Mavuika smiled. "Three minutes."
"Wait... don't just jump off the balc—" Before Tony could finish, the call had already disconnected.
Mavuika stood at the edge of the balcony, golden-red flames rising from beneath her feet.
Three minutes later, Malibu, Stark Villa.
Mavuika landed on the terrace—more accurately, on the terrace that Tony had once crashed through and had now been fully repaired.
As soon as she landed, she saw the glass door leading from the terrace to the laboratory being pushed open.
Tony Stark stood at the door, wearing his signature black T-shirt, holding a cup of coffee. The dark circles under his eyes were as thick as smoky makeup, but his spirit was unexpectedly high.
When he saw Mavuika, the corners of his mouth curled into an expression that was a mix of pride and complaint.
"Yo, Iron Man."
She spoke in a tone as light as if she were saying, "The weather is nice today."
The hand Tony was holding the coffee with visibly trembled.
He had a helpless "I knew you'd do this" expression on his face. "Stop making fun of me."
"I'm not making fun of you," Mavuika said, looking at him seriously. "I saw the news. That name suits you very well."
Tony was stunned for a moment.
Then he looked away and said in a deliberately nonchalant tone, "Cough, I just picked it randomly. I said it in the heat of the moment, and the PR team almost went crazy—"
"By the way, you said three minutes, but you arrived in two minutes and forty-seven seconds. Did you install a navigation system in my Villa?"
"I don't need one." Mavuika walked closer, her gaze sweeping over his face. "You look alright."
"Of course." Tony stepped aside to let her in, his tone carrying a deliberate understatement. "Taking care of a traitor who stole my technology didn't take much effort. Although repairing that building will probably cost a few hundred million, I anyway—"
He paused, suddenly dropping his cynical expression.
"...Never mind, let's not talk about that."
As he spoke, he walked toward the new vehicle, patted the seat, and quickly changed the subject. "Come, look at the bike."
Mavuika didn't press him further.
She followed Tony through the familiar corridor and into the laboratory that occupied the entire basement floor of the Villa.
The air still smelled of a mixture of engine oil, ozone, and coffee.
Empty coffee cups were piled by the holographic projection table, unsaved design files were open on three computer screens, and in the corner, the Flamestrider she had ridden for over a decade...
Was gone.
In its place, in the center of the lab, was a brand-new motorcycle gleaming with a dark metallic luster under the cold light.
Mavuika walked over. At first glance, it had barely changed.
It still had the silhouette of the Flamestrider she had ridden for sixteen years—the streamlined body, low seat height, and the classic black and red color scheme.
Tony had kept the original paint style, only making changes to the details that were difficult to detect with the naked eye.
But Mavuika knew that the core of this vehicle was completely different.
"You can't tell from the surface," Tony said, standing beside her. His voice began to take on that characteristic narrative rhythm of his, a mix of pride and focus.
He pointed to both sides of the body. "But when flight mode is activated, right here—"
He tapped the side panels. "Auxiliary wings will deploy. They aren't decorations; they're real wing surfaces with a variable-sweep design. They expand to increase lift at high altitudes and low speeds, and retract to reduce drag during high-speed cruising."
He paused and then pointed to the wheels.
"Surface mode is a bit more complicated. The tires will expand laterally, like this—" He used his fingers to gesture a transforming structure.
"It increases the buoyancy area, while the hub motors switch to waterproof mode. The RPM decreases but the torque increases, allowing it to push the vehicle across the water like a propeller."
Mavuika followed his fingertips, faintly seeing the precise seams and hidden transmission structures.
"And the power source?" she asked.
Tony's expression suddenly became subtle, a smug look that said, 'Guess what I'm about to say.'
He walked to the side of the bike, knelt down, and lightly ran his finger over an almost imperceptible curved indentation on the inside of the frame.
"Right here."
He tapped it.
The metal panel slid open silently, revealing a fist-sized light source inside that emitted a soft blue glow.
An Arc Reactor.
Mavuika raised an eyebrow.
"You took the one from your chest—"
"Not the same one," Tony interrupted her, standing up and clapping his hands.
"It's a special edition with only 60% of the power of the Mark III reactor, specifically designed for this bike."
He looked at the blue light, a rare, undisguised pride in his voice.
"All the systems on the bike—wing deployment, tire transformation, water propulsion, aerial hovering, extreme acceleration—are all powered by it. Theoretical range: over twelve hours of continuous flight in standard mode."
He turned to Mavuika, the corners of his mouth curling into that familiar arc.
"What do you think?"
Mavuika didn't answer immediately.
She walked around the bike, her fingers lightly brushing the seat, the handlebars, the fuel cap—every spot she had ridden for sixteen years, every part Tony had redesigned, rebuilt, and reborn.
Then she looked up at Tony.
"I like it very much."
Tony was stunned for a second.
Then he looked away, picking up his coffee cup to hide the smile at the corner of his mouth. "Cough, of course. When has something from Tony Stark ever disappointed anyone—"
"Thank you, Tony."
Mavuika interrupted him.
Tony's hand holding the coffee cup stopped in mid-air.
He turned his head and looked at Mavuika.
She stood beside the new bike, her long golden-red hair draped over her shoulders, the cold light of the lab casting tiny shadows in her amber eyes.
She looked at him as if looking at a friend she had known for a very, very long time.
Tony opened his mouth, wanting to say something—perhaps a quip, perhaps a self-deprecating joke, or perhaps to change the subject—but in the end, he just took a soft breath.
"You're welcome," he said.
After a pause, he added, "After all, you're going to be riding this bike for many more years."
Mavuika smiled.
In the cold light of the lab, that smile was like a small, warm flame.
Tony watched her get on the bike, feeling the familiar weight press down on the newly modified suspension system.
He suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right, one more thing."
Mavuika turned to look at him.
Tony put down his coffee cup, his expression becoming a bit more serious.
"On the night I... admitted I was Iron Man..." he said.
"An uninvited guest broke into my house."
"An uninvited guest?"
"A bald black man, dressed like an Agent, claiming to be the Director of some S.H.I.E.L.D.," Tony's tone carried obvious disdain.
"Three in the morning, appearing right in my living room. Even Jarvis couldn't give me an early warning. Do you know what state I was in? I had just finished fighting Obadiah, my chest reactor had 0.5% power left, and I felt like I was going to fall apart at any moment. Then this guy just pops out of the darkness."