Chapter 6
July 3rd, 2013
"Focus on the temperature gradient," Bruce instructed, monitoring the readings on the tablet in his hand. "You're creating too much heat at the core and not enough dispersion toward the outer layers."
Sara nodded, sweat beading on her forehead as she concentrated on the exercise. The softball-sized sphere of flame hovering between her palms pulsed with concentric rings of color—white-hot at the center, fading to yellow, then orange, and finally a cool red at the outer edge. Each layer represented a different temperature range, precisely controlled and maintained in perfect equilibrium.
At least, that was the goal. Currently, the white-hot core was expanding erratically, threatening the delicate balance of the entire structure.
"Breathe," Bruce reminded her gently. "Remember what Chen taught you about thermal distribution. Visualize the molecules slowing as they move outward."
Sara closed her eyes briefly, centering herself before refocusing on the flame sphere. Gradually, the core stabilized, the layers reestablishing their distinct boundaries. The readings on Bruce's tablet leveled out, indicating successful temperature control across all zones.
"Better," Bruce nodded, the hint of a smile breaking through his usually reserved expression. "You're getting more precise with each session. The progress graph shows a seventeen percent improvement in your fine control over the past month alone."
"Still room for improvement," Sara noted, carefully extinguishing the flame sphere with a controlled exhale. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling the pleasant burn of muscles pushed to their limits—not just physically, but mentally. Flame manipulation at this level required intense concentration, the kind that left her both exhausted and exhilarated.
"Always," Bruce agreed, setting his tablet aside. "But don't discount how far you've come. When we started these precision exercises in January, you couldn't maintain a dual-temperature flame for more than thirty seconds. Now you're handling five distinct thermal layers for over five minutes."
Sara ducked her head at the praise, still unused to receiving compliments from someone whose scientific work she'd been studying since she was ten. Working with Bruce—the brilliant physicist behind dozens of groundbreaking papers she'd read during her accelerated education—remained somewhat surreal, even after months of regular training sessions.
"Ready for phase two?" Bruce asked, moving toward the specialized equipment arranged at the far end of the lab.
Sara nodded, following him to the testing area where Stark Industries' most advanced thermal sensors were arranged in a semicircle. This part of her training had begun recently—moving beyond mere control into practical applications of her abilities, exploring how her fire manipulation could be used for more than just combat.
"Today we're focusing on precision heating of composite materials," Bruce explained, gesturing to the samples arranged before the sensors. "Modern engineering often requires very specific thermal treatments—too hot, and the material degrades; too cool, and the molecular bonds don't form properly."
"Like annealing metal," Sara noted, recalling her engineering studies.
"Exactly. But with these experimental composites, the temperature ranges are much narrower, and conventional heating methods are often too imprecise." Bruce handed her a data pad displaying the thermal specifications. "Tony believes your abilities could revolutionize certain manufacturing processes, especially for his more... specialized projects."
Sara studied the specs, mentally calculating the heat distribution required. "He wants me to help build Iron Man suits," she surmised with a grin.
"Among other things," Bruce confirmed. "Though this particular test is for a new type of body armor—lighter than Kevlar but twice as effective. The challenge is maintaining a consistent 573 Kelvin across the entire surface while simultaneously keeping the core at exactly 601 Kelvin."
"A twenty-eight-degree differential maintained across a non-uniform composite," Sara translated, already strategizing her approach. "Challenging, but doable."
They spent the next hour working with various samples, Sara adjusting her technique with each attempt, gradually improving her precision until she could reliably create the exact thermal conditions needed for the experimental materials.
"That's enough for today," Bruce decided, reviewing the final test results. "Your control is impressive, but you're approaching fatigue. Pushing further would be counterproductive."
Sara nodded, recognizing the wisdom in his caution. Using her powers with such precision was mentally taxing in a way that the more instinctive, combat-oriented applications weren't. She could feel the familiar headache beginning to build behind her eyes—the result of sustained concentration rather than physical exertion.
"Same time Thursday?" she asked, helping Bruce organize the test results and samples.
"Actually," Bruce's tone shifted slightly, becoming more casual, "I'll be out of town on Thursday. Conference in Geneva that Tony insisted I attend in his place."
"Let me guess—he scheduled it, then remembered he has 'a thing'?" Sara grinned, well-accustomed to her biological father's aversion to scientific conferences, despite his genius-level contributions to multiple fields.
"Something like that," Bruce's lips twitched in amusement. "Though this time the 'thing' is apparently a very important meeting about... foundation matters."
Sara immediately noted the slight hesitation in Bruce's voice—the same hesitation she'd been detecting in various Avengers lately whenever certain topics came up. The "foundation matters" excuse had been used with increasing frequency over the past few months, particularly when Sara asked about meetings she wasn't invited to or conversations that stopped when she entered a room.
She was certain something was being planned—something that involved her, given the way the adults exchanged meaningful glances when they thought she wasn't looking. But she'd decided to play along for now, pretending not to notice the obvious secret-keeping while gathering what information she could.
"The Maushmi Kanala Stark Foundation must have really fascinating business if it requires so many confidential meetings," she commented innocently. "Mom and Tony have been locked in the conference room at least three times this week discussing 'foundation matters.'"
Bruce cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in organizing his already-neat research notes. "Well, it is a multi-billion dollar philanthropic organization. I'm sure there are many complex... philanthropic... things to discuss."
"Philanthropic things," Sara repeated, not bothering to hide her amusement at Bruce's transparent discomfort with lying. "Very specific."
"Speaking of specific," Bruce changed the subject with unsubtle determination, "how are things going with Zara? Isn't she arriving soon for her Juilliard program?"
Sara allowed the obvious deflection, too excited about Zara's impending visit to press the issue. "Next Tuesday. Her program starts on the 8th, but she's coming early to get settled in the dorms and..." she felt her cheeks warm slightly, "...to spend some time with me before her schedule gets crazy."
"That's wonderful," Bruce said with genuine warmth. "First in-person meeting after—how long have you been video-chatting now?"
"Eight months," Sara confirmed, still somewhat amazed at how a friendship that began in online school had evolved into something so significant. "Though it feels like longer. In a good way."
Bruce nodded understanding. "Some connections transcend ordinary timeframes. I imagine it must be exciting, finally meeting face to face."
"And terrifying," Sara admitted, suddenly finding the lab floor fascinating. "What if we don't... click the same way in person? What if the chemistry is different when we're actually in the same room? What if—"
"What if everything is even better than you've imagined?" Bruce suggested gently. "Try to approach it with curiosity rather than anxiety, Sara. Whatever happens, it's another data point in understanding yourself and what you want."
Sara smiled gratefully at his framing of the situation. Bruce always knew how to make emotional challenges feel like scientific problems—approachable, analyzable, solvable—which somehow made them less overwhelming.
"Thanks," she said simply. "For the advice and for not making this awkward. Tony keeps threatening to give Zara 'the talk' when she visits, which is horrifying on multiple levels."
"I'll see what I can do to prevent that particular disaster," Bruce promised with a small smile. "Though I make no guarantees. When Tony decides to embrace a fatherly duty, he tends to approach it with characteristic... enthusiasm."
"That's one word for it," Sara laughed, gathering her things to head back to her quarters. "See you next week, Dr. Banner."
"Bruce," he corrected gently, as he had countless times before. "I think we're well past the formalities at this point, don't you?"
Sara nodded, still feeling a small thrill at being treated as a peer by someone she respected so deeply. "See you next week, Bruce."
As she made her way through the tower's corridors toward her room, Sara's mind shifted between thoughts of Zara's upcoming visit and curiosity about whatever secret project the adults were planning. The combination of personal excitement and professional intrigue left her feeling energized despite her physical fatigue from the training session.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming message as she entered her quarters.
Harsha [3:45 PM]: Hey sis! Quick check: does Stark Tower have guest rooms, or should Aurelio and I book a hotel when we visit next weekend?
Sara [3:46 PM]: Are you kidding? The tower has an entire FLOOR of guest suites. Pretty sure Aniruddh would be mortally offended if you stayed at a hotel.
Harsha [3:47 PM]: Just checking. Didn't want to impose on the superhero clubhouse. Is it weird living with the Avengers? Do they leave their weapons lying around and stuff?
Sara smiled at her brother's perception of her life in the tower. If only he knew that she wasn't just living with the Avengers—she was training to potentially become one.
Sara [3:48 PM]: Totally normal. Thor's hammer makes a great doorstop, and Black Widow's stingers are excellent for opening tough packaging.
Harsha [3:49 PM]: Funny. But seriously, I'm excited to see the place. Aurelio is low-key freaking out about meeting Captain America.
Sara [3:50 PM]: Cap's the most normal one, honestly. It's Barton you need to watch out for. He rigged a trip wire in the vents last week that dropped glitter on anyone who walked through the east corridor.
Harsha [3:51 PM]: ...I can't tell if you're joking.
Sara [3:52 PM]: I wish I was. I'm still finding purple glitter in my hair.
She set her phone aside to shower and change, looking forward to her brother and Aurelio's visit the following weekend. The timing was perfect—they'd be arriving just after Zara, giving Sara a chance to introduce her maybe-girlfriend to her family in the relative safety of the tower, rather than during the more formal "meet the parents" dinner Tony was planning.
After showering away the sweat from her training session, Sara dressed in comfortable clothes and headed to the common area, hoping to grab a snack before her online class session. She found Natasha and Clint in the kitchen, engaged in what appeared to be an intense debate about knife throwing techniques.
"All I'm saying," Clint was insisting as he demonstrated a particular grip on a butter knife, "is that the Mongolian reverse grip gives you better rotational control on lighter blades."
"And all I'm saying," Natasha countered, snatching the knife and adjusting the hold, "is that you're confusing the Mongolian technique with the Korean variant. This—" she demonstrated with fluid precision, "—is the authentic approach."
"Hi?" Sara interrupted, amused by the deadpan seriousness with which the two assassins discussed what was essentially the proper way to hold cutlery.
"Perfect timing," Clint grinned, turning to her. "Settle a debate for us, firecracker. Which knife throw looked more controlled—mine or Romanoff's?"
"I literally just walked in," Sara pointed out, heading for the refrigerator. "And also, you're both using butter knives, so I'm not sure how I'm supposed to judge theoretical aerodynamics."
"She has a point," Natasha conceded, setting the knife aside. "We'll need proper blades for a true demonstration."
"No knife throwing in the common areas," JARVIS interrupted smoothly. "Captain Rogers has requested I remind all residents of this rule following last month's incident with the fruit bowl."
"That was one time," Clint muttered defensively.
"Five times, Agent Barton," JARVIS corrected. "The incidents occurred on May 12th, May 17th, June 2nd, June 15th, and June 29th."
"Technicalities," Clint waved dismissively. "Anyway, Sara, how was the lab session with Banner? Tony mentioned you were working on precision thermal manipulation."
Sara grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl (newly reinforced after the aforementioned knife incidents) and leaned against the counter. "It's going well. We're exploring potential manufacturing applications—highly specific heat treatment for composite materials."
"Sounds fascinating," Natasha commented, and Sara could tell she genuinely meant it. Despite her combat focus, Natasha had always shown interest in the scientific aspects of Sara's training, often asking insightful questions about the physics and chemistry involved.
"It is, actually," Sara admitted. "I mean, the combat applications of my powers are obvious, but being able to do something... constructive with them feels different. Good different."
"Balance," Natasha nodded understanding. "Destruction and creation, offense and defense. The most effective operatives master both aspects."
"Speaking of balance," Clint interjected, "we're still on for acrobatics training tomorrow, right? Cap wants me to work with you on mid-air adjustments since your fire propulsion is getting more reliable."
"Definitely," Sara confirmed, excited for the session. Training with Clint was always entertaining—his irreverent approach and dry humor making even the most grueling exercises enjoyable. Plus, his expertise in aerial maneuvers was invaluable as she developed her ability to use controlled fire bursts for limited flight capabilities.
"Just try not to singe his hair this time," Natasha advised with a slight smirk. "He spent three days complaining about the smell."
"That was an accident," Sara protested. "He literally told me to 'aim higher' mid-jump."
"Contextual awareness," Clint shrugged, unbothered. "Important lesson. Anyway, I should get going—strategy meeting with Cap about..." he glanced at Sara and hesitated fractionally, "...foundation matters."
There it was again—that slight pause, the too-casual mention of "foundation matters." Sara maintained her neutral expression, pretending not to notice the obvious evasion.
"Have fun with your very important philanthropic... things," she echoed Bruce's awkward phrasing from earlier, earning a snort of laughter from Natasha and a somewhat guilty look from Clint.
After Clint departed, Natasha remained in the kitchen, studying Sara with that assessing gaze that always made her feel transparent.
"They're terrible liars, aren't they?" Natasha commented after a moment, surprising Sara with the direct acknowledgment.
"The worst," Sara agreed cautiously. "Though you're not much better, Agent Romanoff."
"I'm an excellent liar," Natasha corrected with professional pride. "I'm just choosing not to insult your intelligence by pretending you haven't noticed something's being planned."
Sara set her apple aside, suddenly more interested in this conversation than in her snack. "So you admit it? There is something going on?"
"I admit nothing," Natasha replied smoothly. "Except that certain individuals in this tower have the subtlety of a sledgehammer and couldn't maintain operational security if their lives depended on it."
"But you could tell me what they're planning," Sara suggested hopefully.
"I could," Natasha agreed, her expression neutral. "But I won't."
"Why not?"
"Because some surprises are worth preserving," Natasha said simply. "And because I gave my word."
Sara sighed, recognizing the immovable object that was Natasha Romanoff when she'd made a decision. "Fine. But can you at least tell me if I should be worried? Or excited? Or both?"
Natasha considered this, head tilted slightly. "I'd say... cautiously optimistic would be appropriate. It's something significant, but ultimately, it will be your choice how to respond."
That was more information than Sara had expected to get, and she filed it away for further analysis. "Thanks for not treating me like I'm oblivious," she said, genuinely appreciative of Natasha's straightforward approach, even when she was refusing to share details.
"You're too smart for that," Natasha shrugged. "Now, shouldn't you be getting ready for your physics class? And I believe you have a video call with Zara scheduled afterward?"
Sara glanced at the clock, realizing she was cutting it close. "How do you always know my schedule?"
"Professional habit," Natasha replied with a hint of a smile. "Awareness of other people's movements is second nature at this point."
"Creepy but useful," Sara decided, grabbing her apple and heading for the door. "See you later for dinner?"
"Can't. Mission prep with Barton. We're heading out tonight for a few days. Nothing major," Natasha added, seeing Sara's concern. "Just routine intelligence gathering in Eastern Europe."
Sara nodded, used to the Avengers' somewhat unpredictable comings and goings by now. "Be safe. And try not to let Clint start any international incidents this time."
"No promises," Natasha called after her with rare humor.
Back in her room, Sara settled at her desk for her online physics class, mentally shifting gears from the interpersonal dynamics of the tower to the academic challenges of quantum field theory. The dual nature of her education—traditional academics alongside superhero training—had become her normal, though she sometimes wondered how her online classmates would react if they knew what her "extracurricular activities" really entailed.
The class proceeded smoothly, the material challenging but engaging as Sara worked through complex problems with her study group. Mei's sharp insights, Dylan's practical applications, and Zara's unexpected analogies between physics principles and musical theory created the kind of vibrant intellectual environment Sara thrived in.
When class ended, the others logged off while Zara stayed connected, their scheduled one-on-one call beginning seamlessly.
"Hey you," Zara's smile brightened her entire face, dark eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Sara's heart skip. "Ready for Tuesday?"
"More than ready," Sara confirmed, unconsciously running a hand through her layered hair—a nervous habit she'd developed since growing it out. "Though the guest suite is still being prepared, and Tony's insisting on having some kind of welcome dinner, which will probably be mortifying."
"I'm looking forward to it," Zara assured her. "Meeting your family—your whole weird, extended superhero family—it's important to me. I want to know that part of your life."
"Even the embarrassing parts?" Sara asked with a grimace, imagining Tony's inevitable over-the-top hosting and interrogation of Zara.
"Especially those," Zara laughed. "They humanize you, you know? Sometimes when you talk about your training or your studies, you sound so... I don't know, exceptional. Which you are," she added quickly. "But it's nice to remember you're also a normal teenager who gets embarrassed by her parents and has to deal with family dynamics like the rest of us."
Sara felt a twinge of guilt at the reminder of just how much of herself she still had to hide from Zara. Her "martial arts training" was actually superhero combat preparation. Her "eccentric living situation" was residence in Avengers Tower. Her "unusual abilities" were, well, literal fire powers.
Someday, she promised herself, she would be able to share the full truth. But for now, this connection—built on as much honesty as she could safely offer—would have to be enough.
"I finished that piece I was telling you about," Zara continued, oblivious to Sara's momentary discomfort. "The one inspired by that story you told about learning to channel heat through different mediums. Want to hear it?"
"Absolutely," Sara replied, setting aside her guilt to focus on the present moment—on this beautiful, talented girl who somehow saw deeper into Sara than almost anyone, even without knowing her full story.
Zara adjusted her position, lifting her violin to her shoulder with practiced grace. As she began to play, Sara closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her—complex, passionate, somehow capturing both the discipline and the wildness of fire in its intricate patterns.
It was remarkable, really, how accurately Zara translated Sara's metaphorical descriptions of her powers into music—interpreting what she believed were training analogies as profound emotional truths. In a way, Sara realized, they were exactly that. Her relationship with her fire was deeply emotional, personal in ways that transcended the physical manifestation of flames.
When the piece ended, Sara opened her eyes to find Zara watching her intently, a question in her gaze.
"That was beautiful," Sara said softly. "You captured it perfectly—the control and the chaos, the structure and the freedom. How do you do that? Take the things I tell you and transform them into something so... true?"
Zara smiled, setting her violin aside. "Music is just another language. You speak in fire metaphors; I translate into melody. It's like we're having the same conversation in different dialects."
"You make it sound so simple," Sara marveled.
"It is, with you," Zara replied, her expression growing more serious. "That's what I've been trying to tell you about meeting in person. No matter what language we're speaking—video calls or face to face—the conversation is still us. That won't change."
Sara nodded, finding unexpected reassurance in Zara's confidence. "Five more days," she said, more to herself than to Zara.
"Five more days," Zara confirmed with a smile. "And then we find out if we're as good at speaking the same language in person as we are across three thousand miles of internet connection."
They talked for another hour, discussing everything from Zara's Juilliard program to Sara's upcoming visit from Harsha and Aurelio. By the time they said goodbye, Sara felt more centered, more grounded in the normal aspects of her life—a welcome balance to the extraordinary demands of her training and powers.
After the call ended, Sara found herself restless, the energy from her earlier session with Bruce still humming beneath her skin despite her mental fatigue. Following an impulse, she headed to the specialized training room Tony had designed specifically for her powers, needing the release of uninhibited flame work after the precise control exercises of the morning.
The room was empty, as expected at this hour, its reinforced walls and advanced fire suppression systems allowing Sara to practice without concern for collateral damage. She moved to the center of the space, closing her eyes and taking three deep, centering breaths as Master Chen had taught her.
Then, with controlled intent, she let the fire flow.
Unlike the morning's precision work, this was more like a dance—flames extending from her fingertips in sweeping arcs, coiling around her body in protective spirals, shooting upward in triumphant columns before being drawn back under her control. She moved through forms that combined elements of traditional martial arts with movements uniquely suited to her firebending, creating patterns of light and heat that filled the room with radiant energy.
It was in these moments, when she allowed her powers full expression within the bounds of control, that Sara felt most fully herself—neither hiding nor restraining the fire that was as much a part of her as her brilliant mind or her dry sense of humor. Here, alone in this specialized space, she could simply be.
She didn't know how long she'd been practicing when she sensed a presence at the observation window. Completing her form, she turned to find Sandhya watching, a complex mixture of pride and concern in her mother's expression.
Extinguishing her flames, Sara grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from her face before exiting the training room to join her mother in the corridor.
"That was beautiful," Sandhya commented, echoing Sara's earlier words to Zara in a coincidence that wasn't lost on her. "You've developed such grace in your movements."
"Thanks," Sara replied, oddly shy under her mother's praise. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be watching."
"I was looking for you," Sandhya explained. "JARVIS said you were here. I'm glad I caught you—it's been too long since I've seen you practice. You've improved tremendously."
Sara ducked her head at the compliment, still conscious of the complicated relationship Sandhya had with her powers. Though her mother had always supported her training, Sara knew it came with an undercurrent of fear—fear for her safety, fear of what the world might think if they knew, fear of the burden such abilities placed on a young woman who should have been enjoying a normal adolescence.
"How was the foundation meeting?" Sara asked, deliberately changing the subject as they walked together toward the residential area.
"Productive," Sandhya replied, a touch too quickly. "We're finalizing plans for the September gala and discussing some new initiatives for next year."
"Sounds fascinating," Sara commented, keeping her tone neutral despite her certainty that "foundation business" was code for whatever secret project involved her.
"Mmm," Sandhya hummed noncommittally. "How was your session with Bruce this morning? Aniruddh mentioned you're working on manufacturing applications now."
"It went well," Sara confirmed, allowing the subject change. "The precision work is challenging but interesting. Different from combat training—more about sustained control than quick reactions."
"Balance is important," Sandhya nodded, unconsciously echoing Natasha's earlier observation. "Your powers have so many potential applications beyond fighting. It's good to explore all the possibilities."
They reached Sara's quarters, pausing outside the door. "Do you want to come in?" Sara offered. "I was just going to order dinner and review some notes before bed."
"I'd like that," Sandhya smiled, following Sara inside. "It's been too long since we had mother-daughter time without Aniruddh or the Avengers around."
As they settled in Sara's living area, ordering food and catching up on the smaller details of their lives, Sara was struck by how normal it felt—just a mother and daughter sharing a meal, discussing school and friends and future plans. The extraordinary circumstances of their lives—Sandhya's unorthodox co-parenting arrangement with Tony, Sara's powers, their residence in Avengers Tower—faded into the background of this simple, human connection.
"Are you nervous?" Sandhya asked later, as they were finishing their meal. "About meeting Zara in person?"
Sara considered deflecting but opted for honesty. "Terrified," she admitted. "What if it's awkward? What if the connection isn't the same in person? What if she's disappointed when she meets the real me?"
"The 'real you' is extraordinary," Sandhya stated firmly. "And not because of your powers or your intelligence or who your father is. You're extraordinary because of your heart, Sara—your capacity for compassion, your determination, your integrity. Zara already knows that part of you, even if she doesn't know everything."
"But is it fair?" Sara asked quietly, voicing the concern that had been growing as Zara's visit approached. "Starting a relationship with so many secrets between us? Sometimes I feel like I'm lying to her, even when I'm not actually saying anything untrue."
Sandhya's expression softened with understanding. "Relationships are complicated, bangaaram. Everyone has parts of themselves they hold back until they're sure they can trust the other person completely. Your situation is more extreme than most, yes, but the principle is the same."
"I guess," Sara sighed, not entirely convinced.
"Think of it this way," Sandhya suggested. "You're not hiding who you are—you're revealing yourself gradually, as the relationship develops. There may come a time when you trust her enough to share everything, but that doesn't have to be now, at the beginning."
Sara nodded, finding some comfort in her mother's perspective. "I just want to be as honest as I can be."
"And you will be," Sandhya assured her. "About the things that matter most—how you feel about her, what you value, who you want to become. The rest—the powers, the Avengers connection—those are circumstances, not your core identity."
They talked late into the evening, moving from Zara to Harsha and Sesha's lives, to Sandhya's work with the foundation, to Sara's studies and training progress. By the time Sandhya left with a warm hug and a reminder about their planned shopping trip the next day, Sara felt more centered, more confident about navigating the complex intersections of her various identities.
Later, lying in bed, Sara's thoughts drifted between anticipation of Zara's visit and curiosity about the secret "foundation matters" that had the entire tower buzzing with barely concealed excitement. Whatever was being planned, Natasha had said it would ultimately be Sara's choice how to respond—which suggested something significant, something that would affect her future in meaningful ways.
As she drifted toward sleep, Sara's mind conjured images of what might be coming: official recognition of her training progress perhaps, or maybe a more structured role within the Avengers support system. Or could it be something bigger? Something that would transform her from a teenager with extraordinary abilities into something more defined, more purposeful?
The possibilities swirled in her mind as sleep claimed her, dreams mixing fire and music, combat and creation, the extraordinary and the ordinary aspects of her increasingly complex life.
Across the tower, in a secure conference room, Tony, Steve, and Bruce reviewed the latest designs for Project Inferna, the holographic display showing a sleek combat suit in deep reds and golds—a subtle acknowledgment of Sara's connection to Iron Man while establishing her own distinct identity.
"The fire-resistant fabric is testing at 300% above our initial projections," Bruce reported, gesturing to the data scrolling beside the design. "It should withstand her maximum recorded flame temperature with minimal degradation."
"And the integrated sensors?" Tony asked, zooming in on specific sections of the suit. "They need to be sensitive enough to monitor her vitals and power outputs without interfering with her movement or concentration."
"We've miniaturized the technology from your latest suit," Bruce confirmed. "Minimally invasive but comprehensive monitoring. Similar to what we use in her training gear, but more advanced and fully integrated with JARVIS's support systems."
Steve studied the design thoughtfully. "It looks good," he acknowledged. "Professional, practical, age-appropriate while still being formidable. Have we addressed the concerns about public perception?"
"Fury's handling the PR angle," Tony replied, making a final adjustment to the suit's collar design. "Initial introduction will be controlled, supervised missions only, with full Avengers backup. Public narrative will emphasize her training and preparation, the ethical framework we've established, and the fact that she'll be eighteen before taking on any major independent operations."
"And Sandhya?" Bruce asked quietly. "Is she still on board with this timeline?"
Tony's expression shifted, revealing a rare glimpse of vulnerability beneath his usual confident facade. "She's... accepting the inevitable, I think. She knows Sara's potential, knows she can't—shouldn't—be held back forever. But it's not easy for her. For either of us."
Steve nodded understanding. "It never is, watching someone you love step into the line of fire. But from what I've seen of Sara's progress, she's more prepared than most of us were when we started. You've both done right by her, Tony—given her the training, the support, the ethical foundation to use her abilities responsibly."
"That's what I keep telling myself," Tony sighed, closing the holographic display with a gesture. "Anyway, we're on track for the birthday reveal. Final suit production starts next week, training simulations are being developed, and the official Avengers support role documentation is being prepared."
"She's going to be incredible," Bruce said quietly, with the certainty of someone who had witnessed Sara's growth firsthand. "Not just because of her powers, but because of who she is."
Tony nodded, his expression a complex mixture of pride, concern, and determination. "She already is."