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The nights over the Arctic Ocean in sumr are short.

Only three hours after the party, the sea of clouds hiding the fortress was already glowing in the morning sun.

When Malrick activated his enhanced vision and flew toward the sunlight pouring through the window, he expected to see Tony on the deck, dual cluster cannons glowing, facing off against a squad of Widow agents.

What he saw instead, however, was... baffling.

"What the hell?" Malrick muttered, speeding up.

On the deck, Tony was surrounded by seven or eight Widow agents. Another thirty or so won stood nearby, watching him and whispering among themselves.

They were clearly hungover—flushed cheeks, playful gestures, occasionally comparing sizes with their hands like they were gossiping about last night.

But the strangest part?

Tony himself.

He was in his Mark III armor—not airborne, not using his weapons. Instead, he had his hands crossed over his lower abdon, stepping right with his left foot, then left with his right foot in a weird little sway.

It was sohow more dramatic than the Victoria's Secret fashion show Malrick had watched a few years ago.

"Tony, there's clearly no threat here. Why the ergency call?" Malrick's expression twisted.

"And what is he doing? Is this… a catwalk? Seriously?"

Tony was in a heated argunt with the Widow agents.

His faceplate slid open, revealing an expression of frustrated embarrassnt.

"I told you—your new boss and I are brothers, okay? Brothers!" he insisted.

"I'm his brother! If you don't let in, I'll transfer you to be Pepper's secretary!"

The agent facing him leaned back casually, gun holstered, arms folded.

She looked conflicted. "Mr. Stark, I can't let you in without Superman's permission."

"We've already contacted him through the AI. You'll probably get a response soon. Just hang tight."

She even started chatting casually. "The Stark Group pays well. I haven't gotten my first paycheck yet, but I heard the beaches in L.A. are beautiful…"

"You're seriously talking about salary right now?" Tony snapped. "Nicole Parsons, if you let in, I'll give you a monthly salary of a hundred grand!"

"Sorry, no. And my na isn't Nicole Parsons. It's Mary…"

"That's the na of the female agent from The Bourne Supremacy. Tony just gave you a nickna," Malrick said, finally stepping forward from the sidelines.

He landed and patted Mary on the shoulder.

"Well done. I didn't invite you all to the party for nothing. Go ahead and let our Uncle Tony through."

Mary and the Widows finally stepped aside, laughing.

"Fine, but you better not ghost us at the next party."

The previous night's drinking had made them more comfortable around Malrick. Their behavior was more relaxed, but the respect in their eyes hadn't faded—it had deepened.

"Next ti, I'll make sure to get you all drunk before I disappear," Malrick said with a grin. Then he turned and spread his arms. "Tony! How did you even find this place? You look like—"

"Don't even!" Tony shoved him aside. His face was flushed, like he'd been holding his breath underwater for minutes.

"JARVIS, guide in! Full propulsion, now!"

All thrusters on the Mark III ignited, launching Tony inside the fortress like a human rocket.

Natasha, who had just stepped out, barely avoided a head-on collision and cursed as she leapt aside.

Malrick stood still, blinking. Then he finished his earlier sentence.

"—like a drowning frog."

The girls all looked at one another and nodded, laughing in agreent.

"Is that your brother, Tony Stark? What's wrong with him?" Natasha asked, dusting herself off.

Malrick shrugged. "No idea. JARVIS, what's his status? Wait… is he in the bathroom?"

He glanced through the walls with his x-ray vision.

Tony was out of the armor, fumbling with the systems, and letting out a long, exhausted sigh.

Malrick raised an eyebrow. "JARVIS, how long was Tony in transit?"

"Three hours. Mr. Stark has been extrely busy today and hasn't had ti to… address his physiological needs."

Malrick burst out laughing. "So he couldn't hold it anymore! That explains the weird twitchy walk."

The girls on the deck finally understood why Tony had been acting so strangely—and laughter erupted around them.

Everyone suddenly felt a little closer to the infamous Stark brothers.

"I'll go see what he wants. You guys get back to work," Malrick said, flying off into the fortress.

---

Tony erged from the bathroom looking like he wanted to disappear.

"Tony," Malrick smirked, leaning against the wall, "still think the fluid circulation system is gross?"

Tony froze, avoiding eye contact.

After a beat, he muttered, "Sotis… function matters more than aesthetics."

"Oh? Not gross anymore?" Malrick pressed, tapping his forehead. "Because I rember soone saying—"

"Alright, alright! You were right," Tony interrupted quickly. "The armor needs a liquid circulation system."

He grabbed Malrick and changed the subject. "Anyway, I'll upgrade the rest later. Show around your little fairy tale fortress already."

Tony had officially surrendered.

Malrick smirked, chalking up another win.

"Fine, co on. How did you even find , though?"

"JARVIS said so girl ran off with my brother. I was worried you'd get scamd or kidnapped, so I flew over to rescue you."

Tony spread his arms dramatically. "Touching, right?"

"But then that sa brother humiliated in front of an entire strike force. A bit harsh, don't you think?"

Malrick laughed. "You literally got hit in the knee by your own boorang. And you're the one who swore you'd never use a fluid circulation system."

"Also, you expect to believe that fairytale? You just ca here to snoop."

Tony shrugged. "JARVIS said so little princess built a giant magic castle. I had to see it for myself."

"JARVIS told you? Huh. I didn't tell him to keep it secret."

Malrick led him down the corridor. "Co on. I'll show you what this place can do. Also, this is your early 40th birthday gift."

They moved from the upper command deck down to the engine room at the base of the fortress.

Tony was practically vibrating with excitent, analyzing everything out loud.

"Invisible coating, radar-absorbing materials, optical stealth… This is top-tier. No wonder—it's old superpower tech."

He paused beside one of the fighter bays. "Check out this engine. Pretty good for its ti. Still, about twenty years behind my suits."

---

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