An Invitation from Stark

Malibu, atop the cliffs.

One in the morning. The waves of the Pacific Ocean struck the reefs again and again, their sound dull and distant, like some ancient heartbeat.

Tony Stark sat at the workbench in his lab, repeatedly testing the data on his new toy.

The unpainted armor hung from a rack beside the workbench, its metal surface gleaming coldly beneath the lights. Its lines were sleek, its joints precise. It already looked far more advanced than the first generation.

But he still wasn't satisfied.

"JARVIS, lower-leg torque data."

"Current output is ninety-three percent of the design value, sir."

"Too low." Tony set down his wrench, picked up the tablet, and swiped across it a few times. "I need at least ninety-eight percent. Otherwise, there won't be enough cushioning on landing."

"Considering your current weight—"

"My weight is fine."

"You gained two pounds last week, sir. Miss Potts recommends reducing your junk food intake."

Tony's fingers paused. He looked up at the camera on the ceiling.

"JARVIS, since when did you start caring about my weight?"

"Miss Potts asked me to remind you."

"Do you listen to her or me?"

"Theoretically, I listen to you, sir. But Miss Potts is more persuasive."

Tony stared at the camera for two seconds, then laughed. Shaking his head, he tossed the tablet back onto the workbench, stepped back, planted his hands on his hips, and tilted his head as he examined his creation.

"JARVIS, pull up the wreckage analysis report for Mark One."

"Are you sure you wish to see it? Your mood was not particularly good after you viewed it last time."

"I'm in great shape right now. Pull it up."

The screen lit up. Scattered metal fragments in the desert, pieced together from satellite imagery and ground recovery photos, formed a miserable sight. Twisted steel plates, severed circuits, scorched welds. That was what Mark One had looked like in the end—it flew for less than a minute, fell apart in midair, and scattered its parts across the ground.

Tony stared at the photos in silence for several seconds.

"Sir," JARVIS said evenly, "there is something I believe you should know. About Mr. Chen Xiao."

Tony turned to face the screen.

"What is it?"

"I compiled an interesting set of records. You previously asked me to keep an eye on him, though the priority was low. I believe it is now necessary for you to understand."

"Go on."

The screen switched. A video began to play.

It showed Pepper's office.

A bolt of azure lightning shot through a crack in the open window, gathered in midair, contracted, and took shape. The arcs faded, and a young man wearing a beach tank top and floral shorts appeared. Not long after, he vanished as if he had been erased.

Tony frowned.

"When did this happen?"

"Eleven a.m. on May 23rd, three days after Miss Potts asked him for help. I retrieved all surveillance footage from Stark Industries Tower. This is one segment."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. More than one segment."

The screen switched. A second video appeared.

The image was darker, taken from an underground parking garage surveillance camera. A blue circular portal rapidly formed, and a Jeep drove out of it and pulled into a parking space. Once the vehicle had emerged, the portal quickly closed, as though nothing had happened.

The car door opened, and a young man in a floral shirt stepped out. He looked down and fiddled with his phone for a while, stretched lazily, then disappeared beyond the edge of the frame.

Tony recognized that car. It was the one he had ridden in out in the desert.

"This is the underground garage at Stark Industries' Los Angeles headquarters," JARVIS said. "The date matches the time Mr. Chen Xiao brought you back from Afghanistan. The time was two fourteen in the afternoon."

Tony leaned back in his chair, staring at the screen without speaking.

JARVIS continued playing the footage. A third video.

The image was blurrier, seemingly taken from the city's surveillance system. A street somewhere in New York, late at night, with dim streetlights. A figure emerged from an alley, then—transformed into a bolt of blue lightning and shot into the sky, vanishing into the night. It moved so fast that the camera only captured a single blurred streak of light.

"This was Mr. Chen Xiao's route after leaving the hotel on the night of the charity gala," JARVIS said. "He transformed into lightning and departed from an empty alley, heading northeast. Subsequent trajectory estimates suggest he was returning to New York."

The image on the screen froze on the frame where the lightning shot into the sky. The blue streak looked like a scar tearing through the night.

Tony was silent for a long time.

"JARVIS," he finally said, "analyze these phenomena."

"First segment: a bioelectrical energy conversion phenomenon. Mr. Chen Xiao's body converted into an ionized state within zero point three seconds and moved in the form of lightning. His speed exceeds that of any known aircraft, though the exact limit is unknown. Second segment: a spatial folding phenomenon. The blue portal does not match any known physical model. It was not a holographic projection or visual illusion, but a genuine spatial distortion. Third segment: identical to the first, further confirming the sustained nature of his lightning movement."

"Is he a mutant?"

"Based on current data, that possibility cannot be ruled out. However, his energy signature does not appear in any known mutant database. Other possibilities cannot be ruled out either—such as magic."

Tony turned to look at the ceiling camera.

"Magic? Seriously?"

"There is one more thing, sir," JARVIS said.

"More?"

"The time Mr. Chen Xiao appeared in the Afghan desert closely matches the location of the cave where you were held captive. When I later accessed satellite thermal imaging records, there was a heat source within three kilometers of the area. The movement path of that heat source overlapped with Mark One's flight route after your rescue."

A simulated thermal movement map appeared on the screen. Amid the blurry color patches, a blue point of light remained near the cave for several hours, then moved toward the area where Tony crashed at the moment he escaped.

Tony stared at the map, and something clicked in his mind.

"He was there," Tony said quietly. "He was there from the beginning."

"Based on the available evidence, yes, sir."

"He watched me get beaten? Watched me build Mark One? Watched me fly out?"

"He may have been monitoring your condition. If you encountered mortal danger, he may have intervened."

"But he didn't intervene."

"Because you did not encounter mortal danger. You successfully flew out."

Tony was silent for a long time.

He remembered the Jeep in the desert, the cheeseburger, the bottle of ice-cold cola. He remembered that young man teasing him, saying, "No sleeping here."

"Why did he save me?" Tony asked, his voice softer than before.

"His motives cannot be inferred from current data," JARVIS said. "However, he once said something to Miss Potts: 'Good people should be rewarded.'"

Tony froze for a moment, then laughed.

"Good people should be rewarded." He repeated it, shaking his head. "So he thinks I'm a good person?"

"Based on your long-term charitable work, your public image is: inventor, genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy..."

"Stop, stop, stop. You could've left out the rest."

"Sir. I am merely stating facts."

Tony stood and walked to the window. Outside lay the pitch-black sea, while the lights of distant Los Angeles stretched like a golden ribbon, scattered glimmers drawing long reflections over the water.

"What about his identity?" Tony asked. "What did you find?"

"Mr. Chen Xiao holds a nominal position at a new energy materials technology company as a 'special consultant.' The company holds three technical patents related to the Arc Reactor cooling system. However, the company's actual controller cannot be traced to any individual. Its ownership structure is complex, involving multiple trust funds and offshore companies."

"So it's a shell company?"

"Not entirely. The company has real business operations, a technical team, and revenue. But its existence resembles some form of—cover."

"Cover for what?"

"Unknown. His address is registered at 177A Bleecker Street, a townhouse. However, the ownership records for that property likewise cannot be traced to any individual. He has lived in that building for at least two years, but there are no public records indicating how he acquired the property."

Tony turned to face the screen.

"You mean this guy has a legal identity, a legal address, and a legal job, but behind all that legal information, there's no actual person to be found?"

"An accurate summary, sir."

Tony fell silent.

He remembered Chen Xiao's introduction when they first met.

An ordinary person? My ass.

"JARVIS, do you think he's dangerous?"

"Based on his current behavior, he has shown no signs of malicious intent. He saved your life, assisted Miss Potts, and asked for nothing in return. His behavioral pattern more closely resembles that of—an observer."

"An observer?"

"He appears to observe certain events rather than actively intervene. Your captivity was one example. He was present the entire time, but did not interfere with your escape, only providing assistance at the end."

Tony thought it over and found the analysis reasonable.

"Then what is he observing now?"

"Unknown. However, his recent movements have been concentrated between New York and Los Angeles, with a certain degree of overlap with your own route."

Tony raised an eyebrow.

"You mean he's observing me?"

"That possibility cannot be ruled out."

Tony stared at the surveillance footage on the screen, watching that blue bolt of lightning shoot into the sky. Suddenly, he smiled.

"Interesting," he said. "Very interesting."

He turned and walked back to the workbench, picking up his phone.

"Sir, what are you going to do?" JARVIS asked.

"Take my lifesaver out to dinner."

"It is one in the morning."

"He doesn't need sleep. He turns into lightning. What does he need sleep for?"

Tony searched through his contacts. He had a business card, but apparently forgot to save the number. Pepper had it. He sent Pepper a message: "Send me the number for that guy who turns into lightning."

Three seconds later, Pepper replied: "??? Are you insane? It's one in the morning."

"I'm not insane. Send me the number."

Five seconds later, a number came through, along with: "Tony, if you harass him, I'm not letting you get away with it."

Tony ignored her, copied the number, opened the messaging screen, and began typing.

"Tomorrow, seven p.m. My house. Don't be late. by T"

He stared at the text for two seconds, thinking the tone sounded a little too much like an order. But after considering it, he decided there was no need to change it. When Tony Stark invited someone to dinner, this was his style.

Send.

Then he tossed his phone onto the workbench, picked up the wrench, and tightened the screws on Mark Two's lower leg.

"Sir, do you think he will come?" JARVIS asked.

"Unless something unexpected happens, he'll come," Tony said. "He saved my life. I need to thank him in person. And besides—"

He paused.

"I want to see exactly how he transforms."

The wrench turned.

"JARVIS, compile every surveillance clip involving him into one file. I want to play it for him at dinner tomorrow."

"You intend to question him directly? That would not be a friendly action."

"It's not a question. It's more like an honest exchange between friends."

"You are not friends yet, sir."

"Soon."

Tony set down the wrench, stepped back, and looked at Mark Two. The silver-white armor stood silently beneath the lights, like a sword waiting to be drawn.

"JARVIS."

"Sir?"

"Tomorrow night, prepare more desserts."

"Understood, sir. I will notify the staff to prepare them."

"And put a few more bottles of cola in the fridge. Cold ones."

"Sir, you do not normally drink cola."

"They're for him."

JARVIS fell silent for a second.

"Sir, you seem particularly invested in Mr. Chen Xiao."

Tony paused, then laughed.

"He saved my life. And he can turn into lightning. Either one of those things alone is enough to get my attention."

He walked to the window and looked out over the Pacific Ocean. A cargo ship moved slowly across the dark water, its lights like a star crawling along the horizon.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would find out exactly what the man who could turn into lightning was.

His phone vibrated.

Tony picked it up and saw Chen Xiao's reply.

"???"

"Fine."

Tony thought for a moment. "Also, let Pepper know. Employees need to relax once in a while too."

"Miss Potts already knows. She said she will arrive early."

Tony nodded and said nothing more.

Outside the window, the Pacific Ocean waves continued striking the reefs, one after another.