Marvel
Anthony Stark
224
The day had been a blur for Tony. Meetings, phone calls, reports—none of it had gone the way he wanted. It started with a near disaster during a mission, when his Mark 42 suit had almost failed him completely. Repulsors malfunctioned, thrusters didn’t fire, and it nearly cost him more than just a bruised ego. The suit had taken a beating in the field, and despite quick fixes, it was clear it needed serious attention.
By the time he got back to Stark Tower, Tony was exhausted, mentally drained, but he had one thing on his mind: the suit. The team had filled him in on the details of the mission, Pepper had warned him about pushing himself too hard, but the whole time, his mind kept returning to the suit and its flaws. He could feel the weight of it every time he thought about the next fight, the next test.
The workshop was quiet when he arrived, the familiar hum of machines and the low glow of work lights the only sounds. He walked straight to the Mark 42, the armor’s silver surface reflecting the harsh light of the room. The scratches and dents were visible, a reminder of the risks he’d taken, but the performance issues were what really bothered him. Tony had always prided himself on creating the best tech in the world, but the suit had failed him. And he couldn’t let that go.
Without wasting any time, Tony set to work, cracking open panels and checking the inner systems. The music in the background set the pace as he worked quickly, methodically, making repairs and upgrades as if it were second nature. He’d done this a hundred times before—replacing parts, recalibrating, making sure everything was in top condition. But tonight felt different. The quiet urgency in his movements was driven by the need for something more than just functionality—it was about proving to himself that he could keep up, that he could do better.
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