"Let me clarify—you can fly without armor, can't you?" Tony's visor reflected swirling clouds. "If your meat-suit outpaces my Mark II, does that count as cheating?"
Leon hovered barehanded at 30,000 feet, scarf flapping in the jetstream. "Would I cheat?"
"You drugged me with tranquilizers!"
"Fine." Leon's armor disassembled midair, plates locking into a drone configuration. "JARVIS! Take the wheel."
Tony gaped as the cobalt armor autonomously stabilized. "Remote piloting? That's—"
"—genius?" Leon landed on a cumulus cloud, bioluminescent sneakers glowing. "Admit it, old man. My baby's prettier."
"Pfft. I considered AI control in '98!" Tony's thrusters flared. "JARVIS! Start the damn countdown!"
Three. Two. One.
Twin comets scorched the stratosphere—crimson versus cobalt. Leon watched from his cloud perch, muttering: "Snail racing would be faster."
Biological forcefields ignited around him. With a sonic boom, he became a reverse meteorite punching through cloud layers.
...
"WOOOOO!" Tony corkscrewed through cirrus formations, drunk on velocity. "This! This is humanity's destiny!"
"Sir," JARVIS interrupted his euphoria, "Leon's armor leads by 0.7 kilometers."
"Impossible!" Tony craned his neck. "Override safety protocols! Full thrust!"
Warning: Atmospheric icing imminent.
"Burn through it!" Tony snarled. Frost crawled across his faceplate.
Twenty seconds later
The Mark II became a frozen torpedo. Tony's scream Doppler-shifted earthward: "LEEEOOOON—!"
Thwump.
Leon caught the ice-encased armor like a football. "Told you about the gold alloy's thermal conductivity."
Tony's chattering teeth nearly bit through his tongue. "S-s-smug b-b-bastard..."
Their descent revealed JARVIS-piloted cobalt armor orbiting calmly. "Post-flight analysis complete," the AI droned. "Leon's model exhibits 47% superior—"
"Enough!" Tony stomped toward the garage, icicles shedding from his joints. "You win the stupid race."
Leon materialized beside him, munching cosmic-ray-roasted popcorn. "But you won something better."
Tony paused mid-sulk. "Explain. Now."
"Any MIT professor could refine your designs." Leon tapped his temple. "But creating the Arc Reactor? Forging the first armor in a cave? That's genius."
Tony's scowl softened.
"Twenty years," Leon pressed. "That's how long the world would've waited without you."
"Fifteen," Tony corrected automatically.
"See? Still innovating." Leon tossed him a popcorn kernel. "Now about that gold plating..."
Later
Pepper found them arguing over holographic schematics, floor littered with Thai takeout containers.
"—nanotech self-repair needs vibranium substrate!"
"Or we could," Leon yawned, "just not crash into glaciers?"
Tony hurled a spring roll. "You're banned from my lab!"
"Your lab?" Leon dodged. "JARVIS, play security footage from Tuesday."
Projected footage showed Tony faceplanting into a drone swarm.
"Et tu, JARVIS?" Tony clutched his chest.
Pepper sighed. "Nick Fury's on line two. Something about... space insurance?"
As the trio burst into laughter, three armors watched silently—one thawing, one pristine, and Leon's prototype quietly upgrading itself in the corner.