A snap of Tony Stark's fingers broke the frozen tension in the air.
He made no further attempt to lecture Paul with his "I'm your father" attitude. Instead, he turned and walked toward the other end of the garage, where a massive dust cloth concealed a crude and menacing silhouette.
"Come here."
The arrogance in Tony's voice was gone, replaced by a hoarse, heavy tone.
Paul raised an eyebrow and followed.
As Tony ripped the dust cloth away, an ugly, cumbersome metal creation, brimming with a violent aesthetic, was revealed to Paul.
Its body was covered in welding scars and exposed rivets. The joint design was simple and crude. The gaping hole in its chest, where the Arc Reactor should have been, looked like a gruesome wound.
This was the first suit. The iron coffin that had clawed its way out of hell.
"It doesn't have a name," Tony said, his hand gently caressing the rough metal shell, his eyes complex. "It only has a designation, Mark I. But I prefer to call it… Paul One."
Paul was stunned.
"This thing… is named after me?"
"Yeah." A pained smile tugged at the corner of Tony's mouth. "After they stripped me of that suit you gave me, Yinsen and I, in a cave, hammered this big guy together from a pile of scrap metal. I kept thinking, if my genius son were here, he'd definitely do a ten-thousand-times-better job."
He brought up a holographic display, projecting the design schematics for the Paul One and the surveillance footage from the cave into the air.
The primitive environment, the desperate situation, the countless failed attempts, and the final roar as he broke through the door.
Tony didn't elaborate on the hardships, but the raw images were more impactful than any words.
Paul stared at the hastily drawn schematics, at Tony and Yinsen hammering away under the dim light, and his heart clenched unexpectedly.
He could understand this armor.
It wasn't perfect; in fact, it was riddled with flaws. The power system was crude, the energy conversion efficiency was low, and the joint actuators were a testament to primitive ingenuity.
But… it worked.
It was the culmination of all the wisdom and will to survive that a genius could muster in such a desperate situation.
In that moment, Paul suddenly found a sliver of understanding for Tony's almost insane "drone plan."
It wasn't arrogance. It was fear.
It was the extreme fear of losing control that came after cheating death, and the obsession to hold everything firmly in his own hands.
"So, this is why you started the 'Sons of Steel' project?" Paul's voice had calmed. "To use a bunch of emotionless tin cans to replace humans on the battlefield, so you don't have to watch people die for you again?"
"I just want to end it all." Tony switched off the hologram and turned, his gaze burning as he looked at Paul.
Silence once again fell over the garage.
After a long moment, Paul sighed. He walked a circle around the Paul One, tapping a finger against it, which produced a dull thud.
"First of all, the name has to change," Paul said with a look of disgust. "'Sons of Steel'? Incredibly tacky. It sounds like some angsty teenager desperate to prove himself, not a world-changing superhero."
"Oh?" Tony raised an eyebrow. "Then in our boy genius's opinion, what should it be called?"
"Iron Man," Paul said without hesitation. "Simple, catchy, and distinctive. You hear it, and you know it's a man in an iron suit. Way better than 'Sons of Steel,' which sounds like some kind of family business."
Tony mulled over the name, his eyes growing brighter.
"Iron Man…" he murmured, an uncontrollable grin spreading across his face. "Not bad. Has a certain ring to it. And it sounds… valuable."
"Naturally." Paul crossed his arms, his chin lifting slightly. "A good IP starts with a good name. So, the 'Iron Man' project, I'm in."
Seeing the smug, "I knew you could handle it" look on Tony's face, Paul immediately threw cold water on him.
"But, I have one condition."
"Name it."
"You can build the drones, but I design the core AI's moral code and underlying logic. And, you don't interfere with my research."
With that, Paul walked back to his workstation and swiped a finger across the console screen.
A new holographic projection unfolded before him.
It was a sleek, silver sports car, its lines flowing like a work of art, radiating a sense of futuristic technology.
"A Lamborghini concept car? Good taste, but what are you planning to do? Build one to pick up girls?" Tony leaned in for a look, a hint of disdain in his voice.
"Of course not."
Paul's finger tapped lightly in the air.
"—Transform!"
With the crisp command, the holographic car instantly began to deconstruct and reassemble!
The doors flipped upward, becoming shoulder pauldrons; the wheels retracted, forming joints; the hood and chassis stretched and folded, constructing a powerful torso and limbs…
In a matter of seconds, the sports car had become a combat robot nearly three meters tall, wielding an ion cannon, exuding a sense of power and science fiction.
Its silver finish, its cool design, its sheer visual impact seemed to draw all the light in the garage toward it.
Tony Stark, the planet's foremost inventor, stood with his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide as saucers, his brain momentarily short-circuiting.
"This… This is…"
"My personal project." A look of pride and showmanship, appropriate for his age, finally appeared on Paul's face. "I call it, the 'Transformers Project.' The first prototype is codenamed 'Sideswipe.'"
"Trans… formers?" Tony felt his worldview had just been shaken to its core.
If his "Iron Man" was about a human piloting a machine…
Then Paul's "Transformer" was the machine itself!
These were concepts from two completely different dimensions!
A potent mix of intense competitiveness and the subtle annoyance of being outdone by his own son surged through Tony.
"Ha, interesting." Tony forced his shocked expression away, resuming his cavalier demeanor. He walked up to the hologram of "Sideswipe" and began to critique it pretentiously. "Creative idea, but it's too big. The flexibility must be terrible. And this transformation structure… too complex. One hit from a cannon in a real battle and it would get stuck, unable to transform back. It's a… big toy, at best."
"Still better than someone who has to stuff himself into a tin can just to fly," Paul retorted without mercy. "My 'Sideswipe' can be driven as a sports car for daily use, and it can fight when needed. It's called utility, you get it?"
"Tin can?" Tony's eye twitched. "That's called a suit of armor! Invincible armor!"
"Alright, alright, stop arguing." Paul waved his hand dismissively. "Let's just have a little competition. We'll see whether your 'Iron Man' gets into the sky first, or my 'Sideswipe' hits the road."
"What's the wager?" Tony's competitive spirit was fully ignited.
"Whoever loses has to wash Pepper's car for a month," Paul said with a cunning smile.
"Deal!"
The father and son's gazes locked in mid-air, sparking and crackling.
The previously heavy atmosphere was instantly replaced by a competitive tension thick with the smell of gunpowder.
For the rest of the time, the entire garage entered a strange state of being.
Tony and Paul, the most brilliant father-son duo in the world, worked side-by-side, refining the designs for the Iron Man Mark II.
Tony's vast experience and boundless imagination perfectly complemented Paul's futuristic knowledge and rigorous logic.
"We can add flight stabilizers to the gauntlets, but the power output must be independent, not sharing a channel with the main thrusters."
"The energy density of the graphene batteries is sufficient, but we need a brand-new cooling solution. I suggest liquid nitrogen phase-change cooling."
"The helmet's HUD interface is hideous. This aesthetic is straight out of the last century. Let me handle it. I guarantee I'll give you a UI with the quality of a video game."
Blue streams of data flowed rapidly between them as complex schematics were created, modified, and optimized.
JARVIS faithfully recorded every piece of data, and the entire garage was immersed in an atmosphere of efficient, feverish creation.
Just as they were discussing the suit's alloy composition, Tony's movements suddenly paused.
He glanced furtively toward the garage entrance, a flicker of imperceptible vigilance in the depths of his eyes.
"JARVIS."
His voice was a low whisper, almost inaudible to anyone but himself.
"At your service, sir."
"Create a new, physically isolated server codenamed 'Vault.' Highest encryption clearance. Transfer all data related to the 'Iron Man Project,' including all design drafts and simulation data from the past few days."
"Understood, sir. Data transfer is in progress," JARVIS replied, his tone as calm as ever.
Paul was engrossed in calculating a new material formula, but he still keenly caught Tony's momentary abnormality.
He didn't turn around or ask any questions.
He simply filed the observation away in his mind.
It seemed this house wasn't as safe as it appeared on the surface.
Or perhaps, the name Tony Stark itself was synonymous with never-ending trouble.
On the holographic screen, the data transfer progress bar sped forward, finally displaying .
In the garage, the creative frenzy continued.
But in the air, an unseen shadow had quietly fallen over the father and son.
The Pandora's Box they had opened with their own hands, the one named "Iron Man," was now unleashing its unpredictable future upon the world.