Tony frowned. “That’s odd. Why bail right before the market dipped? No one saw that coming… not even me before that incident.”

Jarvis chimed in, “Orion Voss profited approximately $300 million from his sales, sir.”

Tony rubbed his temples. “So, let me get this straight: this guy waltzes into my company’s stock, makes a killing, and then pulls out at the perfect time? Either he’s a financial wizard, or there’s something fishy going on.”

“I could cross-reference his transactions with market anomalies,” Jarvis suggested.

“Yeah, do that,” Tony said, leaning closer to the screen. “And pull up news archives for Stark Industries. January through July. Let’s see what this guy might’ve known.”

More data flooded in. Tony’s fingers tapped idly on the desk as he skimmed headlines. At first glance, nothing screamed “insider knowledge,” but there was a nagging feeling in his gut that something wasn’t adding up.

“Jarvis,” Tony said, his voice sharper now, “what’s the most likely scenario here? Luck? Skill? Or… something else?”

Jarvis hesitated, as much as an AI could. “It’s statistically improbable that Orion achieved this level of success through chance alone, sir. However, there’s no evidence of illegal activity or insider trading.”

Tony Stark stroked his chin, the gears in his mind whirring faster than the arc reactor in his chest. The news over the past few months had been a mixed bag—mostly positive, sure, but the latest scandals had smeared Stark Industries' reputation like grease on a silk tie. The weaponry disasters were making headlines, and while Tony had to admit they were bad for PR, he also knew at that time the stock price wouldn’t take much of a hit. Shareholders had a way of looking the other way when profits rolled in like clockwork.

“As long as Stark Industries keeps delivering the deadliest toys in the sandbox, we’re safe,” Tony muttered, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t proud of it, but he wasn’t losing sleep either. Yet, something else was keeping him up at night—a young man by the name of Orion Voss. Tony couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the guy was as suspicious as a free Rolex at a used car lot.

“Jarvis,” Tony said, leaning back in his chair, “what’s the latest on our buddy Orion? I want the full financial breakdown—stocks, assets, yachts, everything.”

“Right away, sir,” Jarvis replied, his smooth British accent as efficient as ever. A few seconds later, the AI chimed back in. “Mr. Voss’s current net worth, including assets, bank holdings, and property, is approximately $4.827 billion.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up like they were spring-loaded. “Four-point-eight billion? In three years?” He let out a low whistle. “And here I thought I was good at math. Started with four million, and now he’s Scrooge McDuck swimming in gold. Impressive.”

Orion Voss was only 21, barely legal to rent a car, and already richer than most CEOs twice his age. Tony couldn’t decide if he should be impressed, suspicious, or both. No inherited wealth, no payroll—Orion had built his empire from scratch. For a second, Tony almost respected him. Almost.

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“Still,” Tony mused aloud, “something doesn’t add up. Nobody gets that rich that fast without stepping on a few toes—or a lot of necks.”

Tony’s thoughts drifted back to their last conversation. Orion had casually mentioned that one day he might ask Tony for a favor. That comment had stuck in Tony’s craw ever since.

“Jarvis,” he said, snapping back to reality, “keep tabs on Voss. Any major moves, I want to know before he knows I know.”

“Understood, sir,” Jarvis replied, unflappable as ever.

Despite the admiration he couldn’t entirely suppress, Tony’s gut told him to stay wary. The timing was too convenient. Still, a background check by Jarvis had turned up nothing overtly nefarious. Orion’s life seemed like a luxury Instagram reel—fine dining, exotic vacations, lavish homes, and an impressive lack of interest in social events. He was practically a ghost in the corporate world, and yet his influence was undeniable. The guy was a puzzle Tony couldn’t solve, and it drove him nuts.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Tony buried himself in his lab. The Ark Reactor wasn’t going to perfect itself, and right now, it was the only thing keeping him alive. As the scandals swirled and Stark Industries’ stock nosedived—shedding 30 points overnight—Tony tuned out the noise. Angry investors? Public scorn? Whatever. He had bigger problems to tackle.

Pepper Potts, his ever-patient assistant, tried to pull him back into the corporate firefight, but Tony waved her off. “Let me guess,” he said, not looking up from his tools. “More shareholders with pitchforks and torches?”

“Pretty much,” Pepper replied, her voice tinged with exasperation. “You can’t just hide in your lab forever, Tony.”

“Not forever,” he quipped. “Just long enough to save my life. Priorities, Pep.”

Despite her protests, Tony worked nonstop. Eleven grueling days later, the Mark II suit was finished. Its maiden test flight was a soaring success, and Tony was ready to move on to the Mark III. He was deep in thought, debating whether to paint it gold or stick with silver, when Jarvis interrupted.

“Sir, I’ve picked up a significant development regarding Orion Voss. Shall I brief you?”

Tony set down his tools, his curiosity piqued. “What’s he up to now?” Seated in the glow of his workshop’s holographic displays, Tony tapped a wrench against the table, his jaw tightening as he processed the news.

"During the day, Orion Voss mortgaged over half of his properties and assets, raising $3.55 billion," Jarvis reported in his usual calm, matter-of-fact tone. "He then used those funds to acquire a significant number of shares in Stark Industries."

Tony froze mid-tap, the wrench slipping from his hand. "Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. He just dropped $3.5 billion into Stark Industries’ stock? That’s... bold." He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. "But no voting rights yet, right? Please tell me he’s not storming the boardroom already."

"Not yet, sir," Jarvis replied. "However, with his current holdings, he can now attend board meetings and gain insight into the company’s operations—excluding, of course, classified projects."

Tony exhaled sharply, his brain working overtime. "So, he gets the backstage pass but not the mic. Great. Just great. What's his angle here, Jarvis? Why Stark Industries, and why now?"

The timing couldn’t have been worse—or better, depending on how you looked at it. Stark Industries had taken a beating lately, losing 40% of its market value. While Obadiah Stane and the board scrambled to patch the holes, Tony had been busy focusing on a radical new direction: clean energy. The Ark Reactor was his ace in the hole, the future he planned to build the company around. But he hadn’t shared that vision with anyone—not even Pepper. So how did Orion Voss know now was the time to strike?

Tony squinted at the holographic displays around him. "Did Orion RSVP to the charity gala?" he asked, suddenly remembering the event he was supposed to make an appearance at tonight.

"He was invited, but it remains unclear whether he plans to attend," Jarvis said.

Tony grumbled under his breath, tossing the wrench aside. "Of course it’s unclear. Why would anything about this guy be straightforward?" He glanced at the time, groaned, and dragged himself toward the door.