Curiosity Killed the Cat...

The press room was packed to the brim, buzzing with anticipation as reporters jostled for position. Cameras flashed, notebooks were poised, and the tension in the air was electric. Everyone wanted to hear what Tony Stark had to say after his dramatic return from captivity.

Tony stood off to the side, holding Stephen in his arms. The black cat sat calmly, his blue eyes sharp as he quietly surveyed the room. The red bandana—the transformed Cloak of Levitation—fluttered faintly around his neck as if responding to the energy of the room.

"Last chance to back out, buddy," Tony murmured, glancing down at Stephen with a crooked grin.

Stephen met his gaze with a calm, steady stare. "If you think I'd miss watching you hold yourself accountable, you don't know me at all."

Tony chuckled under his breath. "You're all heart, Steph."

Pepper, standing just behind him, gave him an encouraging nod. "You've got this, Tony."

With a deep breath, Tony stepped forward toward the podium, the room erupting into a flurry of camera flashes and shouted questions. He raised a hand, his expression composed but firm, and the crowd gradually quieted.

Stephen remained perched in Tony's arms, still and composed, as if lending his silent support.

"Good afternoon," Tony began, his voice steady as he adjusted the microphone. "I'm sure you all have questions—some of them smart, some of them... less so. So let's get right to it."

The room fell into an expectant hush.

"First things first," Tony said, his signature smirk flickering for a moment before fading. "Yes, I was taken hostage. Yes, it was terrifying. And yes, I built something amazing to get out of it. But this isn't about what happened to me. It's about what I realized while I was there."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the room as Tony leaned forward slightly, his expression growing more serious.

"For years," he continued, "I've been the guy who sells weapons to anyone with a fat enough wallet. I didn't care where they went, who they hurt, or what kind of damage they did. As long as the money rolled in, I told myself it wasn't my problem."

The reporters scribbled furiously, their pens scratching against their notebooks as Tony's words filled the room.

"But when I was trapped in that cave, surrounded by my own weapons—by the tools of destruction I created—I realized something: it is my problem. It's been my problem all along."

Stephen's gaze flicked toward the back of the room, where Obadiah Stane stood with a carefully composed expression. Tony hadn't mentioned this part of the press conference to him, and Stephen could see the man's shoulders tense as the implications of Tony's words became clear.

"So," Tony continued, his voice resolute, "as of today, Stark Industries is officially getting out of the weapons business. Effective immediately."

The room erupted into chaos. Reporters shouted over one another, their questions overlapping as cameras flashed incessantly.

"What do you mean, no more weapons?" one reporter yelled. "What about national security?"

"Is this some kind of publicity stunt?" another demanded.

Obadiah, who had been lingering near the edge of the room, stepped forward abruptly, his expression darkening as he made his way to Tony's side.

"Tony," Obadiah said, his voice low but firm as he reached out to touch his shoulder. "We should talk about this privately."

Tony didn't flinch. He kept his gaze fixed on the crowd, his voice steady as he addressed the room. "This isn't a decision I made lightly. But it's the right one. I can't keep pretending I'm not responsible for the damage my company has done. Stark Industries is about innovation, about building a better future. And we can't do that if we're still in the business of destruction."

Obadiah's grip on Tony's shoulder tightened slightly. "Tony, this isn't the place for this kind of announcement. Let's step aside and talk—"

Tony turned to face him, his eyes sharp. "No, Obie. This is the place. The world deserves to hear this."

Stephen, still in Tony's arms, let out a soft, almost imperceptible growl, his blue eyes narrowing as he watched Obadiah carefully.

Obadiah's expression flickered, but he quickly masked it with a strained smile as he leaned in closer. "You're making a mistake, Tony. You don't just shut down the weapons division. Think of the shareholders. Think of the—"

"I'm thinking of the people who've been hurt by what we've built," Tony cut in, his voice firm and unwavering. He turned back to the crowd, ignoring the way Obadiah hovered beside him.

"I know this decision won't be popular with everyone," Tony said, addressing the reporters again. "Frankly, I don't care. Accountability starts here, with me. If Stark Industries is going to mean anything in the future, it has to stand for something better. And that starts today."

The room buzzed with energy as the reporters continued to shout questions, their voices overlapping in a chaotic symphony.

Obadiah, clearly realizing he wasn't going to sway Tony in this moment, stepped back, his expression unreadable as he watched Tony take control of the narrative.

Stephen, for his part, remained silent but observant, his piercing gaze flicking between Tony and Obadiah. He could see the tension in Obadiah's jaw, the subtle tightening of his hands. It wasn't hard to guess that this wouldn't be the end of their disagreement.

.

As the press conference came to a close, Tony stepped away from the podium, making his way back toward Pepper and the rest of the team. Stephen remained in his arms, his cloak fluttering faintly as if sensing the energy in the room.

Pepper met them halfway, her expression a mix of relief and concern. "That was… bold," she said, her voice low.

Tony shrugged, though there was a hint of weariness in his eyes. "Bold's my middle name. What'd you think?"

She glanced at Stephen, who sat quietly in Tony's arms, before looking back at Tony. "I think you're about to get a lot of phone calls from the board."

"Let them call," Tony said with a faint smirk. "I said what needed to be said."

Stephen tilted his head, his blue eyes meeting Tony's. "You handled that well, Anthony."

Tony's grin returned, softer this time. "Yeah? You think so?"

Stephen nodded, his voice steady. "It's the right choice. Even if it's not the easy one."

Pepper sighed, shaking her head. "I just hope you're ready for the fallout."

Tony smirked, adjusting Stephen in his arms as they made their way toward another room. 

"Bring it on," he muttered as he waited.

.

The press conference had ended, leaving behind the electric buzz of reporters scrambling to file their stories and a crowd still reeling from Tony Stark's announcement. But in a quieter, more secluded room adjacent to the conference hall, a different kind of tension simmered.

Tony leaned casually against the edge of a sleek table, still holding Stephen in his arms. The black cat sat stiffly, his eyes darting toward the door as Obadiah Stane strode into the room, his usual calm veneer stretched thin.

"Tony," Obadiah began, his tone clipped as he shut the door firmly behind him. "What the hell was that out there?"

Tony raised an eyebrow, his smirk faint but defiant. "That? Oh, you mean the part where I said Stark Industries is done selling weapons? Yeah, I'd say it went pretty well."

Obadiah took a step closer, his imposing frame casting a shadow across the room. "Do you have any idea what you've done? You blindsided me, Tony. You blindsided the board. Stark Industries is the weapons business. Without it, we're nothing."

Stephen's tail flicked sharply, though he kept his expression neutral, content to observe for now.

Tony shrugged, his smirk widening. "We'll adapt. That's what we do, right? Innovate. Evolve. Hell, maybe even make the world a better place while we're at it."

Obadiah let out a harsh laugh, the sound devoid of humor. "You're not thinking straight. This isn't about innovation; it's about survival. The shareholders won't stand for this, and neither will the Pentagon."

Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, his grip on Stephen tightening just a fraction. "I don't care about the shareholders. Or the Pentagon. I'm not going to keep making weapons that kill innocent people. It ends here."

"Tony—"

Tony leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest as he interrupted him. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not doing this to save the company. I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do."

Obadiah's gaze darkened, and for a moment, the tension in the room was palpable. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he forced a smile. "You've always been idealistic, Tony. But idealism doesn't pay the bills."

Tony smirked, reaching for the collar of his shirt. "Maybe not, but I think we should take another look into arc reactor technology."

"The arc reactor? That was a publicity stunt, Tony! We built that thing to shut the hippies up." 

"It works, though," Tony pointed out.

"Yeah, as a science project. The arc was never cost effective. We knew that before we built it. It's a dead end technology."

Before Obadiah could continue, Tony opened the first buttons of the shirt he was wearing, revealing the arc reactor glowing faintly in his chest. "You see this? This is the future. Clean energy, infinite possibilities. It's going to change everything."

Obadiah stared at the device, his eyes narrowing as a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. "You're walking around with that thing in your chest? What the hell were you thinking?"

Tony shrugged, his tone light. "I was thinking I didn't want to die. Turns out it's pretty good for staying alive. And for innovation."

Stephen's ears flattened slightly, though he remained silent. He didn't like this—didn't like the way Obadiah's eyes lingered on the arc reactor or the calculating look that followed.

Obadiah took a step closer, his voice dropping slightly. "Tony, this isn't just a gadget. It's a weapon in the wrong hands."

"It's not a weapon," Tony said firmly, standing up and meeting Obadiah's gaze. "And it's not going to fall into the wrong hands. You don't need to worry about it."

Obadiah's jaw clenched, his frustration barely concealed. He gestured toward Stephen with a forced smile that didn't reach his eyes. "What, you've gone soft because of your new pet? Is that it? Maybe you've been out in the desert too long, Tony."

Stephen's ears flattened slightly, but he remained silent, reminding himself to act like the ordinary cat Obadiah assumed he was.

Tony chuckled dryly. "Yeah, sure, blame the cat. Or maybe—just maybe—it's because I spent three months being held hostage by terrorists armed with our weapons. That kind of thing tends to make a guy rethink his priorities."

Obadiah's forced smile vanished, replaced by a steely glare. "This isn't just about you, Tony. This is about the company, about the thousands of people who depend on Stark Industries to feed their families. You're putting all of that at risk with your little moral crusade."

Tony's expression hardened, his voice dropping. "This isn't a crusade, Obie. It's accountability. Something this company—and I—should've taken seriously a long time ago."

Obadiah stared at him for a long moment, his posture rigid and his hands clenching into fists at his sides. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he forced a neutral expression. "You've always been stubborn, Tony. But this? This is a mistake. A big one."

Stephen let out a soft, irritated meow, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at Tony. "Maybe. But it's my mistake to make."

Tony patted Stephen's head with exaggerated care, his grin widening. Obadiah didn't laugh. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low warning tone. "You're playing a dangerous game, Tony. You think you're invincible, but you're not. The world isn't going to change just because you had an epiphany in a cave."

Tony's grin faded, his expression turning cold. "No, Obie. But maybe I can."

For a moment, neither man spoke, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. Finally, Obadiah straightened, smoothing his suit jacket as he turned toward the door.

"We'll talk later," he said curtly. "Once you've had time to come to your senses. No more of this 'ready, fire, aim' business, you understand me?"

"That was Dad's line," Tony muttered.

Obadiah shook his head. "You gotta let me handle this. We're going to have to play a whole different kind of ball now. We're going to have to take a lot of heat. You've to lie low for now, okay?"

Not giving Tony a moment to answer, he left the room; the door clicking shut behind him, leaving Tony and Stephen alone in the room.

Finally, after a long while, Tony let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he set Stephen down on the table. The cat stretched gracefully, his tail flicking as he watched Tony with a sharp, calculating gaze.

"Well," Tony said, running a hand through his hair. "That went about as well as I expected."

Stephen sat primly, his cloak-bandana fluttering faintly around his neck. "You shouldn't have shown him the arc reactor."

Tony arched an eyebrow. "Oh, come on. You saw the look on his face. He's spooked. That's a win in my book."

Stephen's eyes narrowed. "He's not spooked. He's calculating."

Tony leaned against the table, crossing his arms. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Stephen hesitated, his gaze flicking to the door before returning to Tony. "I didn't pay much attention to the details of this incident in my universe," he admitted. "But I do remember one thing about Stane."

Tony tilted his head, his interest clearly piqued. "Yeah? What's that?"

Stephen's voice lowered slightly, his tone heavy with meaning. "After another press conference—a couple weeks after this one—there was no mention of him ever again. Just a brief note about an accident."

Tony frowned, the weight of Stephen's words settling over him. "An accident?"

Stephen nodded, his expression unreadable. "I don't know the specifics. But whatever happened, it wasn't natural. You need to be careful, Anthony."

Tony smirked faintly, though there was little humor in it. "Careful's not really my thing, you know that."

Stephen sighed, his tail curling neatly around his paws. "Then learn. Quickly."

For a moment, Tony said nothing, his gaze distant as he considered Stephen's warning. Finally, he straightened, his usual smirk creeping back onto his face. "You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that?"

Stephen huffed, though his eyes softened slightly. "And you're an arrogant fool. But here we are."

Tony chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah. Here we are."