"Sir," Jarvis spoke again, this time with clear 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 devices. Based on current design parameters, the safe flight altitude limit is approximately 20,000 feet. Continuing to climb may lead to—"
"May lead to the need for iterative updates." Tony interrupted him, "That is the very point of flight testing, isn't it?"
He looked at Mavuika, "Besides, isn't Mavuika here with me?"
Mavuika nodded, not dissuading him.
He knew Tony's personality; it was impossible to convince him with reasons like "it hasn't been tested yet."
"I will catch you," he said.
Tony grinned, then the thrusters on his feet spewed blue-white flames again, and his body shot straight upward.
The altimeter digits jumped rapidly: 8,000 meters, 9,000 meters, 10,000 meters, 11,000 meters...
He pierced through the clouds, leaving a circular hole, and moonlight poured down through the hole like a spotlight on a stage.
Below, the lights of Los Angeles began to blur, blocked by an increasingly thick sea of clouds.
Above, the stars became brighter and denser, and some even began to twinkle—a signal that the atmosphere was thinning and starlight was no longer being refracted uniformly.
12,000 meters.
The vibration frequency of the Iron Man Suit changed, from a high-frequency roar to a low-frequency tremble.
Tony saw frost beginning to form on his arms; it wasn't 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 repulsors flickered once, then flickered again.
Ice crystals accumulated around the nozzles, blocking the plasma flow channel.
The Iron Man Suit's computer system sounded alarms frantically: multiple thruster failures, energy transmission efficiency dropped by 47%, joint hydraulic oil solidified, sensors failed...
Tony gritted his teeth and continued upward.
14,000 meters, the foot thrusters let out a sharp 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 rushed toward the Earth's surface 20,000 feet below.
The clouds sped away above him, the stars turned back into blurry points of light, and he flipped and tumbled like an out-of-control meteor, with no trajectory, no direction, and no control.
"Mavu—" He subconsciously called out his name, his voice shattering in the communication channel.
Then a hand steadied his shoulder.
The force of that hand was precise and gentle, just enough to cancel out all the kinetic energy of his fall, yet he didn't feel any impact.
Golden-red flames spread from that hand, like a warm tide washing over every inch of the Iron Man Suit's surface.
The frost vaporized the moment it touched the flames, emitting a hissing white mist.
The blocked thruster nozzles were melted, the Frozen hydraulic oil flowed again, and the extinguished sensors lit up one by one.
Tony floated in mid-air, 18,000 meters above the ground, gasping for breath.
"Thanks, Mavuika," he said, his voice still trembling a little.
"You're welcome." Mavuika let go of his shoulder and continued flying 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 re-forming.
But the system had recovered, the thrusters were humming again, and attitude control had returned.
"Now I've figured out the key areas that need iterative updates," he said, trying to make his voice sound like a post-event summary rather than someone shaken by the experience.
"Anti-freezing, high-altitude atmospheric stability, redundant propulsion systems... The modification list for the Mark III can be very long."
Mavuika nodded, "Also, add deceleration devices. If you had really started free-falling just now, although I would have caught you, you should also have the ability to land safely in the event of a system failure."
Tony was silent for a few seconds; he was right.
Placing all his 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 anyone's rescue.
"I will add them," he said, "retro-thrusters, deceleration parachutes, emergency ejection... The Mark III will do 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, which was most comfortable for the Iron Man Suit.
He did a few rolls, tried sharp turns and sudden stops, and put the thrill of just a moment ago behind him.
Mavuika was still flying 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 go back," he said, "Jarvis, return to the Villa."
"Yes, sir. The shortest route has been planned. Estimated arrival time is seven minutes."
Seven minutes.
Tony steered the Iron Man Suit to the west, flying toward the Malibu coastline, with Mavuika still following beside him.
"How do you feel tonight?" Mavuika asked.
Tony thought for a moment.
"Very good," he said, his tone sincere.
"I haven't been this happy in a long time. You know, sometimes when 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 to run, I just want to lock myself in the laboratory and never come out again."
He paused.
"But tonight... tonight I feel like none of that matters."
"When I'm in the sky, those troubles become very, very small, like ants on the ground. They can argue, they can fight, they can call me crazy, they can predict that Stark Industries will go bankrupt tomorrow, but so what? I am in the sky now, and they are on the ground. I see scenery they cannot see."
Mavuika listened quietly.
"Perhaps this is what you have been feeling for these thousands of years," Tony said. "When you fly high enough and see far enough, things you once thought were Earth-shattering don't seem so big anymore."
The Malibu coastline appeared ahead; the Pacific Ocean under the moonlight shimmered with a silvery, scale-like luster, and Tony's Villa was perched on the edge of the cliff, like a giant white seashell.
He lowered his altitude, aiming for the helipad on the top floor—actually, it wasn't a helipad, just an observation 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 designed load-bearing capacity was far less than two tons.
As soon as Tony touched the surface of the terrace, he heard an ominous "crack."
Then the ground beneath his feet collapsed.