"Your taste is still as pedestrian as ever," Henry muttered, pouting.
"The party's fine, but first, I need a double cheeseburger. Extra large! Double pickles and bacon. I swear I could eat a whole cow right now."
Perhaps after spending so much time with Tony, Henry had developed a strange love for cheeseburgers.
"A burger? Again?" Tony's voice dripped with disdain.
"Henry, my dear brother, can you have standards? We just got back from that hellhole, and we should be popping open a bottle of red wine, having a grand feast prepared by a chef to cleanse our taste buds from the horrors of Middle Eastern cuisine! Not devouring high-calorie junk food!"
"I want a burger," Henry said stubbornly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"And it has to be the one next to Randy's Donuts on the corner. Their patties are the juiciest."
"Fine, fine… you win," Tony sighed, knowing there were some things Henry simply wouldn't budge on.
"Then burgers it is. But we go to my favorite place—the fries are fresh-cut. After that, we throw the party! This is my last concession as your elder brother."
"Deal."
The brothers' bickering echoed through the skies, blending with the sonic booms of their flight.
The journey home, once long and tedious, now passed quickly in a haze of teasing and rivalry.
They were like kids returning from summer camp, chatting about life back home.
"Honestly, that black armor of yours looks cooler than my silver one, but it's so impractical," Tony flew circles around Henry, inspecting the suit.
"No external ports—want to add missiles or laser cannons? Forget it. And no helmet… what if a bird drops something on you? Your battleface would be ruined."
Tony was supremely confident about his own taste.
"First, I don't need flashy weapons—my fists are enough," Henry said with a look that said, you wouldn't understand.
"Second, no bird could ever catch me at my speed. And most importantly, this face is God's masterpiece. Cover it with a helmet? That's sacrilege."
"Delusional," Tony muttered quietly over comms.
"It's a fact," Henry shot back bluntly.
Tony had no argument—despite being a Stark, he didn't understand why his brother looked so different. If compared, Tony was the uncle type, while Henry… well, let's just say stats are not comparable.
And so they flew, teasing each other from day to night, and night to dawn.
Soon, the familiar skyline of Los Angeles appeared on the horizon. Both brothers perked up.
"Finally! The great billionaire Tony Stark is back!" Tony cheered, accelerating past Henry.
"Hey! Race to the burger joint! Last one pays!"
"Childish," Henry said, though his body ignored the words, transforming into a streak of black lightning and chasing after him.
Silver and black streaks tore through the LA sky, weaving between skyscrapers and screaming past plazas, leaving onlookers below in awe and terror.
J.A.R.V.I.S.: Warning, Mr. Stark. Your actions violate multiple FAA regulations and may cause major traffic disruptions…
J.A.R.V.I.S.: Warning, Mr. Henry. Commercial flight detected ahead. Immediate evasive action recommended…
The AI's gentle warnings echoed through their comms, but neither paid attention.
Finally, they arrived almost simultaneously at the unassuming burger joint.
With two heavy thuds, they landed in the parking lot like meteors, leaving shallow craters that sent customers and passersby scattering.
"I win!" Tony declared, standing first from his crater.
"I landed first," Henry countered, brushing dust off his armor.
Ignoring the shocked and curious gazes—and the approaching sirens—they strode into the burger joint.
The patrons and staff were frozen.
A man in silver high-tech armor, and another in black with a cape—acting as if the fast-food joint were their personal clubhouse.
"Gentlemen, may I take your order?" a brave server stammered forward.
Tony lifted his faceplate, seated himself by a window, and said boldly, "One double cheeseburger, please."
"Same for me," Henry added across the table. "Double pickles and bacon, thanks."
While they waited, a black Audi skidded into the parking lot with perfect drift precision.
Pepper and Happy leapt out, having been alerted by J.A.R.V.I.S. half an hour earlier.
Pepper's eyes lit up as she saw the brothers safe, about to dig in. A storm of relief, anger, worry, and exasperation washed over her.
"Tony! Henry!" she rushed to the table, voice trembling with emotion.
"You… you two idiots! Do you even know…"
"Pepper, calm down," Tony mumbled through a mouthful of burger.
"We'll talk after this. I swear, this is the best burger I've ever eaten."
Despite his nonchalance, Tony silently exhaled, acknowledging how much Pepper had probably suffered in their absence.
Henry took a bite as well, smiling at Pepper.
"Afternoon, Pepper. Nice new hairstyle."
Looking at these two carefree maniacs, Pepper felt her week's worth of worry and frustration dissipate like a punch hitting cotton.
She drew a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm.
"You must come back with me. Now. Immediately!" she said, voice leaving no room for argument.
"The press and police are already outside. Do you want to make tomorrow's headlines?"
"Headlines? I do that every day. Got used to it," Tony replied casually, taking another bite.
"But since you're here, perfect timing. Arrange a press conference—one hour from now. I have some things I want to share with all my friends around the world."
"A press conference?" Pepper froze.
Tony's first act upon returning wasn't going home—it was holding a press conference?!
"Exactly."
Tony finished the last bite, belched contentedly, wiped his mouth, and approached Pepper.
"Some games must end," he said quietly.
"And some new games… must begin."
His eyes reflected both relief and turmoil, but ultimately, determination.
He knew what his choice would entail—but he chose to act anyway.
It was his way of making amends—to them, and to himself.