Tony's new routine started very early the following morning. The third floor's old storage room had become a small but very workable gym. Sunbeams from the wide windows streamed into the place and cast warm light on brand-new, neatly aligned pieces of equipment against the walls. At the center of the room hung a very robust punching bag.
Wearing a simple gray T-shirt and shorts, Tony was standing in front of the punching bag, wrapping his hands in soft boxing tape. Jarvis stood nearby with a clipboard, watching closely.
"Ready, Master Tony?" Jarvis asked, his voice calm.
Tony nodded. "Yeah. Let's do this."
He started with simple punches, throwing jabs and hooks at the bag. His form was sloppy at first, but Jarvis patiently corrected him.
"Keep your elbows in," Jarvis said, demonstrating the motion. "Power comes from your core, not just your arms."
Tony shifted his position and attempted again. The blows landed this time much more forcefully, and he crossed a small smile on his face.
"Not bad," he said to himself, taking a few steps back to catch his breath.
Then came a few rounds on the punching bag followed by push-ups, squats, and planks. He sweated plenty as the burning muscles pulled through with effort. All the foggy feelings from the past weeks of working non-stop at his workshop began to melt away.
By the end of the session, he was exhausted but invigorated. Jarvis handed him a towel and a bottle of water.
"Well done, sir," Jarvis said. "Consistency is key. Shall we continue tomorrow?"
Tony grinned, wiping his face with the towel. "Definitely."
He went for his quick shower, had his breakfast, and then went to the study room immediately, knowing full well that even though he often felt that the material was too easy to know, he still needed to stay on top of his formal education.
"Pay attention, Tony," his tutor said as she explained the principles of thermodynamics.
"I am," said Tony, though sometimes his thoughts drift to the workshop. Nevertheless, he has taken numerous notes. Still, he took notes diligently, his sharp mind soaking up the information like a sponge.
In the evening, Tony returned to the workshop, feeling a renewed sense of focus. He opened his notebook and reviewed his notes from the previous days. The failed cloaking protocols no longer felt like obstacles—they were challenges to overcome.
"Hermes," He said, turning to the AI's monitor. "Let's pick up where we left off."
"Understood, sir," Hermes replied, its voice steady.
Tony began tweaking the code for the cloaking protocol, reducing the complex problem into small work chunks. The only noise that broke the silence of the workshop was the pounding of fingers on the keyboard.
He sat back into his chair, leaning back to close to 10 pm, thinking he had done enough, and the answers were on their way.
As he began to tidy up for the evening, Tony's gaze fell to his notebook. He wrote across the top of a clean page: Balance is key to proceeding.
He smiled, turned off the lights, and walked off to bed, knowing he would be repeating it all again come morning.
At just 14, Tony Stark entered one of the most prestigious institutions in the world: MIT. He had spent the last few years proving to everyone that genius could not only thrive in a traditional environment but also redefine its limits. From the workshop in his home to the boundless halls of academia, Tony had achieved more than most could dream of in a lifetime.
His achievements in the Last Few Years... Well, he outdid himself.
Tony's mind had become a wellspring of innovation. By 12, he had developed a revolutionary cloaking device for small drones, using a refined iteration of the protocols he'd struggled with years earlier. This project won him international recognition and awards in science and technology fairs, though Tony was already focused on the next breakthrough by the time he accepted them.
Hermes, his AI assistant, had also undergone significant upgrades. Once a basic system with limited capabilities, Hermes was now an intuitive, semi-autonomous companion. Tony had coded a neural net that allowed Hermes to predict user behavior, adapting responses and operations to better suit needs. It wasn't perfect yet—it still struggled with sarcasm and human nuance—but it was leagues ahead of anything else available.
"Master Tony, shall we prioritize memory allocation for your new project pipeline?" Hermes would ask, to which Tony often replied, "Hermes, prioritize snacks. I'm on a roll."
With each passing year, Tony's reputation as a prodigy grew. His tutors, often amazed at his ability to understand advanced physics and engineering concepts, would simply shake their heads as he explained theories they hadn't yet mastered.
Despite all the accolades and breakthroughs, Tony had managed to keep a semblance of balance in his life. He continued the rigorous physical training he had started, developing a lean and athletic physique. Though his interest in boxing had waned, the discipline it instilled remained.
And just to make sure his parents were safe at home, he made a bunch of mini drones and hid them all over the mansion. These drones can be remotely controlled and they act as cameras, keeping an eye on her. Well, he might have added some electric darts and tiny metal ball shooters in case any intruder wanted to hurt his parents.
The day of his departure to MIT arrived, and the Stark mansion felt emptier than usual. Howard Stark, predictably, was absent, buried in his work on some defense contract that required his undivided attention. Maria Stark, ever the gracious and supportive mother, tried her best to make up for it.
"Are you sure you packed everything?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "I could have someone double-check the boxes—"
"Mom," Tony interrupted gently, placing a hand on hers. "I've got it. Relax. Hermes ran a complete inventory."
Hermes's voice chimed from a nearby tablet. "Indeed, Mrs. Stark. All essential and non-essential items have been accounted for and packed with 99.8% precision."
Maria sighed but smiled. "I know. I just—well, it's going to be strange not having you here."
"It's MIT, Mom," He said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "I'll be fine. Besides, I'll be back for holidays—and maybe to show off my new inventions."
Maria hugged him tightly, her usual poise giving way to raw emotion. "I'm so proud of you, Tony. Just... don't let anyone tell you who you should be. Follow your instincts."
He nodded, the rare seriousness in his expression betraying the weight of the moment. "I will, Mom."
Tony went to his workshop one last time before leaving. The room, which had once been cluttered with half-finished projects and scraps of ideas, now looked almost pristine. He had meticulously organized his tools and prototypes, ensuring that everything would be ready for the next time he returned. 'Can't believe it's been 14 years since I came to his world... Well, it's fun to live a life according to my choice. Oh, I am gonna miss this place...'
"Okay, Hermes," He said, looking at the main console. "I've set you up to manage the house systems while I'm gone. Keep an eye on Mom and Dad, alright?"
"Of course, sir. Will you be needing remote access capabilities during your stay at MIT?"
Tony hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah. You never know when inspiration will strike."
He stood there for a moment longer, taking in the space that had been both a sanctuary and a crucible for his ideas. He then picked up a custom-made watch from the table and wore it. It was a mini-computer with AI. Finally, he turned off the lights and walked out, feeling the weight of a chapter closing behind him.
As Tony's bags were loaded into the sleek black car waiting in the driveway, Maria stood by, waving and smiling through her tears. Howard's absence loomed like a shadow over the moment, but Tony pretended not to notice.
"You'll call as soon as you get there?" Maria asked.
"First thing," He promised, pulling her into a quick hug.
The driver opened the car door, and Tony slid inside. As the car pulled away, he looked out the window, catching one last glimpse of his mother standing on the steps. He didn't feel anger at Howard's absence—he had long since stopped expecting anything different.
Instead, Tony focused on the road ahead, the possibilities waiting for him at MIT. For the first time, he would be living in a place where his peers might actually challenge him, where he could test himself against the brightest minds of his generation.
As the cityscape blurred past, he reached into his bag and pulled out a tablet. "Alright, Hermes," he said. "Let's start drafting the specs for that reactor I was thinking about. No time like the present."
"Of course, sir," Hermes replied, the familiar voice grounding Tony in the midst of all the change.
And so, as Tony Stark began this new chapter of his life, he did so with the confidence of someone who knew that the future was his to shape.
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