Inside the Drop-Wing Skimmer, the steady hum of anti-grav coils thrummed beneath their feet as the desert gave way to ridgelines and endless sky.
Tony adjusted the brace on his leg, wincing slightly. "So… just to be clear, you're dropping me at my house in Malibu? Or should I tell JARVIS to open the garage?"
Luthar didn't look up from the navigation console. "Initial course was your residence. But we've crossed into restricted airspace. Multiple military satellites have locked on.
Tony muttered, "Figures," then slid toward the comms panel. With a few taps, he activated an emergency frequency.
"Rhodey, if you're listening—tell the Air Force to stand down. And for the record? I'm not dead."
A pause. Static. Then a familiar voice, sharp with disbelief.
"Tony? Is that really you?"
"Unless someone stole my vocal cords and perfected my charm—yeah, it's me."
"What the hell are you flying?"
Tony glanced at the control panels. "Let's call it an experimental RV. Long story. Just make sure your people don't shoot us out of the sky, I have to go back home quickly."
"You're not going home. Redirecting you to an Air Force base. Closest secure zone. And Tony—don't even think about pulling anything."
Tony leaned back, exhaling. "Change of plans. The government wants to meet the new neighbors."
Luthar nodded, adjusting the course. "Expected."
Yinsen raised an eyebrow. "They'll be cautious. Possibly hostile."
"Which is why I'm using the only thing I've got left—favors and my charming face."
Liliruca scrolled through the holographic map. "Should I prepare for confrontation?"
"No," Tony said. "But prepare for endless paperwork."
Through the forward viewports, the Air Force base came into view—rows of hangars, control towers, vehicles, and armed personnel moving into position.
Tony tapped the mic again. "Rhodey—tell them not to fire. And maybe have a medic ready. Also… cheeseburger wouldn't hurt."
Outside, the F-22 Raptors closed in. Their weapons remained cold, but the tension was thick. The Skimmer stayed level, and the anti-grav systems were steady.
A voice came over the radio. "You are clear to land. Perimeter secured."
Tony glanced at him. "Try not to scare them. And definitely don't talk about Mars."
Luthar said flatly, "Unless provoked."
The Drop-Wing Skimmer touched down on reinforced concrete with a smooth mechanical hiss. Landing struts locked in place. The ramp began to lower.
Tony stood slowly, stretching his stiff limbs. "Alright. Time to go shake hands and pretend I've got this under control."
Liliruca walked beside him, arms folded. "Is this how your world greets returning people"
"Only if they come back in weird-looking vehicles."
Yinsen followed silently.
Outside, soldiers surrounded the vessel, weapons lowered but at the ready. Orders were shouted, and choppers circled the airfield.
Inside a sealed hangar, Tony sat on a cold metal bench, now wearing standard fatigues. A medical patch covered his shoulder. Nearby, military officials moved back and forth, eyeing the Skimmer through reinforced glass.
Luthar stood near a wall, watched closely by intelligence agents. He hadn't spoken since landing.
Yinsen sat quietly, observing.
Tony sighed. "No coffee, no snacks, no TV. Worst debriefing ever."
The metal doors slid open.
Pepper Potts strode in briskly, heels echoing. Her eyes landed on Tony. She froze—then rushed forward and wrapped him in a tight hug.
"I thought you were dead," she breathed.
Tony held her gently. "I almost was."
She pulled back, eyes scanning his face. "You're bandaged. Exhausted. And of course, still sarcastic."
He smirked. "Wouldn't be me otherwise."
She stepped back and folded her arms. "You know how many people are losing their minds right now? Obadiah's barely holding the board together. The media's foaming at the mouth. And now you show up with... whatever that is."
Tony gestured lazily. "It's not mine. I'm just the passenger." He did not want to be misunderstood for creating such an ugly thing.
Her eyes flicked toward the Skimmer through the windows. "And that belongs to?"
Luthar stepped forward. "It is mine."
Pepper blinked. "And you are?"
Tony cut in, "Let's call him a business associate."
"Please tell me this isn't another weapons deal."
Tony gave a tired grin. "More like a survival pact."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be a disaster."
"Relax. I'm holding a press conference."
Pepper looked ready to explode,"You've been gone for months. You can't just waltz back in and expect things to work like before."
"Sure I can," Tony said, smirking. "It's kind of my thing."
She sighed in frustration. "Fine. Two hours. That's all you get. Then you're standing in front of cameras, shareholders but after that, we are going to hospital. ."
She turned, then paused. "Don't screw this up."
Tony watched her go. "Still the scariest person I know."
Luthar stepped beside him, gaze fixed on the receding heels of Pepper. "You're fortunate to have such loyalty."
Tony gave a tired smirk. "Yeah. She's the one thing that hasn't changed."
He leaned his head back against the wall. "Step one: survive. Step two: pretend I had a plan."
Yinsen, sitting nearby, looked over. "Step three?"
Tony let out a breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. "Try not to let everything fall apart again."
Outside the hangar, armored vehicles repositioned. Journalists gathered behind secured gates.
Somewhere else Director Nick Fury stood silently in front of a wide display screen.
The image was grainy—zoomed-in footage from one of their military satellites. A matte-gray vessel hovered over the desert tarmac, unlike any known aerial vehicle. Its silhouette was jagged, functional, and wholly alien to conventional design philosophies. No external weapons are visible. No known model match.
Fury's one eye narrowed.
"What am I looking at?" he asked calmly.
Agent Hill, standing beside him, adjusted the overlay filters. "It entered the U.S. airspace twenty-seven minutes ago. We picked it up on early-warning radar and deep-range sonar. It doesn't cloak, and its flight profile is... unusual but Efficient. Not like anything in our books."
"No stealth. No theatrics. And not a trace of aerodynamics," Fury muttered, arms folded as he studied the satellite feed. The grainy image showed the blocky silhouette of the Aircraft descending into a military base, its structure looking like a flying bunker. "That's not style. That's confidence… or a damn trap."
Hill tapped a console. "It's currently grounded at Air Force Base. Stark's onboard. He made contact before they scrambled the jets."
Fury's gaze remained locked on the strange vessel. "So Stark's not dead."
"Then someone brought him back. And that—" he gestured toward the hovering silhouette "—is what they came in."
Hill frowned. "On the surface, it doesn't look like much. Armor's thick making at quite heavy no energy emissions, Looks completely ordinary."
Fury's voice dropped. "There's nothing ordinary about anything that drops out of nowhere, dodges half our surveillance net, and lands on a U.S. base with Tony Stark on board."
He stepped closer to the screen.
"I want every frame analyzed. Every sensor readout, radiation scan, and trajectory model. And find out what the hell this is all about before Stark turns it into the next front-page headline."
Hill nodded. "Understood, sir."
Fury turned away from the screen, his coat trailing behind him.
"if I remember Coulson is already at the place position ask him to contact the owner, I need an explanation for what just happened"
He paused at the threshold of the control room and started to think about his next step.