Tony Stark began to read from the script Pepper had prepared, his voice resonating through the hall. The points were standard corporate fare, and he delivered them with a practiced ease. The reporters in the audience listened, but none were surprised; they had already pieced together most of this information from their own sources. Pepper's manuscript, however, made no mention of giant fighting robots, so after finishing, Tony casually tucked the papers into his pocket.
He then pulled out the notes provided by Coulson, a frown creasing his brow as he read from them.
"The second item on the agenda is regarding the robots that caused a bit of a ruckus in Manhattan the other day," he began, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "This official statement says that these robots were advanced government prototypes, stolen by terrorists with the intent to... subvert the world. I find this rather ridiculous. How could our government possibly possess robotics that advanced?! Let me be clear, this was handed to me by an agent from a certain secret organization. I won't bore you with their name; it's long and tedious, sounds like a White House subcommittee report, and I'm sure none of you are interested anyway."
A wave of laughter rippled through the press corps. In the audience, Agent Coulson's expression soured. He had a sinking feeling this was about to go completely off the rails.
Tony continued, "We'll circle back to that later. First, let me clarify something about my identity. Some people have been saying I was seen wearing steel armor, fighting robots, calling me some kind of... 'Iron Man.' Now, everyone here knows I'm a playboy. A playboy in a suit of armor, fighting for the little guy? It just doesn't sound right, does it?"
The frantic clicking of cameras slowed as every reporter leaned in, waiting for his next words.
"The truth is," Tony paused for dramatic effect, "I am Iron Man."
As he spoke, he made a subtle gesture with his left hand. Jarvis, hovering discreetly nearby, shot forward. Panels of red and gold armor flew through the air, assembling around Tony with a series of satisfying clicks and whirs. The reporters were stunned into silence for a second before their cameras erupted in a blinding storm of flashes, the light glinting off Tony's newly armored form.
"Mr. Stark...!", "Mr. Stark...!" The questions began again, a chaotic roar of frantic voices. A playboy billionaire revealing himself as a superhero was a story just as massive as the alien invasion itself.
Coulson covered his face with his hand. As he feared, Stark had just blown everything up. But at least, mercifully, he hadn't mentioned the Autobots or Decepticons.
"Everyone, please, quiet down for a moment," the metallic voice of Iron Man boomed. "I'm going to introduce you to a friend who can explain the situation much better than I can. If you'll all look to your right!"
"Optimus Prime, please come to the stage!"
Coulson felt a fresh wave of despair wash over him. The worst was, in fact, happening.
The red and blue semi-truck parked beside the stage began to move. With a symphony of grinding gears and shifting metal, it unfolded, rising to its full, towering height. Optimus Prime stood before the press.
"Hello," his deep, resonant voice filled the hall. "I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots."
The reporters were initially terrified, instinctively stumbling back from the colossal mechanical being. But soon, a sharp-eyed journalist recognized him. "Wait... he looks like the robot who was with Tony Stark on the Brooklyn Bridge!"
With that reminder, others who had done their homework also recognized the Autobot leader as the one who had fought back against the city's destroyers. The reporters, sensing an even bigger story, surged forward, their fear replaced by insatiable curiosity.
A burly reporter pushed his way to the front. "Mr. Big Robot—your name is Optimus Prime, right? Are you a new weapon developed by the military?"
Optimus Prime looked down at the sea of human faces, his expression serious. "No," he replied, his magnetic voice commanding their attention. "We Autobots are an intelligent, sentient race, just as you humans are. The only difference is that you were born on Earth, while we were born on Cybertron. Cybertron is our home world."
Before the reporters could fully process this, another journalist shouted a question. "Mr. Optimus Prime, if you are aliens, were the robots that destroyed the city also aliens? Why were they attacking us? Are they also from Cybertron?"
Optimus Prime answered calmly, "They are the Decepticons. A faction from Cybertron consumed by a lust for war and conquest. We detected their presence on Earth and came here to help you through this crisis."
"Then, Mr. Optimus Prime, why do you Cybertronians—" a reporter started to ask, but Tony interrupted, drawing all eyes back to him.
"Alright, gentlemen, let's not forget today's protagonist. This is my press conference. For more information, please direct your inquiries to the relevant department at Stark Industries. I, Tony Stark, will now be personally responsible for receiving our extraterrestrial guests."
The world was stunned. Even the highest echelons of government, who had been briefed on the existence of the Autobots and Decepticons, were shocked that Tony Stark had just revealed everything to the public. Aliens were real, and they were silicon-based lifeforms, a discovery that upended everything humanity thought it knew.
Tony Stark himself became the center of global attention. He was a confirmed superhero, and now, the official liaison between humanity and an alien race. His status, and that of his company, skyrocketed. Stark Industries' stock soared, quickly shattering its all-time highs with no sign of slowing down.
In the midst of this global frenzy, Tony Stark, accompanied by Pepper Potts and Jarvis, arrived at the exclusive Unique Ballroom. He was there to fulfill a promise made to its enigmatic owner—the payment for his rescue from Afghanistan. He hadn't brought his bodyguard, Happy Hogan; Tony felt he no longer needed one. With Jarvis nearby, he could suit up at a moment's notice. If a threat was too much for Iron Man, Happy would be of little use. So, Happy was now happily employed as his driver.
As they reached the entrance, Tony was, as expected, stopped. Pepper had warned him that entry required wearing a specific monocle, but the arrogant billionaire had no intention of following someone else's rules.
Two imposing guards at the door extended their arms, blocking his path. Tony raised an eyebrow and took a slight step back to avoid their touch.
"I have a certain reputation to maintain," he said coolly. "Don't you know who I am? I'm here to discuss a business partnership with your boss." He took off his designer sunglasses, tucking them into his breast pocket and revealing his world-famous face.
One of the guards adjusted the monocle on his own eye, glanced at his companion, then covered his mouth with one hand as his shoulders began to shake with silent laughter. He pointed a thumb at Tony, his expression a mask of derision. The other guard simply pinched his own monocle, folded his arms across his chest, and watched the scene unfold with an amused smirk.
Tony felt a hot flush of anger. He was being mocked. Pepper started to step forward to intervene, but Tony held up a hand to stop her. "Pepper, stay out of this. There is no place on Earth that I, Tony Stark, cannot enter. Jarvis, we're going in."
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