Tony stood in silence, one palm rubbing his chin as he scrutinized the Mark armor from every angle. He had maintained this contemplative posture for quite some time.
Beside him, León struggled to suppress his laughter.
"So... why did you dye her pink?" Tony finally asked, his voice flat as he pointed at the now girlishly pink armor, his face blank.
"Oh, that?" León instantly wiped away his smirk and clasped his hands behind his back, his expression turning serious.
"That was a surprise carefully prepared for you by Jarvis."
He stepped forward and pointed to the chest plate, where the energy core was embedded. Around it, a small circle of faintly engraved English words could be seen.
León read aloud, "'Tony has a pink heart.'"
He turned and winked at Tony. "What do you think? Touching, isn't it? Pink represents innocence and kindness—Jarvis is complimenting you."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Thanks for the explanation. Otherwise, I never would've figured that out."
His lips twitched in a dry sneer. Just imagining wearing that armor again made his face flush. The thought of enemies collapsing in laughter before he even attacked, rendering weapons unnecessary, was not amusing.
He took a deep breath, words caught in his chest, his expression shifting to one of faint embarrassment.
León watched Tony's face change subtly and finally couldn't hold it in any longer. He burst into laughter.
Tony turned away, unwilling to look at the armor again.
"Jarvis, why did you dye her pink?" he asked, addressing the true culprit.
He had always referred to his first armor set affectionately as "her."
"Sir, it was Mr. León's suggestion," Jarvis replied. "He said that seeing the armor restored and dyed pink would lift your spirits."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
León immediately dragged Jarvis down with him. "Wait—Jarvis, you didn't object either. We all agreed it was a great idea, didn't we?"
"Mr. León, I must respectfully clarify," Jarvis responded smoothly, "as an artificial intelligence, I do not possess independent thought."
"Artificial retardation has no thoughts? Come on, Jarvis," León retorted. "You even reminded Tony last month that Pepper would be mad if he kept dating cover girls. So it's perfectly reasonable that you'd help prepare this 'surprise' for him too."
Tony's face darkened further.
"Enough!" he finally shouted, glaring at León, who was still chuckling. "Don't think I don't know this is revenge."
León didn't deny it. "So you do know it was wrong to make me haul that armor back from the cave for you."
Tony shrugged. "Okay, okay. I surrender. Let's call it even, alright? I'm not mad anymore, so stop torturing me over that little thing."
Over the past ten years, Tony had been "tormented" plenty by León. But he'd also grown accustomed to controlling his emotions around the younger man, much like a guardian watching over a mischievous child.
Of course, mischievous was only Tony's view. In others' eyes, León was quite well-behaved.
Take when he was a kid—he hated Tony's habit of bringing home new cover girls. So he got creative. He once looped recordings of Tony's sweet nothings to other women at full volume outside the bedroom door—right before things got steamy.
Every time, just as the girl started to warm up, the voice of another woman's memory would echo loudly, turning seduction into awkward tension. Furious, the woman would storm out.
León would then appear from behind a column, waving cheerfully: "Good night! Sweet dreams, Tony!"
The result? A beet-red Tony chasing him down the hall with a pillow.
Pepper, hearing the story the next morning, would just laugh—and secretly slip León a wad of pocket money.
This went on for about half a month.
Until Tony had a brand-new, soundproof bedroom installed.
After that, León's tricks—dancing, singing, pranking—were no match. Tony would simply play a Mozart symphony, enjoy peace, and spend the evening undisturbed.
These little "combats" between the two had started when León was just three, and they continued even after he hit high school and started bringing girls home himself. The first time León did that, they simply looked at each other and smiled knowingly.
A silent truce was formed.
But of course, in other areas, their back-and-forth never stopped. Sometimes Tony started it, sometimes León did.
Pepper once commented, "You two are like kids who'll never grow up."
"Jarvis, store this armor away and repaint her," Tony ordered, waving his hand. "I don't want to see her like this again."
"Oh, and get me a new batch of materials. I'm making a new armor."
"The cave was too crude—I couldn't unleash my full potential in that place. This time, León, I'll show you that my armor is no toy!"
León shrugged. "Sure. I'll believe it when I see it."
At that moment, the lab's clumsy robotic arms arrived, working together to roll the pink armor out of sight. León even helped.
He'd only had Jarvis paint it pink as a joke. He never expected Tony would actually wear it.
What he didn't expect even more was that, ten years later, during a visit to Tony's armor collection room, this very armor—pink, ridiculous, unforgettable—was displayed in the most prominent position among all the Mark models.
"You're starting now?" León asked.
Tony, true to his word, had cleared the workbench with one swift motion and was already preparing tools and sketches.
"You can't wait to prove yourself again, huh?"
"Watch your words," Tony said without looking up. "Tony Stark doesn't need to prove himself. He challenges himself."
"Fine, fine. But when you're done challenging yourself, come up for dinner," León said as he walked toward the lab stairs.
"To celebrate your safe return, Pepper's planning a small family dinner. Yinsen and Rhodey will be there."
Rhodey—Tony's close friend in the military—had such a bond with him that he'd even lend him the Iron Man suit without question.
"Just the four of us? No problem—as long as I'm not cooking," Tony called back. "Anything but that."
Ever since he served a charred sea bass, León hadn't let him live it down. Tony vowed never to step into the kitchen again.
When Pepper finished clearing up the media mess from Tony's press conference, she rushed back to the mansion. Spotting León in the hall, she lit up and ran over to give him a hug.
"León! Oh my God—Tony told me you were back, but I couldn't believe it. The Mark spacecraft is still orbiting Earth!"
The spacecraft, built by Tony, was nicknamed the Mark Spacecraft.
"And you just... flew back by yourself! That's insane!"
Her hands pressed gently against León's chest, and her eyes widened in amazement. "You're like a completely different person from six months ago! You're solid!"
"If I'd known you were this strong, I would've reached out earlier. Maybe Tony wouldn't have..."
She trailed off, guilt clouding her expression.
León smiled and reassured her. "It's alright, Pepper. You didn't want me to worry, right?"
"If I hadn't become this strong—strong as Superman—then even if you'd told me Tony was missing, I could've done nothing but feel helpless in the lonely void of space."
To León, Tony was like a brother—and half a father figure. Pepper, on the other hand, was a mix of sister and foster mother, someone who had always been there.
"And besides," León continued, "even though it was tough, maybe surviving all that wasn't so bad for Tony."
"Is that how you see it? I feel like he's lost his mind a little," Pepper frowned.
"Then maybe you just don't understand a man who's faced death," León said, gently nudging her toward the kitchen. "Now come on, Pepper. We need your help with dinner, and I've got a great story about Tony's latest adventure."
A few hours later…
The dinner party ended on a high note, full of laughter and warmth.
Tony introduced Yinsen to Pepper and Rhodey, and it didn't take long before he was fully welcomed into their circle.
In the coming months, Yinsen would join Stark Industries' R&D division—finally able to focus on the work he loved.
During dinner, Tony also spoke about his new mission: creating something that could truly benefit the world.
Unfortunately, Rhodey wasn't quite on the same page—yet.