"…pretty cool, huh?"

"Super." I stared at the suits that lined the walls. There must have been more than fifteen of them, all, Tony had explained to me, programmed for a specific use. Only he hadn't used them yet.

"They're amazing, Tony," I said. "I can't believe you managed to crank these out in the span of a few months."

"It gets better," he said, "That's not the only thing I want to show you." He took my shoulders and steered me 180°. "Check this one out."

A panel in the wall opened, revealing another suit of armor. This one was smaller, lighter-looking. Sleek blue and silver, and designed for a female wearer.

"I call it the Chrome suit," Tony said. "It's yours."

I looked up at him, stunned. "Mine?"

"Hell yeah."

I approached the armor, taking in every minute detail; the smooth, shiny finish, the soft white glow emanating from the chestpiece.

"She's programmed with enhanced flight speeds and a superior early-warning system with faster reaction time," he continued talking. "I've outfitted her with a few more tricks here and there, you'll soon find out…Well? Do you like it?"

I tore my eyes away from the helmet. "I thought we agreed on no more superhero stuff. For me, at least."

Tony shrugged. "After I'd made so many breakthroughs with the other suits, it felt kind of logical to try making something new for you."

"Oh," I said flatly. "I get it. Iron Man's just not in the mood to get out in the field, and you want me to fill your shoes." I shook my head. "I thought we had an agreement. No more Iron Girl, right? That's what SHIELD said."

"I never told you to fill my shoes," Tony said defensively. "I just want you to think about it. And SHIELD is okay with it. What happened this summer, with the Avengers…it was a big thing. It's changed everything. And I have a feeling it's just the tip of the iceberg."

Well, so much for not bringing up New York.

"So this is your weird unorthodox way of protecting me," I said numbly. I'd originally created the Iron Girl MK 1 as a means of protection, after all. And my prior experiences with Tony had taught me that he had extremely secretive, roundabout ways to defending anything important to him.

"It is," Tony said, with the air of addressing his board of directors. "What if the invasion had pulled through? Heck, what if it happens again and it works? How do I protect you then?"

"Maybe you're just being paranoid," I said worriedly. I should have known this was going to happen.

"I have good reason to, Iz," Tony said, a hard edge in his voice. "You've heard about the Mandarin, right?"

It sent a chill up my course I'd heard about the Mandarin. His existence was unignorable by now—you're watching TV on a normal day, seeing a normal program; then suddenly your screen would flash jarring smash cuts of explosions and militants in a distant Middle Eastern country. Then the camera switches to a man with a long, ratty beard dressed in Asian robes. And all over the world—no one knew how—he was threatening innocents, taking lives. Spreading terror.

Tony could read my eyes. He didn't need a response. "Stuff like that…it's never going to end. The world's always going to be in danger. And let's be real for a moment—Iron Man isn't always going to be around to protect it."

When someone like Tony Stark, who'd cheated death more than once, starts talking about his own finite mortality, you know shit is serious.

"Technically, you still want me to fill your shoes," I stated, "not now, but someday. Your legacy."

"I just want you to think about it," Tony said. "But in the meantime…" he gestured to the suit as if it were a table laid with food he was inviting me to eat, "this is all yours. Think of it as an early Christmas present in the event that...things go to shit. From a loving uncle to his favorite niece."

That made me smile. "I'm your only niece."

"Whatever. Well, it's here if ever you want to take it for a spin," he said, shutting the panel door and concealing the suit again. "I know teens like to go fast. And if you don't like it, I've made some advancements to your original armor. It's in the basement."

"Thank you."

Tony raised his wine bottle slightly. "Pepper should be home soon. Let's get dinner started…"

I grinned. Call me crazy, but this—this, this house like a spaceship on a cliff in California, with my crazy genius uncle and the voice in the ceiling, felt like home.