The pale green fluid in the stasis pod slowly drained away, and the hatch slid open without a sound.
Paul braced himself against the wall of the pod, stepping out one foot at a time. Each step felt like treading on cotton, unsteady and weak. The deep, searing pain in the marrow of his bones, a feeling of being utterly drained, had not yet fully subsided—a stark reminder of how insane his last experiment had been.
"'Nightwatch' Protocol complete. Physical functions restored to ninety-four percent. It is recommended that you avoid strenuous physical activity and high-intensity mental exertion for the next twelve hours."
A calm, measured voice echoed in the empty laboratory.
Paul ignored it, walking straight to the holographic console to pull up the recent experimental data.
The massive gulf representing the delay between his brain's commands and his body's reactions was displayed before him, a glaring, insurmountable abyss.
He reached out, swiping across the virtual screen to construct a new simulation program.
Target: Himself.
Experimental Parameters: Brain overclock, nine percent power.
The moment he pressed "Start," the humanoid model on the virtual screen didn't even last a second. First, its head exploded like a watermelon. Then, a chain reaction of cellular collapse tore through its entire body, dissolving it into a blurry stream of flesh and data.
Simulation Result: Absolute death.
Paul watched it all with a blank expression, but the tips of his fingers trembled slightly.
He had gambled right, and he had gambled wrong.
The energy wave, similar to that of a "higher-dimensional being," was indeed the key to a breakthrough. But it was also a double-edged sword with no hilt. To wield it, one first had to accept the price of having their hand severed.
His body, this mortal frame, was the greatest weakness.
"The hardware can't keep up with the software's iterations..." he muttered to himself, his voice tinged with an undeniable exhaustion.
Either he found a way to enhance his physical body, to transform himself into something non-human, or he would have to lower the acceleration multiplier, turning this world-changing power into little more than a trivial toy.
He closed the simulation program, his gaze lingering for a moment on the complex data stream before returning to a state of calm.
Perhaps, there was a third path.
Just because his own body couldn't handle it didn't mean someone else's couldn't. For instance... a certain someone with an arc reactor in his chest and a physique that was already far from ordinary.
…
On the Malibu coastal highway, a silver-gray Chevrolet Corvette streaked through the twilight tranquility like a beam of light.
The setting sun cast a golden glow upon its chassis, outlining its aggressively sleek lines. The car's appearance was enough to drive any supercar enthusiast wild.
But its true secret was hidden beneath that magnificent shell.
Paul gripped the steering wheel, feeling the surging power from the engine. This was no ordinary sports car. This was his first creation—"Sideswipe."
A true Transformer, capable of shifting from its sports car form into a combat mech at any moment.
In the trunk were the disassembled and compressed core components of his virtual laboratory, along with a Christmas present wrapped in a beautiful gift box.
The Stark Mansion was just ahead, its festive lights and decorations giving the entire building a warm and dreamlike glow.
Sideswipe came to a smooth stop at the garage entrance, parking alongside Tony's expensive collection.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., open up. And tell the old man his precious son is home with a surprise," Paul said into the air.
"Welcome home, Mr. Paul. And, if I may be so bold, sir, your 'surprises' are often accompanied by a certain degree of 'shock'."
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s eternally unchanging British accent seemed to have gained a hint of human-like banter.
Paul let out a soft chuckle, pushed the door open, and got out of the car.
The living room was as warm as spring. A massive Christmas tree was adorned with lights and ornaments. Tony was lounging on the sofa, a glass of whiskey in hand, talking to Pepper beside him. Pepper, dressed in a beige loungewear set, was listening intently with a gentle smile on her face.
The scene was impossibly cozy.
"Hey, did I interrupt a heartwarming family moment?"
Paul's voice broke the tranquility.
Tony and Pepper turned their heads at the same time.
"So you finally decided to crawl out of your mouse hole?" Tony raised an eyebrow, his tone as punchable as ever. "What's with the car outside? I don't remember having such a... flashy Corvette in my collection."
"Good eye," Paul said, walking over to the bar and pouring himself a glass of juice. "It's your Christmas present. Like it?"
"For me?" Tony's eyes lit up for a moment before he reverted to his usual devil-may-care expression. "It's alright. The design is a bit better than that 'Golden Armor' you made last time. At least I won't be mistaken for new money when I drive it."
"Paul, you're back." Pepper stood up and gave him a warm hug. She whispered softly in his ear, "You don't look so good. Has it been busy in the lab?"
Her concern was thoughtful and direct, and it warmed Paul's heart.
"Just didn't sleep well last night," he said dismissively. "Was rushing to finish a certain someone's Christmas present."
Pepper glanced at him, her eyes holding a look of understanding and a faint, almost imperceptible worry. She clearly knew some things that Tony didn't.
A lavish Christmas dinner was soon ready.
The atmosphere at the dinner table was lively and harmonious.
Tony was boasting animatedly about how he'd recently donned the suit, effortlessly resolved an international crisis, and landed on the covers of several magazines in the process.
Paul, meanwhile, would interject from time to time, mercilessly using technical jargon and data to point out a few "harmless" little flaws in his suit's design, which made Tony fume.
"...Anyway, Stark Industries' military contracts next year—no, our *clean energy* contracts—are absolutely going to double!" Tony concluded with a flourish.
"I'm afraid not," Paul said, slowly cutting his steak. "My new company is going public next year. Our main products are virtual reality interactive systems and personal terminals. When that happens, Stark Industries' stock price might take a little hit."
Tony froze, staring at Paul in disbelief. "What did you say? You're starting a company? To compete with me?"
Pepper, holding back a laugh, explained, "Tony, I helped Paul with the paperwork for his company. And technically, your businesses don't conflict. They could even be complementary."
Tony looked at Paul's calm expression, then at Pepper, who was clearly siding with Paul, and felt his status in the family was being seriously challenged.
How was it that he, the father, was starting to feel more and more like an outsider?
"Fine, have it your way!" Tony put down his fork and knife and pointed at Paul. "Kid, don't think you can challenge your old man's authority just because you cooked up some little gadgets. So, what's the real present you got for me? If it doesn't satisfy me, I'm confiscating that car outside."
Finally, it was time.
Paul also set down his utensils and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
He looked up, meeting Tony's curious and challenging gaze, and smiled mysteriously.
"A gift that will let you... get faster."
As he said this, his eyes shone with a mixture of anticipation and pride. It was the look of a genius inventor revealing his most treasured creation.
However, just as he smiled, a wave of faint dizziness washed over him.
The candlelight before him seemed to flicker, and the faces of Tony and Pepper blurred for a split second.
His heart skipped a beat. The knuckles of the hand holding the juice glass tightened unconsciously, and a subtle tremor ran through it before vanishing.
He nonchalantly took a sip of juice, suppressing the strange sensation.
But none of it escaped Pepper's eyes.
Her smile faded slightly as she asked with concern, "Paul, are you really okay?"
"I'm fine, probably just a little tired," Paul said, trying to keep his tone light. "The gift is in the garage. You can open it tomorrow morning. I promise, you'll love it."
With that, he excused himself, stood up, and turned to walk toward his room upstairs.
With his back to the warm light of the living room, the smile on his face slowly faded.
The "acceleration" device he had prepared for Tony was a safe version stripped from his own "brain overclocking" technology, with the multiplier strictly controlled at two percent.
In theory, this multiplier shouldn't put any strain on Tony's body.
But his own body was now protesting even the residual strain from developing it.
Back in his room, he closed the door.
Paul leaned against the door, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. A bone-deep exhaustion spread through him, clinging like a stubborn disease.
He gazed out the window at the glittering Malibu nightscape, and a thought suddenly arose in his mind that unsettled even him.
This Christmas gift, the one he was so proud of, was it truly a surprise for Tony Stark, or was it... Pandora's Box?