"Ferrofluid deformation…"
In Paul's eyes, countless streams of data surged like a river of stars, flowing without end.
He had found the soul of the "Transformers," the door to a whole new world, and he had just kicked it wide open.
The shackles of traditional mechanical structures were completely shattered, enveloping him in an unprecedented sense of freedom. If every component could become an independent electromagnetic unit, precisely controlled down to the micrometer through programming…
Then why did weapons have to be fixed to the frame?
A bolder, crazier idea crashed into his mind without warning.
It was like an entire nebula suddenly igniting in the dark expanse of the universe.
He swiftly pulled up the design schematic for "Sideswipe," his fingers a blur across the virtual keyboard. The fixed Vulcan cannons and energy gun modules originally designed for the shoulders and arms were deleted without a second thought.
In their place appeared six independent, spindle-shaped modules that resembled boomerangs.
Floating weapon platforms!
Or, to use a more common name—Funnels!
Powered by the Arc Reactor in Sideswipe's chest, macro-targeted by the main system, and then micromanaged using the ferrofluid control technology he had just conceived, they could achieve a full 360-degree, no-blind-spot attack!
This was the true combat style of a next-generation mecha!
"Now *this* is more like it!"
Paul's breathing grew heavy, his face flushed with an excited crimson. He felt less like he was designing a weapon and more like he was creating art—an art of slaughter that blended violence and aesthetics.
For the rest of the time, Paul was completely lost in his work.
Line after line of new code flowed from his fingertips, constructing the complex and ingenious weapon control system. One by one, component models were disassembled, reassembled, and optimized in the holographic projection.
On the other side of the garage, the harsh sounds of metal cutting and electric welding occasionally echoed from Tony's workstation, filled with the raw power of the industrial age.
But on Paul's side, there was only the soft glow of data streams and the faint tapping of the keyboard—quiet, yet brimming with the energy to overturn everything.
The night deepened.
When the final string of verification code was entered, Paul let out a long breath and slumped back into his chair, his eyelids as heavy as lead.
He was exhausted. The intense mental focus had drained nearly all of his energy.
His consciousness blurring, he slumped over the console and fell into a deep sleep.
An unknown amount of time passed before a white figure glided silently to his side.
It was the upgraded Baymax.
Soft blue light strips flowed across its smooth white shell, and a gentle "^_^" emoticon glowed quietly on its chest display.
It extended a soft, inflatable arm, its movements as gentle as if touching a priceless treasure, and carefully draped a thin blanket over Paul.
Then, it stood quietly to the side, a most loyal guardian, its blue light casting a zone of tranquility in the dark garage.
…
The next morning.
Paul was awakened by the gentle tone of JARVIS's voice.
"Mr. Paul, it is 7:00 AM. Your sleep time last night was three hours and twenty-one minutes, which is severely insufficient. It is recommended that…"
"I know, I know."
Paul stretched, his bones letting out a series of crisp pops. Though he hadn't slept much, his spirits were unusually high.
He glanced at the screen, at the nearly completed 3D design of "Sideswipe" and the six Funnels hovering around it. A tremendous sense of accomplishment surged in his chest.
Just one last step remained: collect the car's external data to finalize the design of its disguised form.
He whistled, walking cheerfully toward the center of the garage.
Tony's collection of sports cars was a dazzling sight, but Paul's eyes immediately locked onto a Lamborghini Aventador, its lines sleek and aggressive.
"JARVIS, scan the exterior data of this car. Set the precision to maximum."
"Of course, Mr. Paul."
Just as the infrared scanning lines began to cover the car's body, Tony Stark's signature, slightly boastful voice came from the other end of the garage.
"Hey, kid, stop playing with your toy cars and come see something *really* good!"
Paul turned his head. Tony was standing on a platform, his feet encased in a pair of silver metallic boots and his hands in gauntlets of the same material.
It was the flight component of the Mark II armor.
"Dad, you're not thinking of…" Paul's brow furrowed slightly.
"That's right!" Tony's face was alight with unrestrained pride. "Today marks a new chapter in the history of human flight! And I am the one writing it!"
Paul walked over, glancing at the two almost crude-looking thrusters on Tony's feet, then at the stabilizers on his hands.
"Have you run any simulations?"
"Simulations? My life doesn't need simulations," Tony said, lifting his chin.
"What about metal fatigue and high-altitude pressure resistance?"
"Stark Industries' top-of-the-line alloy. Trust me."
"Well… you've at least debugged the flight control system's algorithm, right? What if you lose control?" Paul made one last effort.
Tony waved his hand impatiently. "JARVIS will handle everything. Stop nagging like a mother hen. You just need to get your camera ready and record your old man's glorious and great moment."
Seeing Tony's overconfidence, completely deaf to any advice, Paul silently took two steps back.
He gave up.
Reasoning with a hyped-up Tony Stark was harder than prying his wallet open.
He turned to an empty corner of the room and spoke in a perfectly calm tone.
"JARVIS."
"At your service, Mr. Paul."
"Wake up Baymax. Have him bring the largest comprehensive medical kit and a military-grade foam fire extinguisher. Have him stand by here."
"…Of course, Mr. Paul." A flicker of almost imperceptible hesitation seemed to enter JARVIS's voice.
Tony didn't notice his son's "little maneuver." He was completely absorbed in the fantasy of conquering the skies.
He cleared his throat and shouted at the ceiling, "Engage thrusters, ten percent power!"
*VMMMM—*
Pale blue flames shot out from the thrusters beneath his boots, generating a powerful upward force.
Tony's feet abruptly left the ground!
"It works! I'm flying!"
He shouted in excitement, trying to balance his body. But he had clearly overestimated his coordination and underestimated the wildness of his creation.
His body wobbled in mid-air like a drunkard.
"Increase power! Twenty percent!"
He seemed to think that if he just flew high enough, he could stabilize.
*WHOOSH!*
The thruster power suddenly surged. Tony shot upwards like an out-of-control cannonball, heading straight for the ceiling!
"Oh, shit!"
*CRASH!!*
An ear-splitting bang echoed through the garage.
Tony's head made intimate contact with the ceiling, sending down a shower of dust and concrete fragments.
Before anyone could react, he lost all thrust and began to freefall.
Paul instinctively covered his eyes, but he couldn't resist peeking through his fingers.
Not far away, Baymax, who had just been summoned by JARVIS and was waddling over with a giant medical kit, also stopped. A large, round question mark slowly materialized on its chest screen.
*BAM—!!*
Another loud crash, accompanied by the grating screech of twisting metal and shattering glass.
Tony Stark, the great genius inventor, billionaire, and playboy, landed in an extremely undignified, spread-eagled pose, crashing heavily onto his beloved classic Ford hot rod.
The entire roof of the car caved in, its windows shattering across the floor.
The garage was plunged into a dead silence.
In the settling dust, Tony lay sprawled across his ruined car, the thrusters on his hands and feet still smoking and emitting a sizzling sound.
Paul slowly lowered the hand covering his face, the corners of his mouth twitching uncontrollably upwards. He desperately tried to disguise his laughter with a series of coughs.
He pulled out his phone, aimed it at the historic scene, and decisively pressed the shutter button.
"Dad, don't move. I'm taking a picture to commemorate the moment."
"A million dollars a pop. Not too expensive, right?"