The bustling cafeteria at Stark Industries hummed with energy as teenage interns shuffled in for breakfast. Among them was the boy who’d made waves yesterday, a boy who had found the error in the code of the new robot the Stark Industries were making. He had done it in seconds while the software engineers struggled to find it for months now.—a lanky teen with tousled hair and an old hoodie, his sharp eyes scanning the options at the buffet. He grabbed a tray and reached for a carton of orange juice when a voice, smooth and unmistakable, cut through the chatter.

"Hey, Einstein. Got a minute?"

The boy turned to see Tony Stark standing there, effortlessly cool in a band tee and sunglasses perched on his nose. The billionaire’s signature smirk was in place, but his eyes were sharp, sizing the boy up like a puzzle he was eager to solve.

"Uh, sure," the boy stammered, clutching his tray.

"Great. Let’s take a walk." Without waiting for a reply, Tony started heading toward the far end of the room, expecting the boy to follow.

The boy scrambled after him, trying not to spill his juice. "Am I in trouble or something?"

"Trouble? No. I reserve that for people who crash my suits or try to blow up the planet. You, on the other hand, apparently fixed what a team of highly paid adults couldn’t figure out in months. That kind of thing gets my attention."

They stepped into one of the sleek hallways, the hum of arc reactors faint in the background. Tony stopped and turned to face the boy, crossing his arms.

"So, what’s your name, kid?"