Henry raised an eyebrow at Tony's unusually serious expression.
"Oh? Really?" he teased.
"What is this, your superhero inauguration speech? Or are you running for President? Just a reminder, your private life wouldn't survive the press digging too deep—not that the public doesn't already know plenty."
Henry knew he wasn't the best at expressing emotions, but seeing Tony like this, he understood his brother had something important to say.
Their time in the Afghan cave had changed Tony. He had grown, matured—though to Henry, he was still the same arrogant older brother.
Maybe that was just the damn competitive streak in him.
Still, Henry wasn't the type to get sentimental and indulge in some cheesy "brotherly bonding" speech. It wasn't his style.
His real plan was straightforward: fix Tony's arc reactor problem within the next few days. His brother wasn't allowed to die here.
That meant S.H.I.E.L.D. needed a visit.
The new element was hidden in the Stark Expo model—Henry already intended to take it directly. And since Nick Fury was holding onto that little secret, he planned to remind "Baldy McEyepatch" exactly who was in charge.
With the serum strengthening Tony's body, the poisoning was no longer critical. That gave Henry the perfect chance to schedule surgery to finally remove the shrapnel.
Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. were both already on his list. Everything had been planned out in his head for a long time.
Even Ethan glanced over curiously.
Tony ignored the teasing and went to the lounge area.
He pulled a bottle of red wine from the cabinet, poured three glasses—one for Henry, one for Ethan, and one for himself.
Carrying his glass, he sat down on the couch, exhaling deeply as though preparing to say something of immense weight.
"Alright," he said quietly. "Let's talk."
Henry studied the serious look on Tony's face and, for once, set aside the smirk.
He took a seat opposite, crossing his legs and swirling his glass with an exaggerated I'm listening expression.
"Go on then. Superhero speech. Make it grand and moving—maybe you'll even squeeze a tear out of me."
Tony clenched his fist, savoring the overwhelming power coursing through him—power that made him feel like he could crush steel.
His eyes were complicated as he stared at Henry.
"Henry," he began, his voice low,
"I'll admit… this feels intoxicating. Like you said—I feel like Superman. And if I feel this strong, I can't imagine what it's like for you."
"So tell me. What do you think?" Tony asked, meeting his gaze directly.
"I mean about the future. Our plan. Our goals. What's next? We used to talk about playing superhero once the Mark suits were perfected, but that was just us killing time. A toy, nothing serious."
He paused, then shrugged.
"Truth is, even before this—we were already playing saviors."
Henry rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.
Sure, Tony had shut down Stark Industries' weapons division. But before his kidnapping, he had always justified his inventions as "protecting the world."
Their superhero antics had originally just been a game to them.
Henry thought for a moment, then downed his wine in one gulp.
"My plan's always been there," he said slowly, calmly.
"I just never told you."
"Oh really?" Tony arched a brow.
"And what's this grand plan of yours? You keeping secrets from your big brother? What is it—selling Stark Industries to live off cheeseburgers for the rest of your life?"
"Not a bad idea," Henry shot back dryly.
"At least it's more realistic than your dream of running a permanent model-only party."
He set down his glass, inhaled, and looked between Tony and Ethan. His expression sharpened—serious, cold, even carrying a flicker of killing intent.
"My plan is simple," Henry said.
"For now—revenge. Ruthless revenge."
"I'm going to destroy Hydra. Cut off every head so they never grow back. And then—I'll find the one who killed our parents."
Tony's expression froze.
The words hit him like a lightning strike.
"Killers? Hydra?" he echoed blankly.
"What are you talking about? Mom and Dad… they died in a car crash."
Deep inside, memories of his parents resurfaced.
He thought of his strict father, Howard Stark—demanding, withholding, always distant. The man who seemed to choose work over family every time.
Tony had spent much of his life believing his father didn't love him—that he only saw Tony as a successor. He resented him for leaving behind nothing but a burdensome empire and relentless expectations.
If not for Henry, Tony might have spiraled into something darker long ago.
"Car crash?" Henry shook his head.
"Tony, do you really believe that? You think a man like Dad—one of the founders of a secret organization powerful enough to change the world—would just die in some ordinary accident?"
He downed the last of his wine and locked eyes with Tony.
"Brother, listen carefully. Their deaths weren't an accident. They were murdered. Cold-blooded murder. By Hydra. Remember that group I mentioned, the one that recruited countless Hydra scientists?"
Tony jolted, his body trembling.
He shot upright, nearly dropping his glass.
For a moment, his mind went blank.
Then rage erupted inside him like a volcano.
"Who?!" The word tore from between his clenched teeth.
But even before Henry answered, Tony started piecing it together.
Of course. His father was a man of power, burdened with secrets, loyal to America. To Hydra—a parasite festering within S.H.I.E.L.D.—Howard Stark was the ultimate obstacle.
Henry leaned forward, voice steady.
"I got this from a dying Hydra officer in their base. The one who killed our parents was called the Winter Soldier. Real name—Bucky Barnes. Captain America's best friend. Dad and Aunt Peggy's friend too."
"Seventy years ago, during a mission with Cap, he fell off a speeding train into a ravine. Everyone thought he was dead. But Hydra found him. They saved him, gave him a metal arm, erased his memories, and turned him into a brainwashed assassin."
Henry's eyes turned icy cold.
"But I don't care if he was brainwashed. I don't care who he used to be."
"He killed our parents. For that—he must die. Nothing will change that."
Yes, Bucky had to die. Blood for blood.
Filial vengeance left no room for mercy.
Henry didn't care what Captain America thought. If the frozen old man wanted to defend his friend, then Henry would just deal with him too.
.
.
.
.
...
Just 25 stones off from 200. I know we can do it dear readers. Thanks for your support 🙏
××××××××××××××××
If you're interested and wish to support me, you can read advanced chapters:
p-atreon.com/Redestro666