Tony's workshop was vast and brilliantly lit, packed wall to wall with dazzling scientific instruments. In the open space at its center hovered a full-scale holographic city model—skyscrapers, streets, kiosks, every detail rendered with breathtaking clarity.
The most striking sight, however, was the display cases along the wall. A neat row of Iron Man armors stood inside them, each one different, each one radiating a powerful visual impact that made the heart race.
Inside the workshop, Tony wore protective goggles as he performed precision spot-welding on a small device. JARVIS calmly informed him that Clara had been standing outside the door for five full minutes.
Tony removed his goggles. Outside, Clara was still staring at the armor display, her curiosity written plainly on her face.
"Open the door, JARVIS."
"Yes, sir."
The password-protected door slid open without warning. Clara froze for a moment, then stepped inside.
"You should be back in bed," Tony said.
He stood up and retrieved two bottles of drinks from a cabinet. "Want one?"
Clara shook her head. "No. I just had water… It's already two in the morning. You should be sleeping."
"Are you telling me what I should do?" Tony turned and looked at her.
Clara shook her head again. "No. I just think staying up late is a bad habit."
"I couldn't sleep, so I came down to work," Tony replied casually. "Same as you, right?"
"That's different," Clara insisted, standing behind the couch. "I already slept all day. You should lie down—if you stay in bed long enough, you'll fall asleep."
Tony turned sideways and glared at her. Clara didn't blink, calmly meeting his gaze.
"Alright," Tony finally said, conceding defeat. "You tell me how to fall asleep. If it works, I'll go to bed."
He blinked hard—staring made his eyes dry anyway.
"You could… count sheep."
"Doesn't work. I tried. I counted to eighty thousand."
"Then listen to music. I heard it helps people sleep."
"Tried that too. Didn't work."
"What kind of music do you listen to?"
A booming DJ track suddenly filled the workshop—perfect for hyping up a party, not for sleeping.
"…This?" Clara's voice was full of disbelief. "You expect to fall asleep to this?"
"Hey, hey, that's just one song! Don't sabotage me. JARVIS!"
The music cut off, and the workshop fell silent again.
Clara tilted her head and looked up at the ceiling, thinking seriously about what songs she knew that were gentle and soothing enough to induce sleep. Her thoughtful expression made Tony look up as well.
There was, of course, nothing on the ceiling.
"…How about you sing me a song?" Tony suggested suddenly.
"W–What? Me?" Clara pointed at herself, utterly confused.
"Yes. You singing might actually put me to sleep."
Tony lifted his legs and lay down on the couch, fully prepared.
"But… I can't sing."
Clara liked listening to music and sometimes hummed along, but she had never really sung for anyone.
"That's fine. Even if it's terrible, I won't mind."
Tony closed his eyes, signaling her to begin.
Clara's mind raced. Love songs? No. Inspirational songs? No. Children's songs? Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star? No. Lullabies? No—none of them felt right.
Then, almost reflexively, she opened her mouth and sang:
The sky hangs low, the night is wide,
Stars stay quiet, keeping time.
Fireflies drift, a soft, slow glow,
Like little thoughts I never say out loud.
The world goes still, the roses fade,
The wind moves through what's left of the day.
It's cold out here, but I don't mind,
Not as long as you're by my side.
The fireflies settle, the flowers close,
Everything rests the way it's supposed to.
The dark isn't what scares me most—
It's being alone with a heavy heart.
I don't care how far we roam,
Which way we turn, or where we go.
If I'm worn out, if I'm nowhere near,
I'll find my way as long as you're here.
The melody of "Fireflies Fly" was gentle and tender, the kind that slipped straight into the heart. It didn't need ornate words—just "missing you," just "as long as you're here"—and already the emotion was enough to make one's eyes sting.
JARVIS quickly located the instrumental accompaniment in his database. With the workshop's surround sound, Clara's young, unpolished voice drifted closer, then farther, then closer again—like a forgotten childhood memory resurfacing from the depths.
Tony fell into a sweet, peaceful dream.
By the second verse, faint snoring could be heard.
Lost in the song, Clara suddenly opened her eyes and froze, black lines practically forming over her head.
So he falls asleep that fast?!
The workshop temperature was comfortable, but sleeping uncovered like this would still invite a cold.
"JARVIS, is there a blanket?"
With a soft mechanical whir, a robotic arm extended and delivered a thin blanket. Clara took it and carefully draped it over Tony.
"Thank you, JARVIS."
"That unit is called Dum-E," JARVIS explained. "Mr. Stark designed it as an evolvable robot prototype. The other one is U."
As JARVIS introduced them, Dum-E and U raised their mechanical arms and waved at Clara.
"They can evolve?" Clara asked. "How?"
JARVIS patiently explained the design principles behind Dum-E and U. Clara listened seriously—but still didn't quite understand. It all sounded very complicated.
In simple terms, they could one day develop independent thinking, preferences, even emotions—like the robots in science fiction movies.
That was theory.
In practice, they could currently only understand very simple commands, often misunderstood complex ones, and occasionally did the wrong thing entirely.
For now, their main job was cleaning the workshop.
Still, Clara was fascinated. Robots that could evolve were practically a brand-new species!
"Hi, Dum-E. Hi, U. I'm Clara Johnson. Nice to meet you."
She introduced herself earnestly.
The robots only waved their arms again, without much reaction.
"Your sentence structure is too complex for them," JARVIS explained. "They can't process it."
"…That's complex?" Clara blinked. "Okay, let's make this simpler."
She found four sheets of paper in different colors.
Orange represented Garfield JARVIS, blue was Clara, white was Dum-E, and yellow was U.
Whenever Clara pointed to a name, she raised the corresponding color card. After demonstrating several times, she let Dum-E and U try.
"JARVIS."
U hesitated, but Dum-E reacted quickly, selecting the orange card.
"U."
Dum-E immediately grabbed the yellow card, while U mistakenly thought Clara was calling it and lifted its arm in confusion.
Clearly, Dum-E and U did not have the same processing power.
-----
Tony dreamed.
He dreamed of his mother, Maria, and his father, Howard.
His mother was as gentle and beautiful as ever, always encouraging him no matter what. His father, however, had lost all his former severity. Instead, he wore the warm, kindly expression Tony had longed for his entire life.
In the dream, Tony was praised by his father—told he was his pride, that Howard was proud of him.
It was the kind of dream one never wanted to wake from.
But wake he did.
As white-haired Howard and Maria walked hand in hand into the distance and faded away, Tony opened his eyes, damp with tears.
Lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, he had no desire to move.
Then his gaze shifted.
At a nearby table stood a strange gathering.
Two robotic arms.
One chubby orange cat projection.
And one human girl.
They were difficult to categorize as any single species—"a group" was the only word that fit.
They surrounded a table covered in brightly colored paper, an atmosphere resembling some sort of bizarre ritual hanging in the air.
It was… oddly unsettling.
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