"...Regarding the incident at the Stark Industries facility last night, the official statement has been released. According to witnesses, a mechanical malfunction occurred, but thankfully, Tony Stark's personal bodyguard intervened..."
The television flickered in the background of Robert's garage, tuned into a live press conference co-hosted by the U.S. military and Stark Industries. On-screen stood Colonel James Rhodes, military liaison and longtime friend of Tony Stark, delivering a carefully crafted narrative full of half-truths and scripted vagueness.
Next, Tony Stark himself appeared on the stage. Dressed in his signature tailored suit and sunglasses, he stepped up to the podium with a stack of cue cards in hand. He barely managed two lines before a sharp voice interrupted him.
"Mr. Stark, do you really expect us to believe that?"
The room quieted. Tony tossed the cue cards aside.
"The truth is…"
"I am Iron Man."
The crowd erupted into chaos.
Watching the broadcast from the garage couch, Robert let out a low whistle. "Yup, that's gonna keep the PR team busy."
He glanced over at Peter, who had been busy studying a blueprint at the workbench. The kid's eyes were now glued to the screen, jaw slightly agape.
"Tony Stark is Iron Man?" Peter gasped. "That's so cool!"
It wasn't like the world hadn't already speculated. The fight between two armored giants on the freeway had been all over the internet since dawn. Dozens of cell phone videos showed the golden-red armor duking it out with a bulkier steel juggernaut. The Mark III's sleek, futuristic style made it an instant favorite online—especially for tech-minded kids like Peter.
The other armor, the Iron Monger, was ugly and boxy—clearly the villain of the story. To Peter's eyes, it looked like something straight out of a second-tier comic book villain's garage.
And then realization struck.
He turned to the blueprint displayed on Robert's monitor. Bulky shoulders. Clunky frame. Dull color scheme.
"…Wait. That's the ugly armor from the videos!"
Robert raised an eyebrow. "Ugly? That's a little harsh."
"You said a superhero gave this to you," Peter accused, pointing at the schematic. "This is the armor that got wrecked on live TV!"
"Well, technically," Robert said, raising a finger, "it was originally designed by Tony Stark. That makes it a superhero suit by association."
Peter narrowed his eyes. "Tony Stark gave this to you?"
"Of course. Don't believe me? I've got video."
Robert reached for his camcorder and scrolled through the footage. "Here, see for yourself."
The screen came alive with action. The Iron Monger grabbed the Mark III by the leg and slammed it against the pavement repeatedly like a ragdoll.
Peter's jaw dropped. "Wait—what?!"
"Oops. Wrong part," Robert said casually and rewound.
This time, the footage showed Iron Monger stomping on Mark III with brutal force. Sparks flew. Tony Stark groaned.
"Okay, okay, maybe I need to skip ahead—"
But Peter had already turned pale.
For months, he'd idolized Tony Stark as the ultimate hero. The genius billionaire with a heart of metal. But here he was, getting curb-stomped by a rust bucket. It didn't make sense.
Robert could see the kid's confidence wobbling. He softened his tone. "Don't be discouraged. The Iron Monger was based on Stark's prototype. In a way, it's his own tech being used against him. So technically, he was just fighting… himself."
Peter blinked. "…That helps. A little."
Robert leaned in. "Want to know the real reason Stark gave you this design?"
Peter nodded.
"To encourage me?"
"Nope."
"To remind me not to build clunky armor?"
"Wrong again."
Robert grinned. "He gave it to you so you could build a better one—and beat him in a duel."
Peter blinked. "That can't be right. No one wants to get beat up."
"Think about it," Robert said, tapping the screen. "He got beat, sure—but look at his face. Rewind to the end."
The video played again. Tony Stark lay on the ground, helmetless, armor dented, face smudged with soot. And yet, there was the faintest trace of a smile.
"See that?" Robert said. "That's not pain. That's pride. He's thinking: finally, someone's catching up."
Peter squinted. "…That smile looks kinda forced."
"It's a smile of victory," Robert insisted. "He's proud that someone pushed him to his limit. Trust me—when you knock him flat with your own super suit, he'll be thrilled."
Peter's mind raced with the image. Him, in a sleek battle suit, trading blows with Iron Man, holding his own—maybe even winning. It was exhilarating and terrifying.
"I'm gonna build it," Peter declared, fists clenched. "I'll make something better. Stronger. Sleeker!"
Robert slapped his thigh. "Now that's the spirit! Go study up!"
Peter took off toward the room, shouting back, "I'll start with the repulsor blueprints!"
Robert leaned back in his chair, chuckling. "This kid's gonna be dangerous."
---
Back on the screen, the press conference had just ended. The credits rolled, and the news anchors were already speculating about "America's Newest Hero."
Suddenly, Robert's vision shimmered.
[Title Acquired: "Holy Light Is Fooling You" — Unlocked]
[Condition: Convince fifteen villains to change their ways (0/15)]
[Reward: Title – Super High School Level Priest]
He blinked. "What the hell doe
s that even mean?"
------
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