Kickback

"Iron Man armor. I can't give it to you," Tony said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of finality, "not even if it's forty generations out of date. Because even if I handed it over, it still wouldn't work for you."

He looked at the group, pausing just long enough for the weight of his words to sink in. "You could dismantle it, trace each wire, map out every circuit board, see exactly how it's all connected—and it wouldn't make any difference."

The scientists, their anticipation beginning to fray, glanced at each other, hesitant. Only moments before, they'd been electrified by the idea of being in the presence of cutting-edge technology, the kind that had been a distant dream. But as Tony's words cut through their excitement, reality crept back in. He was right. Science doesn't leap forward in a single bound; it doesn't skip steps. The most explosive technological advancements in history had always been built on years, sometimes centuries, of hard-won knowledge.

Tony gave a slight, knowing nod. "This is the problem with dropping future technology into the past. You can't fast-track everything just by handing over the blueprints. You can't grow a forest overnight just because you have the seeds."

For a moment, his words settled over the room, and the scientists found themselves sobered, even a bit embarrassed. The realization struck them: even with something as tangible as the Iron Man suit right in front of them, it was as unattainable as if it were still locked in Tony's workshop. The technology was simply too far ahead.

Some of them had always known this, deep down. They'd seen the armor and immediately been struck by the sheer engineering genius. The energy output alone defied anything they'd ever come across; its power structure was beyond revolutionary, the alloys so advanced that it would likely take decades for them to even begin analyzing the materials properly. Then there was the neural link system, allowing Tony to control this advanced exoskeleton as naturally as his own limbs—fast, responsive, even intuitive. The armor seemed almost like an extension of him, moving as seamlessly as his own body.

And then there were the subtle layers of protection: shock-absorbing features that could withstand force that would shred most aircraft, let alone a human inside a suit. Just the outer shell, which could endure direct missile impacts without so much as a dent, must have had dozens of patents tied to it, most of them in fields that no one in the room even specialized in.

What they had considered impressive before—neural link prosthetics that could replicate only a fraction of the armor's abilities—now seemed almost laughably crude.

"This armor is the real deal," one of them muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "What we've been working on…it barely scratches the surface."

Tony caught the comment and gave a slight, amused smile. "Think of it like this," he said. "You're playing around with a radio, and I've got an iPhone. Sure, they're both forms of communication technology, but they're worlds apart."

He saw their faces shift as they grasped it. Each piece they'd previously been so proud of—advanced neural linking, prosthetics, cutting-edge processors—was only a fragment, and even that fragment was rudimentary by comparison. The nerve-link prosthetics they thought were so advanced barely amounted to the "training wheels" version of what his armor could do. Somewhere in the depths of his tech history, even that had already been replaced or improved upon a dozen times.

Their eyes now reflected a mixture of awe and frustration. For someone on the outside, this technology might just look cool. But anyone who understood science could see that this was technology that bordered on the impossible. And the suit he was showing them? It wasn't even the latest model.

Tony checked his watch, breaking their collective trance. "I can't stay here all night," he said briskly, folding his arms. "What I just showed you—consider it a preview. You'll have what you need to go through all the schematics yourself."

Some of the scientists took the hint, a few nodding to each other in agreement.

One of the senior engineers cleared his throat. "Mr. Stark, rest assured, if there's any equipment or material we can provide to assist, we'll make it happen. We want this partnership to be a success."

Tony's mouth twitched with a faint smile. "Funny you should mention that. The list of materials is on its way. But just a friendly reminder," he added, raising a brow, "this stuff won't come cheap."

The engineer waved a hand, brushing off the comment. "Money isn't an issue here."

"Good to hear it," Tony replied, his tone shifting to one of thinly veiled satisfaction. "Sounds like we're on the right track."

He turned and walked toward his armor, which responded instantly, opening up to let him step in. The suit closed seamlessly around him, transforming him once again into Iron Man.

"We'll have everything you need as quickly as possible," the engineer called after him. "With luck, we should have it all in place within a day or two."

Tony paused, turning back just before he activated his thrusters. "Great. Now cheer up, everyone. We're about to change the world. Put in the work, and you'll be in the history books." With that, the thrusters roared to life, lifting him into the night sky and leaving the group below, still gazing upward as he disappeared into the distance.

The senior engineer, ever the realist, gave the group a sharp nod to snap them back into focus. "Alright, geniuses, you've got work to do."

…

Aboard the suit, Tony glanced at a holographic readout. "You added a few extras to that list, didn't you, sir?" Friday asked, a faint note of amusement in her tone. "Some of those materials won't be used in initial production."

Tony chuckled, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes. "I call it a kickback, Friday."

He leaned back, watching as Iron Man soared toward his lab, autopilot engaged. With a faint smile, he added, "Besides, I have plans to build myself a new suit."