Back then, Tony was even younger, more arrogant, and more of a jerk than he would be later.
After listening to Henry's whole "we need power to face future crises" lecture, Tony just yawned dramatically, patted him on the shoulder, and said:
"Hey, little brother, you've got quite the imagination—you could write sci-fi novels. But instead of wasting time on this, why not come party with me? I just met a few new models—they're amazing."
He treated Henry's concerns like a child's unrealistic fantasy.
Henry fell silent.
He knew he couldn't convince anyone. He could only rely on himself.
From that day on, he began to study obsessively, learning everything he could get his hands on:
Physics, chemistry, engineering, biology…
He wanted to change his family's predetermined tragic fate with his own power.
He couldn't forget how, in Avengers: Endgame, Tony had sacrificed himself, snapping his fingers to save the world and turning to ash.
He also remembered another date clearly:
December 16, 1991.
The day Howard and Maria Stark were attacked.
He constantly reminded himself, reminded Tony and Howard, that armor could be made for self-protection.
But the materials and energy technologies of that time couldn't support such a concept.
Tony was still lost in indulgence, and Howard was busy with company affairs and S.H.I.E.L.D. matters with Peggy Carter.
No one took his warnings seriously.
Henry was speechless and desperate.
He resorted to the simplest, clumsiest method.
On December 16, using every excuse, throwing tantrums, pretending to be sick, and acting up, he managed to keep Howard and Maria at home instead of going out.
The doting parents didn't understand why their youngest was acting so strangely that day, but patiently spent the whole day with him.
When the clock struck midnight and a new day arrived, Henry looked at his unharmed parents and breathed a long sigh of relief.
He thought he had succeeded. He had changed history with his seemingly insignificant power.
But fate, like the cruelest playwright, played a merciless joke on him.
The accident didn't happen on the 16th.
On the night of the 26th, Howard and Maria went out to attend a friend's dinner—a completely ordinary outing.
Henry didn't pay much attention. He and Tony went to a different party.
The next day, he received the news that Howard and Maria had been attacked and killed.
At that moment, Henry felt the world spin. Heaven seemed to mercilessly mock his audacity.
Later, he gradually understood—according to those frustrating Marvel plot devices, some events might be absolute time points, unavoidable.
You can dodge the first, but not the fifteenth.
From that point on, he became even more diligent, even more obsessive.
He nearly forced the always-idle Tony out of his comfort zone and into the lab, working with him day and night.
It wasn't until the first rough, even somewhat ugly, Mark I armor was completed that he finally relaxed.
At least Tony now had a chance to protect himself.
But as expected, what's meant to happen still happens.
Even though he had guarded against Obadiah, Tony still didn't believe he was in danger without direct evidence.
Henry accounted for everything—except that he himself would become a kidnapping target.
However, without this kidnapping, he wouldn't have inadvertently gained his current powers.
Henry gazed at the noisy party scene, gently swirled his glass, and downed the remaining champagne.
He thought, perhaps this is fate:
ironic, yet full of surprises.
Time passed slowly under the influence of alcohol and music. The party gradually wound down.
Tony, holding a stunning black-haired beauty, staggered over.
"Hey, little brother, it's getting late," he slurred, a trace of drunkenness on his face.
"The party here should wrap up, but ours is just beginning. Let's go—time to head back."
Henry smiled, glancing at the reporter who had been sticking close and had managed to squeeze out quite a few exclusive stories from him.
"Of course."
He beckoned the reporter, and the four of them headed to the villa entrance.
Happy had been waiting, his round face full of exasperation.
He was probably thinking the two bosses finally wrapped up.
"Where to, boss?" Happy opened the car door for them.
"Home!" Henry and Tony said in unison, exchanging a glance and a smile.
"Malibu Villa!" Henry added.
The car drove smoothly through the night-lit streets of Los Angeles.
Inside, Tony and Henry exercised their endless humor, roasting each other and telling all sorts of jokes, making Jenna, the black-haired reporter, laugh heartily. The atmosphere was relaxed and lively.
"Honestly, Henry, that black armor of yours is terrible taste," Tony leaned back in his seat and said to Jenna.
"Look at it—so oppressive. Doesn't match my bright, sunny personality at all. My gold-and-red scheme has energy. Don't you think?"
"I think it looks great, Mr. Stark," Jenna replied with a smile.
"Oh, come on," Henry immediately fired back.
"Your scheme looks like a boiled lobster, doused in gold powder! Just tacky. My black is understated luxury, got it? That's art."
"Art? You call that art? At most, it's Gothic funeral style."
Soon, the white villa perched on the cliff came into view.
"Look, here's our secret base," Tony said, getting out of the car, showing the women like a kid with his toys.
"Looks simple, but trust me, what's inside will blow your mind."
"Simple?" Henry followed, mercilessly teasing.
"You call a house with helipads, an underground lab, and its own power station 'simple'? Tony, you might misunderstand the word. Even your toilets are bigger than most people's houses."
They laughed and walked into the villa.
"Welcome home, Mr. Tony, Mr. Henry," J.A.R.V.I.S.'s gentle voice greeted them in the hall.
"Hey, J.A.R.V.I.S., good evening," Henry said, then introduced the curious reporters beside him.
"Ladies, meet our super butler. He can do everything—except cook or clean my room."
"Good evening, ladies," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded politely.
"Pleasure to meet you. Also, Mr. Henry, your room's cleaning was completed at 2 PM today."
Henry: ...
They laughed their way up to the second floor.
The second-floor living room was dark.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., what's going on? Energy saving doesn't mean this—no lights at all?" Tony complained.
"Apologies, sir. I had not received a command to turn them on."
"Well, now you have, turn on—"
But Tony didn't finish. Henry suddenly stopped, standing in the darkness, eyes fixed ahead.
Tony looked at him curiously, teasing: "What's wrong, little brother? Scared of the dark? Or too drunk to find the switch?"
Henry ignored him and suddenly smiled.
Then, he turned and lightly tapped the blonde reporter's shapely backside.
"Hey!" she exclaimed.
"Sweetheart, sorry," Henry said, a hint of apology in his smile.
"You take Miss Jenna upstairs to the indoor pool and have some fun. Or take a shower and change clothes. My brother and I have a little family business to handle first."
The women paused, looking at each other, then at Tony.
Tony, though clueless about Henry's plan, understood his brother well.
If he was doing this, there was a reason.
"Go on, girls," he winked at them.
"The upstairs hot tub is temperature-controlled with essential oils. Enjoy yourselves. We'll join you after finishing our little chores."
Though still puzzled, the two women obediently headed upstairs.
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×××××××××××××××
If you're interested, you can read advanced chapters:
p-atreon.com/Redestro666