At a large S.H.I.E.L.D. base—
After finishing his call with **Pichu**, **Nick Fury** headed into a secure room. He logged into his personal terminal and began reviewing recent reports about Tony Stark.
After scanning for a while, Fury saw nothing unusual.
After a pause, he used his clearance to activate S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal AI system, bypassing J.A.R.V.I.S.'s monitoring long enough to quietly check some of Tony's less-restricted files.
Of course, "less restricted" here meant by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s standards. Thanks to J.A.R.V.I.S., not just anyone could access even the most mundane Stark Industries data.
Could S.H.I.E.L.D.'s AI compare to J.A.R.V.I.S.? In some ways, yes. The fact that Fury and Coulson had previously been able to bypass J.A.R.V.I.S. and walk right into Tony's Malibu villa—just like in the movies—proved that much.
J.A.R.V.I.S. was formidable, but not infallible. At least, not in his early iterations.
That said, it wasn't that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s system was *vastly* superior—more like they were evenly matched. In minor matters, if one side chose to act subtly and the other side wasn't actively looking, little tricks could slip by unnoticed.
So Fury was restricting himself to simple data checks. If he tried to access restricted "Iron Man" classified files, J.A.R.V.I.S. would detect the intrusion within seconds.
Soon, Fury came across a copy of Tony's recent blood test.
**Result:** Metal poisoning.
Blood toxicity level: **14%**.
"I see…" Fury muttered.
He tapped at the console, drafted a few short messages, and sent them off.
***
**Three days later**
Night had fallen, stars scattered across the sky.
The Stark Expo opened right on schedule.
At Tony's villa, **Pichu** entered the lab and asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to stream the event live.
After all, the Stark Expo wasn't just crawling with people—it was a global showpiece, broadcast live everywhere.
Watching Tony make his grand entrance on the screen, Pichu's expression twisted into mild disdain.
**Yep.** Tony was still Tony.
Even after months of living together, some habits clearly died hard.
Pichu recalled that, not long ago, Tony had gone to Washington for a Senate hearing about the Iron Man armor—chaired, if he remembered correctly, by a HYDRA-affiliated senator.
The real motive: to strong-arm Tony into "handing over" the Iron Man tech to the government, so they could quietly channel it to HYDRA later.
In front of the media and government officials, Tony hadn't outright exploded on them—but his sarcasm and snappy comebacks left the officials' faces stormy by the end.
Pichu had enjoyed every word of it.
*For those with bad intentions? That's exactly how you deal with them.*
Nothing quite like the feeling of *"you can't stand me, but you can't touch me."*
Satisfied, Pichu had J.A.R.V.I.S. cut the livestream. He returned to his room, switched on his mini arc reactor generator, and began absorbing power.
***
Before long, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice came through:
**"Mr. Pichu, sir is calling you."**
"Patch him through." Pichu rubbed his cheek while answering.
Tony's voice came, upbeat:
> "Hey, Pichu. Big day today—the Expo's incredible. Too bad you're missing it. Want to come to New York for a few days?"
"What's going on?" Pichu asked flatly.
"Well…" Tony's smile was almost audible as he explained:
> "Since I came to New York, Pepper refuses to let me leave right away. Says I'm still the head of the company and should stick around a few days to help her handle business until she finds a new secretary she's happy with.
> So—I figured, why not get you out here? The villa must be boring without me around."
"Oh, and there's a Monaco Grand Prix coming up. The organizers sent me an invite—I was going to pass, but now I might go check it out. After being cooped up so long, it's time to get out and enjoy life. The world's full of color, my friend, and life's too short not to enjoy it while you can."
Pichu arced electricity between his paws and thought dryly:
*It sounds logical… if I didn't know exactly what condition you're in, I might even believe you.*
*Also—life's too short? Maybe spend it telling Pepper how you actually feel, genius.*
Still, thinking ahead to what was coming, Pichu relented.
"Alright then. Since you've invited me so many times, if I refused again, it might break your fragile little heart."
"Get lost…" Tony laughed, then added:
"Since you're coming, could you bring Mark V with you? I'll need it here."
Pichu blinked. "So that's it—you want me as your delivery guy."
"How can you call it that? And come on—the Mark V weighs about as much as a pebble to you," Tony teased.
"Yeah, yeah, I get it."
"Then I'll see you in New York."
***
After ending the call, Pichu shut down the generator, hopped onto his bed, wrapped himself in the small blanket Pepper had bought for him, and fell soundly asleep.
Even though he could stay awake for more than two weeks without feeling tired, Pichu still made a point of sleeping now and then. After all—what's life without the luxury of doing nothing?
***
**Next morning**
The sun blazed in a clear blue sky, with a light breeze drifting in from the coast.
Pichu discharged a gentle wave of electricity over his fur for a quick self-clean, then slipped on his translator and headed to the underground garage.
Spotting the compact "suitcase armor" Mark V, Pichu activated *Electromagnetic Levitation*. He floated upward, hooked the Mark V's handle with his paw, and called out:
"J.A.R.V.I.S., open the garage tunnel."
**J.A.R.V.I.S.:** "Opening now, Mr. Pichu."
Carrying the Mark V—which was bigger than he was—Pichu rocketed out of the villa, soaring into the open air.
Once above 50 meters, he leaned into his power. In a burst of golden lightning, he streaked forward, breaking the sound barrier in an instant. But thanks to the stabilizing electromagnetic field from his skill, there was no thunderous sonic boom—just a shimmer of wind in his wake.
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