The impeccably polite sound of Jarvis. filled the room, accompanied by the first lights of the sun filtering through the wide windows of the Malibu mansion.
"Good morning, Mr. Stark. It's seven o'clock. I've prepared a summary of the most urgent emails, plus your schedule for the day. Do you want for me to pour you an espresso?"
Tony let out a low growl, rolling over on himself on the king-size bed, trying to ignore the virtual assistant. The ocean stretched out in front of him beyond the windows, but at that moment, there was no natural spectacle impressive enough to compete with the comfort of his sheets.
"Jarvis, what happened to letting me sleep in? It's a tradition, you know?" He said, still with his eyes closed.
"I would say, sir, that your traditions rarely include a predictable routine. However, last night you scheduled a nine o'clock call with the Technology Innovation committee."
Tony slowly sat up, tousling his hair as he yawned. He glanced down at the digital clock next to his bed.
"Nine? Did I really think it was a good idea to agree to that?" he snorted.
"You didn't express it enthusiastically, but you made the commitment, sir, after all you've been cooped up in your workshop for a while now."
"And let's hope it stays that way, well, let's call it off. Tell them I had... I don't know, a creative revelation or something. Sounds convincing."
Jarvis was silent for a moment before responding.
"Very well, sir. Though I should remind you that you've been missing committee meetings for weeks now."
Tony ignored the comment, standing up and heading for the open kitchen. He turned on the coffee pot with a tap on the control panel.
"You know, Jarvis, someday these geniuses on the committee will thank me for inventing something that revolutionizes the world. But for that, I need my coffee first."
As the machine whirred, Tony leaned against the counter, looking out over the ocean. The morning breeze gently moved the curtains.
"Another day, another chance to prove I'm the smartest man on this damn coast."
Jarvis interjected in his unchanging tone.
"Of course, sir. Although, perhaps attending the meetings would also help reinforce that perception."
Tony smiled as he took the cup of hot coffee.
"You're a sweetheart, Jarvis don't ever change."
With a sip of the espresso and his mind already planning a thousand ideas, Tony was lost in thought until an idea occurred to him, so he went to wake up the only other person besides himself in the mansion.
'I'm sure the kid will be surprised when he sees that I've already come up with a way to stabilize the armor's power.' Tony thought as he walked down the hallway of his mansion, a satisfied expression on his face. The echo of his footsteps echoed softly off the walls as he made his way towards the guest room, where he assumed John would be working on one of the devices they had been developing together.
With a slightly arrogant smile, characteristic of him, he pushed open the door with a bang, ready to taunt his young apprentice with his usual sarcastic tone.
"Rise and shine, kiddo!" he exclaimed energetically, but his voice was instantly muffled.
The room was empty.
The smile on his face faded instantly, replaced by an expression of confusion. His eyes scanned the room quickly, looking for some indication that John was still there. The bed was perfectly made, except for a sheet of paper folded neatly over the sheets.
Tony's heart skipped a beat as he advanced toward the bed. With steady hands but with a sense of uncertainty he was not used to experiencing, he took the note and began to read.
Dear Tony:
I'm sorry I had to leave unexpectedly, but it's time for our paths to part. I realized that there are people watching me, as they know of my abilities, and I'm not going to let them catch me to do experiments on me. My freedom is something I value above anything else.
Again, I'm sorry for leaving without warning. It has been a pleasure working with you this short time. You have been a great mentor and friend, and for that I thank you deeply. But it is time for me to continue on my path to achieve the maximum capabilities of my abilities. That way, I will never have to run again.
Please don't try to find me.
Your friend, John Walker.
Tony finished reading the letter, but did not move a muscle for several seconds. He remained standing by the bed, the letter still in his hands. His expression was hard to read, a mixture of emotions he rarely let others see: concern, disappointment and, perhaps, a hint of pride.
"Jarvis," he finally said, breaking the silence with a neutral, almost too-controlled tone.
"Yes, sir?" replied the calm, unmistakable voice of his artificial intelligence assistant.
"Apparently, the boy will no longer be working with us," Tony said as he laid the letter on the bed.
"I noticed that, sir. However, I don't understand how he made it out of the mansion. The cameras didn't pick him up at any time, and my motion sensors detected no activity during the night."
Tony raised an eyebrow, his mind beginning to connect the dots. Initial confusion gave way to a spark of curiosity. 'How did he do it?' He wondered as he mentally reviewed all the security measures he had in place. Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind, and a very faint smile appeared on his face.
"Well, if the kid doesn't want us to follow him, there's nothing to be done. Let's get on with our work, Jarvis."
"As you wish, sir." Jarvis replied.
Tony left the room and headed for the workshop, but in his mind things were different.
He walked with his hands in his pockets, his expression neutral, but inside, he couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of worry. There was something about John's note that he didn't quite like, something that sounded too definitive. But there was also hope.
He had seen firsthand the young man's talent and determination. Tony knew that, even if he still had a long way to go, John had the potential to go far, to find what he was desperately seeking.
'Best of luck, John.' He thought as he walked through the door of his workshop. His eyes instinctively darted to the workbench, where pieces of the project they had been developing together still remained. Tony allowed himself a more honest, if brief, smile before turning his focus back to his work.
On the outside, it was just another day in the life of Tony Stark. On the inside, he knew he had lost an apprentice...but perhaps he had gained something more important: a friend who was ready to forge his own path.
(Meanwhile 38 km from Malibu, California)
Los Angeles International Airport, as usual, was a hive of activity. Hurried passengers moved between terminals, some nervously checking their phones while others pushed their luggage carts full of suitcases. Excited tourists stopped to take pictures, admiring the planes taking off on the runway. The airport's loudspeakers announced flights with mechanical punctuality, and the constant noise of conversations, footsteps and luggage wheels filled the air.
In one of the check-in lines at the international terminal, specifically for a flight to Kathmandu, Nepal, a dark-haired, green-eyed young man waited patiently for his turn. He wore simple clothes: a gray jacket and worn jeans, generic enough not to draw attention to himself. However, his eyes were attentive, scanning the area from time to time, as if he was waiting for something... or someone.
Finally, the line moved forward, and it was his turn. He approached the counter where an airport employee, uniformed in a blue shirt and scarf bearing the airline's colors, greeted him with a professional smile.
"Good morning, may I see your passport, ID and ticket, please?"
John Walker, or as it appeared on the documents, John Smith, nodded with calculated calm. He pulled a passport from the backpack slung over his shoulder, along with a paper ticket and ID which he passed to the clerk without hesitation.
The woman took the documents and began to check them efficiently. She ran the passport through a scanner that verified its validity, and at the same time, she looked at the details on her computer screen.
Everything seemed to be in order. However, as part of protocol, she looked up to inspect the passenger and compare him with the photograph on the document.
"Mr. Smith?" She said, pronouncing the name that appeared on the passport.
"Yes, that's me," he replied in a calm tone, avoiding any inflection that might betray nervousness.
"You only carry this carry-on?" he asked, pointing to the backpack on his back.
"That's right." John confirmed with a slight smile.
The clerk nodded, stamped the passport with a quick motion and handed the documents back to him along with the ticket.
"All in order. Enjoy your flight, Mr. Smith," she said, smiling politely as she gestured toward the security area.
"Thank you," John replied with a brief nod.
He stowed the passport and ticket carefully in the backpack and headed toward the security screening area, where other passengers were removing their shoes and placing their belongings in the trays for the scanners.
'Time to go.' He thought as he walked with a steady, though not hurried, step. He knew that every step in this process had to seem normal. He couldn't afford any mistakes.
Getting through security was simple. He had taken every precaution: nothing metallic in his pockets, light luggage, and a demeanor that would not attract suspicion. When the metal detector made no sound, he breathed inwardly with relief.
Once past security, John advanced toward the flight's boarding area. The noise and activity of the airport subsided slightly in this area, where passengers waited in rows of chairs, watching screens announcing their gates and schedules.
In front of the large window overlooking the runway, he paused for a moment, watching the plane that would take him away.
'All according to plan,' he thought as he mentally reviewed every detail of his escape. He had burned any bridge to his old life, and now, a new destiny awaited him.
But then, just as he was about to move towards the gate, a female figure appeared in front of him, blocking his path.
It was a woman with short red hair that didn't seem to reach her neck. She wore casual clothes, but her posture and the way she looked at him betrayed a calculated confidence. John sensed immediately that something wasn't right.
"Mr. Smith, right?" she asked, smiling in a quiet manner as she crossed her arms. Her tone was casual, but there was a hidden seriousness in her voice that put him on alert.
"Yes, can I help you with anything?" he replied, trying to maintain his composure.
"I think you can," she said as she took a step toward him. "You see, we need to talk...before you get on that plane."
John's heart began to race. He quickly analyzed his options, but there weren't many. The gate was too far away, and the area was crowded with witnesses. He could try to run, but he knew he wouldn't get far.
"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong person." He tried to say calmly, but the woman shook her head as she pulled something out of her jacket pocket.
"I don't think I'm wrong."
It was an eagle insignia. John immediately recognized the organization, now he knew he was in trouble. Serious trouble.
For an instant, his mind raced trying to think who this woman might be or what she wanted from him. But it didn't matter who she was; his plan to escape before SHIELD founded him had been ruined.
As the woman watched him with a piercing stare, John could only think of one thing:
'Shit.'
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Aaaand Black Widow finally appeared haha, well I hope you all have enjoyed the chapter, remember to comment and leave your precious stones to me, goodnight and bye bye.