The Stark mansion came alive as Tony walked through the door. Jarvis, the house’s computer system, turned on the lights, changed the color of the windows, switched the TV to Tony’s favorite channel, and adjusted everything to Tony’s preprogrammed preferences.

“Hello, Mr. Stark,” said Jarvis’s almost-human voice.

“Hello, Jarvis,” Tony replied.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I need to build a better heart,” Tony said.

“I’m not sure I follow, sir.”

“Give me a scan and you’ll see what I mean,” Tony replied.

“Shall I prepare the scanner in the workshop, sir?” Jarvis asked.

“Please. I’ll need a full analysis.”

Less than twenty minutes later, Tony sat in the scanning booth in his lab. Laser beams and ultrasound imagers flashed over Tony’s body, analyzing him from head to toe.

“State your intentions for the RT device in your chest, sir,” Jarvis said.

“It powers an electromagnet that keeps shrapnel from entering my heart,” Tony replied. “Can you recommend any upgrades?”

“Why are you talking to me like a computer?” Jarvis asked, his electronic voice betraying not a hint of irony.

“Because you’re acting like one,” Tony replied. “I remember you having more personality than this.”

“Should I activate sarcasm harmonics?”

“Fine. Could you please make your recommendations now?”

“It would thrill me to no end,” Jarvis said.

A smile tugged at the corners of Tony’s mouth. “Ah. That’s more like it.”

“Would you like them on-screen, or shall I talk for the next three-point-two hours?”

“On-screen would be great,” Tony said.

A series of recommendations and schematics appeared on the lab’s monitors. Tony studied them quickly, his keen mind taking in every detail.

“Great,” he said. “Perfect. Just what I had in mind.”

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis said. “Shall I begin machining the parts?”

Tony loaded raw metal stock into the lab’s machine-tool facilities and watched as Jarvis began cutting.

Half a world away, in the deserts of Afghanistan, a swarm of ragged men scoured the sand dunes, looking for items to scavenge.

“Over here! I found something!” one man called, pointing to a battered gauntlet protruding from the sand. He tugged the metal glove free and held it high, as though it were a trophy.

A corroded pickup truck bounced over the dunes toward the discovery. In the back of the truck stood a powerful man holding a mounted machine gun. A banner showing ten conjoined rings fluttered over the machine gunner’s head.

The truck pulled up next to the discoverer and he threw the gauntlet into the back. He smiled up at the machine gunner’s scarred and burned face, hoping for approval.

Raza, the scarred man, merely nodded.

“There’s more here!” cried a man atop another dune.

“And here!” called another, farther on.

Raza picked up Iron Man’s battered helmet from the truck bed and stared into the helmet’s empty eye sockets. “Keep looking,” he called to his men. “Bring me every piece of armor you find—no matter how small. I want all of it.”

Pepper hung up on Agent Coulson for the third time—he was getting to be a real pest—and knocked on Tony’s bedroom door. When no one answered, she poked her head inside. The bed was made but not slept in, though the TV was on. A finance advice show blared news about Stark Industries.

“I have one recommendation,” the moderator was saying. “Sell! Abandon ship.” Behind him, the day’s newspaper headlines blazed across the screen—stark raving mad?, stark lunacy, and other similar rants.

When Tony’s voice came over the bedroom intercom, Pepper jumped. “Pepper, how big are your hands?” he asked.

Frowning, she hurried through the security doors and down to Tony’s lab. When she arrived, she found the workshop dimly lit, dirty, and disorganized. Tony was sitting in a chair, shirtless, his chest plate glowing slightly.

Pepper steeled herself. Though she knew the device implanted in his chest had saved Tony’s life, she still hadn’t gotten used to it.

“I need you to help me,” Tony said.

She stared at the glowing Repulsor Tech device in his chest. “So that’s the thing that’s keeping you alive.”

“That’s the thing that was keeping me alive,” he said. “It’s now an antique. This is what will be keeping me alive for the foreseeable future.” He held up a similar device that looked much more high-tech and powerful.

“Amazing,” she said.

“I’m going to swap them out and switch all functions to the new unit,” Tony said.

“Is it safe?” Pepper asked.

“Completely,” he assured her. “First, I need you to reach in and—”

“Reach in to where?” she asked warily.

“The socket in my chest,” Tony said. “Listen carefully, because we have to do this in a matter of minutes.”

“Or else what?”

“I could go into cardiac arrest,” Tony replied.

Pepper’s stomach twisted into a knot. “I thought you said it was safe.”

“I didn’t want you to panic.”

She felt the blood drain from her face.

“Stay with me,” Tony said. “I’m going to lift off the old chest piece—”

“That won’t kill you?”

“Not immediately. When I lift it off, I need you to reach into the socket....” Tony kept talking, giving quick but complete directions so she could replace the unit.

Somehow, Pepper managed to get through the pro­cedure without passing out. Afterward, she gazed at the old “heart” while one of the lab’s robot arms finished installing the new unit.

“Can I wash my hands now?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said, continuing to talk as she went to the sink. “The new unit is much more efficient. This shouldn’t happen again.”

“Good,” she said, drying off, “because it’s not in my job description.”

“It is now,” Tony replied.

She frowned at him and picked up the old unit. “What should I do with this?” she asked. The tiny power plant glowed slightly in her hand.

“That old thing?” Tony replied. “Throw it out.”

Pepper frowned. “You made it out of spare parts in a dungeon. It saved your life. Doesn’t it at least have some nostalgic value?”

“Pepper,” Tony said, “I have been called many things, but nostalgic is not one of them.” The robot finished the installation of the new unit; the center of Tony’s chest glowed brightly.

“There,” Tony said. “Good as new. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Pepper said, feeling greatly relieved. “Can I ask you a favor? If you need someone to do something like this again,” she said, “get someone else.”

“I don’t have anyone else,” Tony replied.

He looked into her eyes and, for a moment, she felt something for him she’d never felt before. She turned away. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“That will be all, Ms. Potts.” oMJRZ5pGosl28F/az+p7BbzYHRJbxQrgboErKw6Yakti42zzokTgrbtUB4afBQB9