For Leo, the final fifty kilograms of raw Vibranium—the precious, energy-drenched cosmic rock—was nearing its end. After several more intense, twelve-hour meditation sessions in the silent darkness of his garage, the immense metal block had been completely consumed.
It didn't vanish; it was systematically broken down at a subatomic level, its released cosmic energy absorbed into the core of his being. Only two new, razor-sharp, custom-forged Vibranium metal spikes remained, seamlessly hidden and integrated into his combat harness, while the rest was now part of him.
Leo had pushed his power to the absolute limit. His Metal Control had climbed steeply over the past two months, finally crossing the triple-digit threshold, now sitting at a dizzying 113 points. His physical Strength, Speed, and Defense, having benefited from the constant flow of energy, had all settled firmly at 21 points, the peak of the human spectrum and the start of the enhanced zone.
Most crucially, the efficiency of his Iron Bones enhancement, which was the physical manifestation of the Vibranium's integration, had surged to 49% progress. He was halfway to achieving total physical invulnerability.
But despite this exponential growth in metallic power, he was hitting an unexpected, infuriating wall.
Leo had been obsessively experimenting with the technique of Astral Projection. He would sit for hours, mimicking the meditative posture described in the ancient Kamar-Taj texts, attempting to separate his conscious self from his physical body.
"I remember Doctor Strange mastered this technique in virtually no time at all, practically overnight after he borrowed the book," Leo muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I've had this book for over two months now, and I haven't had any progress at all. My mind is sharp, my focus is perfect, but the soul refuses to budge. Do I really have no talent for magic?"
He knew the legendary accounts. Doctor Strange, after borrowing the forbidden text Astral Projection, mastered the technique in less than a day. His spirit could roam, still studying the book even while his body was asleep. Even Kaecilius, the eventual traitor of the Ancient One, possessed this skill—both were individuals with undeniably exceptional, innate magical talent.
However, Leo recalled a crucial detail: by the time Strange mastered Astral Projection, he had already been training for six months in Kamar-Taj, mastering basic teleportation and energy manipulation. Furthermore, Strange's soul had already been ripped from his body by the Ancient One, yet even she couldn't permanently shake his conscious essence free.
Such a profound, spiritual skill, one that dealt with the very fabric of the soul and the dimensional matrix, was proving to be fundamentally different from manipulating the physical forces of the universe.
Leo was a creature of science and metallic destiny; magic, it seemed, required a spiritual spark he simply didn't possess. While occasionally, while sleeping, he would experience a fleeting, disorienting sensation of touching the edge of the soul plane, he couldn't replicate the conscious separation. He was stuck.
The outside world, oblivious to Leo's internal struggle between cosmic metal and spiritual magic, was buzzing with a renewed energy. New York had been bustling lately, perhaps due to the approaching New Year or the upcoming Stark Industries World Trade Center Expo.
The announcement of the event was already attracting a constant stream of technical talents and media from companies around the world.
Leo had been debating his next move. The logical step was to go directly to the African continent, find the impenetrable, hidden nation of Wakanda, and obtain an unlimited supply of Vibranium. But Uncle George, thoroughly enjoying his status as the owner of a new, gleaming BMW sedan, seemed to have taken up a new hobby: chauffeuring.
After school, he would invariably pick up Leo and, as an included bonus, pick up Peter Parker as well. George would then insist on taking the two children on a pointless but deeply appreciated trip—a drive around the city, a visit to a new museum, or simply a stop for ice cream.
Leo wouldn't refuse Uncle George's genuine care. Instead of wasting time on a premature, brute-force search for Wakanda—a nation that would be impossible to find without the right intel—he decided to be patient. He would wait for the Black Panther to reveal himself, or simply ask Nick Fury directly when the time was right.
Although the physical progress of his cultivation had slowed down over the past two months compared to the initial, explosive surge, it had been worthwhile. The time spent simply being with Uncle George and Aunt Jenny had been restorative, cementing his anchor in this normal life.
That evening, after a particularly wholesome family dinner, Leo claimed he needed a long walk to aid digestion. Instead, he flew directly to Tony's coastal mansion in Malibu.
Upon arriving at the hidden basement workshop, he found the newly renovated glass door—now equipped with a complex biometric and combination lock. Leo simply punched in the combination he'd mentally extracted from Tony's brain months ago and the door whooshed open.
Tony Stark was sitting in an armchair, scrolling through schematics, and sipping a violently green chlorophyll juice.
"Mr. Stark," Leo announced, stepping into the massive, echoing space. "Did you receive my small gift?"
Tony nearly choked on the juice, spinning around in his chair. "Leo! Good God, you walk in here like you own the place! And yes, that gift. I was going to call you. How in the hell did you find this metal? And where did you get it?"
Tony sprang up, pulling Leo over to the workbench where the quarter-block of raw Vibranium was displayed under bright lights. Tony patted Leo's shoulder, a rare moment of genuine, non-sarcastic excitement showing through his usual bravado.
"Leo, I've tried a battery of tests on this metal. It's a complete anomaly. Hard to work, yes, but the energy-absorbing property… it's insane. It reminds me exactly of a metal my father used to obsess over—something called Vibranium."
Leo grinned, crossing his arms. "That's because it is Vibranium."
Tony froze. He walked a circle around the block. "I'm not kidding you, kid. Vibranium is produced in extremely limited quantities worldwide. My dad—Howard Stark, perhaps you've heard of him—once bought a small quantity from its place of origin, Wakanda, decades ago. And then never again. Now, it only circulates on the highest tier of the black market. Do you even know how expensive this stuff is?"
"How expensive?" Leo asked, genuinely curious about the real-world value of his new, internal skeleton.
Tony leaned in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Roughly eleven thousand dollars per gram, give or take market fluctuations. You brought me fifty kilograms. That means if you wanted to buy this much, it would cost you around $550 million."
Leo inhaled sharply. While he had mentally estimated a high price, hearing the exact figure from a financial authority was still deeply shocking. But he shrugged and maintained his carefully cultivated, easy-going demeanor.
"That's right, it's Vibranium. I brought it back from Africa on purpose. See if it's useful to you, since you're so into rare metals."
Tony stared at the boy. "Are you sure you're not messing with me? A half-billion dollars worth of illegal, restricted material? The only other place I know of this is in a certain shield my father made. That's the only Vibranium resource anyone has ever seen outside of Africa. You're telling me you just... picked it up?"
"Where... where did you actually get this?" Tony's confusion was now genuine awe, quickly masked by his ego.
"Will this be useful to you?" Leo pressed, deliberately avoiding the source question. "There are tons of these where I found this. I'm planning to go check them out in a few days to see if they have more."
"No, no, no, not really useful to me," Tony immediately and habitually refused, waving a dismissive hand. "Although Vibranium has outstanding defensive capabilities and many properties that other metals don't have, it's still not within my scope of consideration. I prefer high-tensile alloys I can actually forge and control. This stuff resists everything."
However, he couldn't hide his fascination. He walked around the table again, running a gloved hand inches above the crystalline metal. "This is honestly the first time I've seen such a large, raw piece of it. I think I can definitely study it carefully—for science, obviously, not for armor."
Leo glanced over at the wall. He saw four transparent, sleek glass cabinets embedded in the concrete, displaying the evolution of the Iron Man armor: the bulky Mark I, the flight-ready Mark II, the refined Mark III, and the currently operational Mark IV.
"Mr. Stark, with all your new fame and the upcoming Expo, how's your Mark V project coming along?"
"Good question, Leo!" Tony snapped his fingers excitedly, suddenly eager to talk about his work. A shimmering, holographic projection immediately appeared in front of them, centered on a red and silver rectangular box resting on the ground.
"The Mark V, which I affectionately call the 'Security Briefcase,' is the ultimate field-deployed emergency suit," Tony boasted, puffing out his chest. "It's a further simplification I made during the refinement process of the Mark IV's assembly mechanism, designed so I can deal with any kind of emergency at any time, anywhere."
With a sharp command, the box-like structure in the hologram unfolded, revealing two built-in handles. At the same time, a virtual human figure appeared, demonstrating the rapid, complex assembly process of the Mark V.
"The box weighs no more than forty pounds, light enough for Pepper to carry," Tony explained. "But there's no way to equip it with heavy weaponry. It only has electric pulse cannons in both hands and a focused cluster cannon in the chest. It's strictly defense and quick offense."
Tony looked at the virtual Mark V standing in front of him, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "The system is pretty good, but there are limitations on flight altitude and speed due to the compact power source. And the armor itself is only a single layer, made of a lightweight titanium-steel alloy, so the defense is relatively low."
He shrugged off the critique quickly. "The Mark V is only for dealing with emergencies, anyway. I don't think I'll have many chances to wear it, but it's a good party trick."
Leo's Golden Eyes, however, weren't focused on the armor. They were focused on Tony's chest, specifically the area around the circular Arc Reactor. A faint, complex, black, spider-web-like pattern—a sure sign of metallic toxicity—was starting to extend outward from the glowing centerpiece.
The Palladium, the element powering the reactor, was slowly killing its inventor.
Leo cut straight through the enthusiasm, his voice low and serious. "What about the reactor in your chest? What's the palladium content now? And how is the toxicity spreading?"
The moment the question was raised, the atmosphere seemed to freeze instantly. Tony's theatrical grin dissolved into a blank mask of aversion. The easy-going inventor vanished, replaced by a defensive wall.
"Leo," Tony said sharply, snapping his fingers twice, making all the holographic projections in front of him disappear instantly. "I think your Aunt Jenny is already urging you to go home and sleep. It's late. Remember to watch my opening ceremony in a few days! It's going to be historic."
He deliberately avoided eye contact, turning back abruptly to his armchair.
"Jarvis, send me the process video from the last industrial expo. I want to see how my dad handled the crowds."
Leo looked at Tony, who now treated him as if he were completely invisible. He turned away, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He understood the psychological defense mechanism at play.
Tony's extremely confident, narcissistic personality made him crave absolute control over every facet of his life, especially his destiny. He believed in his genius, he believed he could solve any problem, and he had impossibly high expectations for his future.
However, once people with this level of ego realize that a failure—especially one as final as a slow, inevitable death—is truly unavoidable, they are very likely to suffer a catastrophic psychological break or even spiral into self-destructive behavior.
Tony wasn't afraid of dying in a blaze of glory; he was afraid of dying slowly and helplessly. And Leo had just pierced the only defense he had left: denial.