright. Fine."
He turned toward the reactor.
"…Then I don't beat you."
A pause.
"…I survive you."
That changed everything.
Tony grabbed the new reactor design—his father's work, merged with his own.
"…Let's see if this actually works."
He connected it carefully.
For once.
The system powered up.
The light grew brighter.
Stronger.
Then—
It flickered.
Tony's expression tightened.
"Stabilize."
"Attempting."
The energy surged.
For a second—
Tony didn't move.
Then—
It leveled out.
Steady.
Stronger than before.
Tony let out a slow breath.
"…Okay."
"…That works."
But even then—
He didn't smile.
Because that was just the beginning.
He turned back to the suit.
"Reinforce the frame. I want it to take a hit like that and still stand."
"Define 'like that,'" JARVIS asked.
Tony glanced at the screen.
"…Everything we just watched."
"Working."
Tony moved again.
Faster now.
More focused.
Less guessing.
More adapting.
But still—
Not enough.
Hours passed. Then more.
Pieces broke.
Systems failed.
Armor cracked under stress tests.
Thrusters burned out.
Energy output spiked too high—then too low—then nowhere near enough.
Tony slammed his hand against the table.
"…Come on!"
The room didn't respond.
JARVIS didn't speak.
Because there was nothing to say.
Tony leaned forward, hands braced against the surface, breathing heavier now.
"…They're not slowing down."
The footage played again.
"…And I'm still back here."
That—
That was the part he hated.
He straightened slowly.
"…No."
Not angry.
Not loud.
Just—
Decided.
"I'm not falling behind."
He grabbed another component.
Started again.
This time—
Different.
Not stronger.
Smarter.
The design shifted.
Less brute force.
More response.
More adjustment.
More survival.
Tony worked.
And this time—
Something held.
The frame stayed intact.
The systems didn't collapse.
The reactor fed into it—
Clean.
Stable.
Not perfect.
But real.
Tony stepped back, staring at it.
"…Alright."
A small breath.
"…That's something."
He looked at the armor.
Then back at the footage.
"…You're still way out of my league," he admitted.
A pause.
"…But I'm getting there."
And this time—
He meant it.