9.We do not Stop.
The gauntlet on Tony's hand immediately reminded Thomas of the iron suit, even before Tony mentioned it himself.
Regardless, Tony became inspired and spent the entire night working on the suit.
There were numerous failed attempts at flying. Thankfully, Thomas was always close by.
Several times, Tony hit the garage ceiling, where all the work took place, and Thomas managed to catch him effortlessly. With his height and strength, he didn't even have to jump; he just reached out and grabbed Tony, placing him back down.
After another such incident, Tony exhaled tiredly.
"I swear, either you fell into a vat of growth hormone as a kid, or it's those powers of yours. Damn, that's useful. Now put me down," he said, cradled in Thomas's arms in a princess pose.
Andre then laughed. "It's often more of a problem than a plus. When fighting villains, it's a plus, but in everyday life... You've been to my house, you've seen my stuff."
"Also true. But seriously, four meters tall? How is that even possible? Maybe it's those powers I can't explain," Tony mused as he moved the giant blond closer to his desk. "Okay, let's put it over here."
Thomas, on the other hand, sat down on the oversized couch, custom-made for his size. "What can you do, you have to manage somehow, but I swear..."
Tony interrupted, setting the spare parts aside and turning to his friend. "Wait, maybe those powers make you bigger, like your body adjusts to the energy you exude? Anyway, where did you get them again?
Thomas, resting his head back on the couch, exhaled. It was a hypothesis that made sense, but he didn't know the original source of his powers.
Thomas excelled at many things: destroying obstacles, embracing the unusual, and embodying the otherworldly. But one thing remained constant—he had no idea what he was truly doing in this world, a question he never hoped to answer. As for the origins of his powers, he simply did what he knew best, staying positive and floating along in his usual state.
"Born with them, Tony. As far as I know, I wasn't genetically modified or exposed to any kind of radiation. Nana never said anything like that–" Thomas explained.
"A wonderful woman," Tony interrupted.
"Yeah, I was lucky to have Nana. According to her, I just showed up on the orphanage's doorstep, and that was it."
"You never tried to find your real parents?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.
Thomas pondered the question. Searching for his parents had never appealed to him. Why seek out the ones who left him on an orphanage's doorstep? There might have been reasons, but he didn't know, and it didn't matter. His real parents were in a better place, and no one could replace them. Nana, the kind woman who raised him, was more like a grandmother. He just couldn't call her mom.
"Didn't want it. " Thomas shrugged.
"It's your decision, whatever," Tony said, stepping back from the subject and pressing an interactive button on the monitor. "Okay, let's leave it at that and move on to something more interesting.
"Colors for the costume, any ideas?" Tony asked.
Thomas know perfectly what color scheme Tony needs. "Gold and red."
Tony liked the idea and decided to make the costume red and gold.
The moment the final product came together was magical. Watching the suit being assembled was a pleasure. The mechanical hands worked in harmony, accompanied by the sounds of whirring gears and clicking metal, like an orchestra of innovation. It was sophisticated and beautiful, astonishing to one who had only seen it on television.
Thomas whistled. "Atta boy, Bwhahaha!" he laughed, patting the display in front of him.
It was morning when the final touches were made, accompanied by Thomas's laughter. Tony had a plan.
"After the Ten Rings?" Thomas suggested.
"After theTen Rings," Tony confirmed. He slowly began his ascent through the air. The suit was working perfectly, and only one name came to mind.
"I wish you the best of luck... Iron Man."
Tony raised his shield for a moment. "Iron Man? I like that. I'll take it, my less handsome, not blood-related brother. Okay, I'm outta here. Pizza's upstairs if you need it." He put his helmet back on, and leveling off, flew at speed toward the garage exit.
Thomas was the only one left to watch it all: Iron Man's first heroic act. The very man he'd been urging to do something like this for years, whom he'd taught kickboxing and wrestling. And damn, it was touching.
"They grow up so fast," Thomas said, brushing away a tear comically. "Eh, time to go home."
However, just to clarify, he called out, "Jarvis?"
The technologically advanced but familiar voice of Tony Stark's artificial intelligence instantly replied, "Yes, Mr. Thomas?"
"Can you clean up?"
"Of course, Mr. Thomas."
"That's good. Then I'm off. Have a good cleaning, Jarvis."
"Thank you, Mr. Thomas."
***
Thomas stood in Tony's backyard, the morning sun shining on his face, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. The city towers and streets in the distance were coming to life, bathed in the golden glow of the rising sun. Its rays illuminated the sky, filling everything within reach with warmth and vitality. Yet, despite the beautiful morning, it did little to lift Goliath's spirits.
He desperately needed rest. It had been a rough week. Though he wasn't physically tired—his stamina limit was incredibly high—the mental exhaustion weighed heavily on him. He longed for a good night's sleep. He could go without sleep for more than a week if he had to, but the sweet embrace of dreamland was what he craved
*Riiiiing*
But apparently, fate had other plans.
Groaning unhappily, Thomas reached for his phone. The screen showed a familiar contact: Nick Fury.
"Agh... So it's something serious," he muttered, shaking his head.
Sighing, he answered the call, bracing himself for whatever mission or crisis awaited. The brief hope of rest evaporated as duty called once more.
With Nick Fury, Thomas maintained a purely professional relationship, and it had to stay that way. He answered the call curtly.
"I'm listening."
Fury relayed a few updates, but one piece of information stood out: the arrival of a man, or rather, the fact that this man's brother is near.
"Thank you, Fury. Now I owe you one."
Thomas pocketed his phone. A strange hammer-like object had been discovered a few days ago in New Mexico, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had already set up a base of operations there. Although it was a S.H.I.E.L.D. matter and no outsiders were supposed to know about it, Fury had to inform Thomas. Gambling debt was a powerful motivator.
Thomas pressed the button on the side of his glasses, transforming them into a visor over his eyes. Moments later, the HUD and microphone icon appeared, awaiting his voice command.
"Coordinates in Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. Make it 2-3 jumps."
He sighed.
At least it was only 1,000 miles, so he needed to boost his strength for this one. He focused, and a golden aura began to manifest around him. It wasn't particularly bright but noticeable enough to the human eye. He channeled the gathered power into his legs while the computer calculated the jump.
A second later, the computer's response was ready.
"Good, hopefully, the floor will hold the force," he muttered. The destination was east, and the distance was 1,789 miles. The computer calculated that two powerful jumps would suffice.
"Hmm, thought it would be more. Okay, time to jump. Gotta greet the visitors from Asgard."
With a determined look, Thomas bent his knees and launched himself into the air, the ground cracking slightly under the force. He soared through the sky, his golden aura trailing behind him like a comet, ready to confront whatever awaited him in New Mexico. And he know what awaits him there. And he is ready as fuck.