"Sir," Jarvis spoke again, this time with a clear tone of dissuasion.
"The Mark II was not designed with an anti-freezing system for high-altitude, low-temperature environments, nor does it have sufficient life support mechanisms. Based on current design parameters, the safe flight altitude limit is approximately 20,000 feet. Continuing to climb may result in—"
"May result in the need for iterative updates." Tony interrupted him. "That is the very point of flight testing, isn't it?"
He looked toward Mavuika. "Besides, isn't Mavuika here with me?"
Mavuika nodded, offering no dissuasion.
He knew Tony's personality; he could not be persuaded by reasons like 'it hasn't been tested yet.'
"I will catch you," he said.
Tony grinned, then the thrusters under his feet spewed blue-white flames again, and his body shot straight upward.
The altimeter numbers jumped rapidly: 8,000 meters, 9,000 meters, 10,000 meters, 11,000 meters...
He punched through the clouds, leaving a circular hole behind. Moonlight poured down through the opening like a spotlight on a stage.
The lights of Los Angeles below began to blur, blocked by an increasingly thick sea of clouds.
Above, the stars grew brighter and denser; some even began to twinkle, a signal that the atmosphere was thinning and starlight was no longer being refracted evenly.
12,000 meters.
The vibration frequency of the Iron Man Suit changed from a high-frequency roar to a low-frequency shudder.
Tony saw frost beginning to condense on his arms—not seeping in from the outside, but precipitating directly from the metal surface.
The temperature sensor displayed: minus 56 degrees Celsius.
13,000 meters. The palm thrusters flickered once, then again.
Ice crystals accumulated around the nozzles, blocking the passage of the plasma flow.
The Iron Man Suit's computer system sounded frantic alarms: multiple thruster malfunctions, energy transmission efficiency dropped by 47%, joint hydraulic fluid solidified, sensors failed...
Tony gritted his teeth and continued upward.
14,000 meters. The foot thrusters emitted a sharp, mournful wail, and then—
They went out.
A sense of weightlessness instantly engulfed Tony, and he began to fall.
The weight of the Iron Man Suit became his curse, dragging him as he plummeted toward the Earth's surface 20,000 feet below.
The clouds sped away above him, and the stars turned back into blurry points of light. He flipped and tumbled like a runaway meteor—no trajectory, no direction, no control.
"Mavuika—" He instinctively called his name. The voice was shattered in the communication channel.
Then, a hand steadied his shoulder.
The force of that hand was precise and gentle, perfectly offsetting all the kinetic energy of his fall, yet he felt no impact.
Gold-red flames spread from that hand, like a warm tide washing over every inch of the Iron Man Suit.
The frost vaporized the moment it touched the flames, emitting hissing white mist.
The blocked thruster nozzles were melted, the Frozen hydraulic fluid began to flow again, and the extinguished sensors lit up one by one.
Tony floated in mid-air, still 18,000 meters from the ground, gasping for breath.
"Thanks, Mavuika," he said, his voice still trembling.
"You're welcome," Mavuika said, releasing his shoulder and continuing to fly beside him.
Tony took a few deep breaths, letting his racing heart slowly calm down.
He looked down at his Iron Man Suit. Melted water stains remained on the surface, and in some crevices, ice crystals were even beginning to re-form.
But the system had recovered; the thrusters were humming again, and attitude control had returned.
"Now I've figured out the priorities for the next iterative update," he said, trying to make his voice sound like a post-mission summary rather than someone shaken by fear.
"Anti-freezing, high-altitude atmospheric stability, redundant propulsion systems... The modification list for the Mark III is going to be a long one."
Mavuika nodded. "You also need to install deceleration devices. If you had truly started free-falling just now, although I would have caught you, you should also have the capability to land safely in the event of a system failure."
Tony was silent for a few seconds. He was right.
Placing all hope on others, even an existence like Mavuika, was not the path he should take.
He was Tony Stark; his Iron Man Suit should allow him to survive in any environment without needing rescue from anyone.
"I will install them," he said. "Retro-thrusters, a deceleration parachute, emergency ejection... The Mark III will have it."
"I believe in you," Mavuika said.
The two circled in the night sky for a while longer, and Tony lowered his altitude, returning to the airspace below 10,000 meters where the Iron Man Suit was most comfortable.
He performed a few rolls, tested sharp turns and sudden stops, and put the thrill of the moment behind him.
Mavuika continued to fly beside him, maintaining that distance—neither too close nor too far.
After circling a few more times, Tony finally felt exhausted.
Although the device on his chest hadn't malfunctioned, the long period of high-load flight still made him feel that familiar dull pain.
He checked the energy gauge; 37% remained. For a first test flight, this result was already quite good.
"Let's head back," he said. "Jarvis, return to the Villa."
"Very well, sir. The shortest route has been planned. Estimated arrival time is seven minutes."
Seven minutes.
Tony maneuvered the Iron Man Suit westward, flying toward the Malibu coastline, with Mavuika still following beside him.
"How are you feeling tonight?" Mavuika asked.
Tony thought for a moment.
"Great," he said, his tone sincere.
"I haven't felt this happy in a long time. You know, sometimes I wake up in the morning and think about having to face those boards of directors, shareholders, media, politicians, and hundreds of projects waiting for my signature just to keep running, and I really want to lock myself in the lab and never come out."
He paused.
"But tonight... tonight I feel like none of that matters."
"When I'm flying in the sky, those troubles become so small, like ants on the ground. They can argue, they can bicker, they can call me crazy, they can predict that Stark Industries will go bankrupt tomorrow, but so what? I'm in the sky now, they're on the ground, and I've seen scenery they can't see."
Mavuika listened quietly.
"This is perhaps what you've been feeling for thousands of years," Tony said. "When you fly high enough and see far enough, things that once felt like the end of the world don't seem so big anymore."
The Malibu coastline appeared ahead. Under the moonlight, the Pacific Ocean shimmered with silvery, scale-like luster. Tony's Villa sat on the edge of the cliff like a giant white seashell.
He lowered his altitude and aimed for the landing pad on the roof—though it wasn't actually a landing pad, just a viewing terrace usually used for sunbathing and drinking coffee.
But tonight, it would be the first landing point for the Iron Man Suit.
Tony adjusted his posture, lowered the power of the foot thrusters, and prepared to descend slowly.
But he overlooked two problems.
First, the Iron Man Suit weighed two tons. Second, the terrace was a standard reinforced concrete structure, and its design load-bearing capacity was far less than two tons.
The moment Tony touched the surface of the terrace, he heard an ominous "crack."
Then, the ground beneath his feet collapsed.
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