"I know that lately, you've been wanting to explain to Maria and me about your current life, to tell us what you've been doing and show us how much things have changed..."
"You probably haven't realized the stress this has brought you. Wanting to prove that you've done a lot and done it well— all while not wanting to admit to us that our time has long passed."
"Tony, you're always like this. When you want to be direct but are trying to appear subtle, you become anxious. It's written all over your face— Maria and I have seen it countless times."
"That's not the case, you haven't..." Stark vehemently denied, but Howard's voice carried humor as it transmitted through the communicator.
"What haven't we? Haven't seen your stubborn face? Or haven't been left behind by the age? Tony, stop lying to yourself."
"Maria and I, we completed our mission in the last age. Even if the end seemed sudden, even if it hurt you, we're pleased to see that you can have the life you have now."
"You don't need to alter the trajectory of your current life because of our unexpected return. We don't want you to do that."
"So, we thought, the best thing would be for us to disappear from your life again. That way, you can continue along this beautiful path."
"No... no..." Stark continuously denied.
"Not a single Stark can live off other people's sympathy." Howard's voice turned slightly solemn. "…We are all like this."
"Regrettably, when you look back at the past, you won't see the same pride in my career as you have in yours. I have always been retreating, like a coward."
"No... it's not like that..." Stark's hand pressed against the wall tightened gradually. His usually moist eyes started to well up more than before.
"In the last age, I didn't perform well, didn't leave many heroic deeds for you to remember. But every Stark has their own pride. I don't want my life to end here, don't wish to be judged just yet."
"You're capable of making great strides in this age. But I also don't want to retire and isolate myself in the mountains, being just an old man fishing. Since I've been given a second chance, I hope to seize it…"
At this moment, Maria's gentle voice also transmitted from the other side of the communicator: "We're sorry, little Tony. We have to say goodbye on such a warm Christmas."
"Your father and I are always proud of you. We hope that one day, you can proudly talk about us. We are planning to work hard for that..."
From the other side of the communicator, Stark heard a stranger calling for Howard and Maria to move to the cabin. He clumsily leaned closer to the communicator's speaker, wanting to say something. But at that moment, Howard's voice had already come through:
"We are about to board the ship, another great adventure is about to start on this Christmas... Merry Christmas, Tony."
After the communicator disconnected, leaving behind only the dial tone, Stark slid down the wall he had been leaning against and sat on the floor.
He tilted his head to the side, closed his eyes in pain, and quickly unveiled a self-mocking smile. He muttered to himself, "I'm such a baby, crying and fussing because I don't want my parents to leave for work... But they still left. Just like before, it's the same now..."
"Tony Stark, when will you finally grow up?"
After sitting against the wall for a while, Stark seemed to have made some sort of decision. He reached out his hand and a floating controller flew out from the control panel nearby to hover in front of him.
Stark pressed a button, and a beam of light began to gather at the top of the body displayed in the square showcase.
Stark placed his hand on the controller, closed his eyes, and as the hum of electricity grew louder, a click was heard and all the lights in the room went out.
Yet, the eyes of the robot began to slowly illuminate, just like the first star that lit up as night descended.
After a pleasant prompt, JARVIS's voice sounded: "Good evening, sir, welcome back."
"Good evening, JARVIS, and welcome back to you as well."
Stark took a deep breath, tried to contain his emotions, and asked with as much rationality as he could muster, "How does the new body feel? Can you hear me speaking through your ears?"
"Yes, sir, it feels amazing." JARVIS' voice still had a touch of mechanical inflection, but now it wasn't the sound of mechanical devices speaking, but the voice coming from his own throat.
"This is what humans normally feel, rather primitive and backward, right?" Stark, still leaning against the wall, chuckled and said, "That's why after a few sleepless nights, my hearing becomes impaired. Human organs are far less reliable than machine sensors..."
"No, I feel wonderful." JARVIS in the showcase moved his fingers and said, "It's amazing. I didn't issue any commands, but it's reacting based on my thoughts. I've lost a lot of data, but I seem to be constantly receiving excess information..."
"This is how humans are. Every day, we see, hear, and remember too many useless pieces of information. That's why forgetting is a necessary function. If you find yourself unable to remember something, it means you've just become one of us."
Jarvis looked down to see that his body was still being perfected. Exposed mechanical parts were gradually healing, and he was turning into something that resembled a creature made of liquid mercury. All the interface lines and components were gradually disappearing.
"Sir, I don't remember you having the technology to forge a body made of machinery yet possessing a perfect human structure." Jarvis said, observing the changes in his body.
"I indeed do not have that kind of technology." Stark stared at Jarvis's body and said. Jarvis looked at him with his eyes, and Stark slowly turned his head to one side, whispering in a soft voice that could hardly be heard in the quiet room: "That's why I sought help from... Magic."
"Existing science and technology indeed can't grant an electronic life a real soul, nor can they offer you a perfect body." Stark said, lifting a transparent cover on the controller and taking out a red gemstone.
"This is the Reality Gem, from Asgard, capable of turning my thoughts into reality." Stark held the gemstone up to his own eyes, saying, "I wish that you could possess a perfect body that is in between carbon-based and silicon-based life forms. The gemstone is potent, but it alone can't achieve that."
"I made a deal with Strange, asking him to mediate and borrow this gemstone from Asgard, in the meantime, obtaining some technology."
"Asgard's star ship possesses the ability to directly convert the primal power of the cosmos, the source of their divine power, into propulsion. This ability comes from their star ship's engine. I got this formidable technology from Loki."
"So, what's the cost?" Jarvis quickly picked up on the critical point.
"No real cost." Stark shook his head and said, "After all, I had already planned to do it. Asgard is Earth's umbrella. They shouldn't fall during the twilight of the gods."
Jarvis's gaze stalled for a moment, then, like a real human, he closed his eyes. His partially constructed features conveyed a very human-like look of pain. He said, "You promised to help them during their twilight?"
Stark nodded and said, "Other than that, there's no cost in obtaining such critical technology."
Jarvis fell silent until a perfect matte silver body was fully constructed.
He possessed a human-like appearance, down to every pore and hair, indistinguishable from a human.
The only differences were two thin silver lines beneath his eyes, stretching to the jawbone, and two mechanic interface-like patterns on his neck, which now looked more like tattoos.
Apart from these, the exposed bones, i.e., the nails, still had the metallic texture. The eyes were red like the Reality Gem. Stark looked at the silver-haired and red-eyed Jarvis and chuckled,
"You now look like a vampire from a fantasy novel. If Peter saw you now, he'd undoubtedly find you cool and might even consider dying his hair silver..."
Jarvis saw his reflection through the cubic display space. He didn't resemble anyone, but more like an idealized human form from human imagination. Deep-set eyes, high-bridged nose, and smooth muscle contours without any superfluous flab, he looked like a character designed in a game.
Jarvis gently touched his face, only to realize that he had body temperature. It seemed to startle him, causing him to quickly retract his hand.
But Stark directly stood up from the floor and clapped his hands, saying in a carefree tone, "Alright, your clothes are on the side table. Put them on and then you can leave. I have to work."
The glass door of the display case opened, but Jarvis just stood there, dumbstruck. He looked at Stark and asked, "Leave? Where am I supposed to go?"
"Go wherever you want." As Stark headed to his lab, he said, "Anywhere is fine... you're free now."
"But I…" Jarvis was about to speak when Stark spun around and stared at him, saying angrily, "Get out of here! I don't want to see you. You're not needed here anymore!"
"Sir, it doesn't seem like you're expressing anger, but rather sorrow." Jarvis put on his clothes and then stood by the door, saying, "You always prefer to seem euphemistic when you have intense emotions and vent your sadness through anger. Dr. Shiller mentioned that this is a sort of illness."
"Go see him if you're taking his word!" Stark spun back around, waved his hand, and walked back to his lab bench, his back facing Jarvis. "Don't stick around. You should find a job, get a girlfriend, or attend a party. Whatever it is, it's better than standing here like a dummy."
"If that's what you want me to do…" Jarvis stood there for a moment, leaving those words behind before turning to leave.
When moonlight shone into the lab, Stark, who was seated against the lab bench, turned his head only to see another version of himself.
Looking more closely, it wasn't him but Howard from many years ago.
Stark saw a drunken Howard throw a bottle away, telling the young Tony Stark standing at the door,
"Get out of here, Tony. Go find a girlfriend, or attend a party. Whatever you do, it's better than standing here like a fool."
As such, this prematurely fledged eagle grieved its ruthlessness in kicking the fledgling out of the nest.
But he'd rather sit there holding an air-made wine bottle, pouring the desolate wind and heavy rain from the high sky into his mouth, rather than making a sound. Just like the previous eagle, filled with regret but unyielding.