The Nirvana compound had grown steadily since its unveiling. New buildings rose from the soil, modest but purposeful, their designs reflecting more practicality than grandeur. The courtyard was filled with volunteers—young and old, students and retirees—moving supplies, laying bricks, or organizing the ever-expanding lists that Aunt May kept pinned to her clipboard.
It was in this bustle that the sleek black car rolled up. Even before the door opened, heads turned. Everyone knew the name that came with the Stark Industries logo.
Tony Stark stepped out in his usual flair, sunglasses in place, his stride carrying both confidence and impatience.
"Wow," he muttered, glancing around. "Not exactly a start-up garage, but also not a Stark Expo. Interesting middle ground you've got here."
Brendon King greeted him with a calm smile. "Welcome to Nirvana, Tony. I thought it was time you saw for yourself what we're building."
Aunt May joined at Brendon's side, her presence more grounding than ceremonial. She gave Tony a warm smile, though her eyes carried that quiet, measuring look she gave anyone who wandered into her circle.
"Mr. Stark," she said. "We appreciate your time."
Tony gave a little flourish of a bow. "Please, May—don't thank me until I see what you're doing with my money. I get nervous when my name's on something and I don't know where the wiring goes."
The Tour
They walked first through the medical wing—small, still incomplete, but staffed with volunteers from local clinics and Aunt May's FEAST colleagues. Beds were lined with donated sheets, medicine supplies stacked neatly in labeled crates.
Tony's sharp gaze lingered on the sterilization unit, the improvised solar panels rigged up on the roof. "Not bad. But you're burning out half your efficiency without a regulator. I'll send you schematics for a Stark-grade one. Call it a discount model."
Brendon nodded, tucking the comment away. "Noted."
From there, they toured the education wing—simple classrooms outfitted with whiteboards, second-hand computers, and hand-built furniture. Children's laughter echoed through the open windows as volunteers painted murals of trees and suns.
Tony paused, tapping his sunglasses against his chin. "You know, most people don't bother. They donate textbooks and pat themselves on the back. You're actually building something sustainable."
"People need more than handouts," Brendon said. "They need tools to build their own futures."
Aunt May shot him a proud glance.
Tony smirked. "Careful, Brendon. Talk like that, and people will start calling you the anti-Stark."
They passed into the logistics hub, where data terminals blinked with mapped-out supply routes. Alicia and a small team of admins were cross-checking shipments, updating ledgers, and coordinating with other outreach groups.
Tony leaned over a shoulder, his voice carrying that casual brilliance. "If you're planning to scale, you'll need redundancy. These systems will choke under real pressure. I could suggest a few modular upgrades—keep things light but expandable."
Alicia blinked at him like a deer in headlights. "Uh… yes, Mr. Stark."
Brendon chuckled. "You'll have to forgive him. He can't resist tinkering."
Tony spread his arms, mock offense. "Hey, if I see a chance to save your sorry data from collapsing, I take it. Consider it a free consultation."
The Departure
By the time they circled back to the courtyard, the sun had begun to dip. Volunteers waved, and children stared at the billionaire with wide eyes. For once, Tony didn't brush it off with sarcasm. He gave a few nods, even a half-smile.
Finally, at the car, Tony turned to Brendon. His usual levity softened just a fraction. "You're building something good here. Different. Makes me wonder if I've been aiming too high in the clouds, forgetting about the ground beneath me."
Brendon inclined his head. "Everyone has their role, Tony. Yours is larger than you think."
Tony exhaled, sliding his sunglasses back into place. "Speaking of roles—I've got to leave tomorrow. Afghanistan. Stark Industries demo. You know how it is—big boom, big contract, big photo op."
Brendon's jaw tightened imperceptibly. "Afghanistan," he repeated.
"Don't sound so grim, King. It's routine. I'll be back in a week with a fresh paycheck." Tony smirked, slipping into the car. "Try not to start a utopia without me."
The car door shut, and within moments the Stark Industries vehicle rolled away, leaving only a cloud of dust in the sunset.
Brendon's Resolve
Brendon stood still for a long moment, his mind racing far faster than he let on. The Omnitrix's hum at his wrist was a reminder of the countless files he'd stored, the contingencies he'd drafted.
He knew what awaited Tony Stark in Afghanistan. The Ten Rings. Betrayal. The cave. The spark of Iron Man's true birth.
Brendon's gaze hardened. I won't let him die in that desert. Not while I have the means to stop it.
Aunt May touched his arm gently, pulling him from his thoughts. "You look worried, Brendon."
He smiled faintly, covering the storm beneath. "Just thinking ahead."
But inside, plans were already forming. If the world was about to shift, then Nirvana—and Brendon himself—would be ready.