Chapter 512: Six Pillars

[Same Day | Evening]

In a private back room of Giorgio Baldi in Santa Monica–

–on a specific table sat a platter of grilled sea bass, a bowl of sweet corn agnolotti, and a bottle of San Pellegrino with two cut limes.

Robert Downey Jr. is spinning a fork between his fingers.

His phone lay face-down on the table; with a steady stream of notifications.

"You know...." Robert said, gesturing toward his vibrating device with the fork. "-my publicist called me and said, ’Robert, what on God’s green earth did you do at The Grove?’ And I told her, ’Alan, darling, relax. I performed an essential public service. I personally audited our director’s signature.’"

Regal chuckled softly, neatly slicing into a piece of sea bass. "And in doing so, you nearly caused a four-alarm stampede."

"A stampede of love and civic joy, Regal." Robert countered without missing a beat.

"Of course." Regal glanced up with a faint smirk. "I was more concerned about whether Rock would have to carry you out by your ankles or if bookstore security could wheel you away on a handcart before the crowd crushed you."

Robert barked out a laugh and reached for his water. "Please. Rock wouldn’t lay a finger on me. He loves me and even said my deltoids looked like classical Greek marble, so don’t try to poison our beautiful brotherhood just because you’re jealous."

Regal shook his head, still smiling, while Robert returned to his meal as though the entire incident had been nothing more than a minor public appearance gone slightly off-script.

For the next few minutes, they ate in easy, companionable comfort.

Between the international box-office domination of [Train To Catch], the unprecedented cultural storm surrounding [Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows], and the looming pre-production demands across LIE Studios, Regal had spent the last two months living inside an unyielding slipstream of legal filings, board meetings, and editing bays.

Sitting across from Robert in a quiet Santa Monica dining room was one of the few places where he could make his brain shut for a while.

However, since he was here, he might as well reveal it.

Regal set his cutlery down, picked up his napkin.

Then he leaned back against the cushions, watching Robert with a stillness that made the actor’s fork pause an inch above his pasta bowl.

"Robert... It’s time." Regal said evenly. "We’re officially starting Iron Man 2."

Robert froze, and the playful swagger vanished from his eyes in a fraction of a heartbeat.

"Fuck yes!" he hissed, slamming his palm against the table. "Damn it, Regal, I thought I would grow old waiting for you to say those words!"

Regal smiled, thoroughly entertained by his reaction. "Well, the wait is over."

"Yes!" Robert leaned across the table, pointing an index finger at Regal with barely contained excitement. "Give me the dates. I will pack a bag and move into the Burbank lot tomorrow morning. Hell, I will pitch a tent in your fucking studio if I have to. You say the word, and I will be standing on my mark."

"I hope you’ve at least had a chance to read the script I sent you." Regal said with a chuckle, waving a hand to coax him back into his seat.

Robert stared at him as though he’d just asked an absurd question. Regal had sent him the Iron Man 2 script months ago giving him plenty of time to familiarize himself with the material.

"Read it?" Robert repeated, settling back into his chair. "I have lost count of how many times I have read that thing. It feels like I have been sitting on that script for ages, waiting for you to finally give me the green light."

A faint memory surfaced of a kid named Copper standing alongside Rock, asking him for three autographs despite having neither a pen nor paper on hand.

Robert couldn’t quite remember the details anymore, but the encounter had clearly stuck with him in some fashion.

He sank back into his seat, exhaling a breath of vindication, though his right foot was already tapping an eager rhythm against the floorboards.

Then he paused, tilting his head with curiosity. "Who else is sharing the release calendar with me this year?"

Regal leaned his elbows on the table, loosely steepling his fingers. "On the Marvel side, Andrew gets his second outing in Spider-Man 2. And I will introduce [Thor] with his own origin film."

Alongside the Iron Man 2 script, Regal had already sent the Spider-Man 2 and Superman 2 scripts to their respective leads.

For now, however, this is the extent of his plans...

Robert nodded, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Brilliant. What about DC? Superman? Batman?"

"There will be new characters." Regal answered quietly. "The casting notices should be going out worldwide. For DC, we’re introducing [Wonder Woman], The Flash, and Aquaman."

Robert let out a whistle, shaking his head. "Three origins back to back? Along with Thor on the Marvel board? Who’s directing them? Don’t tell me you’re insane enough to think you can shoot all five."

"Nah, come on. I am not that not stupid." Regal said, reaching for his tea. "I sat down with Chris Columbus and Alexander before dinner tonight."

"And?" Robert leaned forward, genuinely intrigued. "How did that go?"

"I laid all six projects on the table: Iron Man 2, Spider-Man 2, Thor, Wonder Woman, The Flash, and Aquaman, then told them to pick whichever one spoke to them." Regal smiled faintly. "As I expected, neither showed the slightest interest in your sequel or Andrew’s."

Robert laughed softly, nodding in understanding. "Of course they didn’t. Sequels are high-pressure maintenance jobs. Visionary directors like them would rather build something new than inherit someone else’s world, unless they have a particularly compelling reason to return."

Regal nodded. "That, and both of them have a natural inclination toward mythology, grand spectacle, and the psychological depth of the DC universe. Chris was quick to choose Wonder Woman."

Robert’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Columbus? Really? You think his Harry Potter style will work for Wonder Woman?"

Regal smiled. "Chris understands myth and emotional depth. He wants to explore Diana’s journey from paradise into the horrors of World War I, where ancient mythology collides with human brutality. In his hands, No Man’s Land will be unforgettable."

"And Alexander?"

Robert had asked the question casually, but as he considered the conversation for a moment, something about it struck him as absurd.

They were discussing multimillion-dollar productions, some with the potential to earn billions, yet Regal was handing out projects as casually as if he were distributing chocolates.

"He took The Flash." Regal replied. "He’s fascinated by Barry Allen’s isolation, living so fast that the world seems frozen around him. He wants to explore the trauma of his mother’s murder and portray superspeed through disorienting, cutting-edge phantom photography."

"Man, this year is going to be a blast for movie lovers," Robert murmured, shaking his head in open admiration. "I can’t wait to watch them."

"I am getting to that." Regal continued, tracing an invisible timeline across the white tablecloth with his finger.

"First comes Wonder Woman, followed by The Flash two months later. Then we drop Iron Man 2, with Spider-Man 2 arriving a month after that. Next comes Aquaman, and finally, Thor."

Once again, Robert was struck by the sheer absurdity of it all.

Regal was laying out release dates for six major superhero films as casually as if he were planning a dinner party.

He followed the sequence, his mind already connecting the dots. "And once those six pillars are standing, you have got The Avengers on one side and Justice League on the other."

"Hopefully."

"Hopefully, my ass. I know you’re planning something big!"

"Might be."

"Tsk. Whatever." Robert leaned forward, pointing his fork directly at Regal. "But I have one glaring question, my visionary friend. I can see that neither Iron Man 2 nor Spider-Man 2 will be directed by you, and Chris and Alexander have already claimed their projects. So what the hell are you directing this year?"

Regal looked at him, a smile curling at the edges of his mouth. "I will be directing a film this calendar year, Robert."

"Just one?"

"Yes."

Robert narrowed his eyes. "Is it Aquaman? Or Thor?"

"Neither." Regal murmured. "I am keeping Aquaman and Thor in my back pocket for next year. Whichever one requires the heavier practical touch, I will direct myself. But this year, I am stepping completely off the Hollywood grid."

Robert blinked, caught off guard. "What does that mean?"

Regal set his glass down.

"It means that in about forty-eight hours, once I finish shooting my guest role in Friends, I will be boarding the Gulfstream at LAX and flying straight to Beijing."

Robert stared at him for four full seconds, his mouth slightly open.

"Beijing?" Robert repeated, his voice dropping into utter bewilderment. "The entire town expects your next directorial effort to be an Oscar chasing epic or another hundred million dollar comic book spectacle, and you’re flying to China?"

"I am."

"To do what, exactly? Meditate in the mountains?"

"I will be making a sports comedy with Jackie Chan about Shaolin monks playing association football." Regal said, completely deadpan.

Robert froze, searching Regal’s face for the punchline. When he found nothing but the same calm, unblinking expression, he dropped his fork onto his plate and threw his head back, laughing so loudly that a couple of diners at the next table turned to look.

"Are you high?" Robert wheezed, rubbing his temples. "A martial arts soccer movie with Jackie Chan?"

"Pre-production is already halfway done." Regal replied.

Robert stared at him for another moment before shaking his head and taking a sip of water.

"Hollywood is going to lose its mind over this." A broad grin spread across his face. "The trades will report that you have had a nervous breakdown. The major studios have been hoping you would disappear for good, and now you’re practically handing them the perfect story. I can already see the think pieces about the downfall of the boy wonder flooding every publication for the next six months."

"You think so?" Regal asked, smiling faintly.

"God, I love how your brain works." Robert sighed, lifting his glass of San Pellegrino toward the center of the table. "To Iron Man 2, to Diana and Barry, and to you getting kicked in the shins by monks in Beijing."

Regal laughed and raised his own glass, tapping it firmly against Robert’s.

"To the work, Robert."

"To the work." Robert echoed.

They finished their dinner in high spirits, talking late into the night about Iron Man future suits, repulsor sound design, and the logistics of training thirty acrobats on wire rigs.

Across the table, watching Robert sketch rough gauntlet designs on a paper napkin, Regal kept the deepest layer of the architecture quiet in his chest.

Robert knew the immediate moves. He could see The Avengers on the horizon; he could see the Justice League taking shape across the lot.

What neither Robert, nor the trades, nor any executive in Burbank could possibly comprehend was the true convergence waiting at the end of the road.

Two titanic pantheons, nurtured independently with absolute cinematic integrity under the single roof of LIE Studios. And once both teams had conquered the world, fought their wars, and captured the hearts of a generation, Regal would drop the final curtain.

A singular summit where Marvel and DC would collide on the silver screen in the greatest cinematic event human history had ever seen.

It wasn’t a fantasy, but just a schedule.

....

[To be continued...]

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