On the rooftop of a half-collapsed office building on the outskirts of the battlefield.
Sharon Carter crouched behind cover, gripping her walkie-talkie, her eyes locked onto the street below, which had been blasted into a lunar landscape.
The walkie-talkie crackled twice, and Black Widow’s voice exploded out of it.
“Sharon!
I’m three minutes out!
Report!
Has Iron Monger defeated Iron Man?!” Natasha’s tone was hurried, carrying clear impatience.
Sharon Carter opened her mouth.
She looked down at the battlefield.
Luke stood in the middle of a crater with his hands in his pockets, his white cloak fluttering in the smoke and dust, the two large red characters for “Justice” on his back glaringly obvious.
He was tilting his head, examining Iron Monger with the expression of someone visiting a zoo.
The corner of Sharon’s mouth twitched.
“No.” “What?!” “Iron Monger hasn’t defeated Iron Man.” Sharon paused, her voice complicated.
“He…
has been stopped by a superhuman.” There was silence on the other end of the walkie-talkie for half a second.
“What level of superhuman?
Ability type?
Combat designation?
Does S.H.I.E.L.D.
have a file on them?” Sharon took another look at Luke.
He was rubbing his chin, studying Iron Monger as if he were studying a menu.
“A file…
probably not.” “What about their ability?” Sharon took a deep breath.
“Uh, greasy?” The other end of the walkie-talkie was silent for a full three seconds.
“…What?” …
In the center of the battlefield.
Luke cast his eyes on the two-meter-plus tall hunk of iron in front of him, his hands still in his pockets, his expression as indifferent as someone waiting for a late food delivery.
Iron Monger’s optical lenses locked onto him tightly.
Its system was calculating frantically.
That last shot had a core temperature of three thousand degrees and a blast radius of fifteen meters; it had even melted the concrete.
This person had been standing at the epicenter.
Not a single hair on his head was bent.
Furthermore, the moment it fired, he had moved Tony from the ground to a rooftop fifty meters away.
That time window was no more than 0.3 seconds.
Iron Monger’s processor reached a conclusion it was unwilling to accept: this person’s speed was so fast that its system couldn’t even keep up.
“Who…
exactly are you?” Luke tilted his head, his eyes behind his sunglasses devoid of ripples.
“Huh?
Me?” He spoke in a casual, conversational tone.
“Just an ordinary person~ I was living my life just fine, and then suddenly, boom, boom, boom…
you scared the hell out of me.” Iron Monger’s mechanical hand tightened.
It didn’t believe it.
It didn’t believe anything.
A human who could remain unscathed in that kind of explosion didn’t exist.
“No matter who you are—” Iron Monger raised its right arm, the blue light of the Repulsor Ray gathering once more, energy readings skyrocketing, “You won’t block a second one.” On the rooftop.
Tony saw the movement.
His heart constricted violently.
“Look out—!!” The voice came from fifty meters away, a roar that cracked with strain.
Iron Monger ignored him.
The Repulsor Ray aimed at Luke.
But it wasn’t just the Repulsor Ray.
The central reactor in Iron Monger’s chest also began to glow.
All its energy converged on a single point.
“You all—” Iron Monger’s voice synthesizer emitted a distorted sound, filled with a manic excitement, “Die here!!” Energy poured out.
It wasn’t a Repulsor Ray anymore.
It was full output of its central energy.
A thick, blue-white beam of light erupted from Iron Monger’s chest, nearly two meters in diameter, its temperature instantly surpassing five thousand degrees.
The moment the beam swept across, a trench was carved into the ground, the asphalt on both sides of the trench vaporizing instantly.
On the rooftop, Tony’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.
He couldn’t move.
The armor was shattered, the thrusters were dead; he was just an ordinary person wearing broken scrap metal, unable to even jump off the rooftop to save his life.
The path of the sweeping beam would cover the entire building.
He was going to die.
Really going to die.
Then he felt a tightness around his waist.
A white thread wrapped around his waist and gave a violent tug— Tony was yanked away, flying through the air in an arc.
Behind him, that office building vanished into the beam of light.
It didn’t collapse.
It disappeared.
From its structure to its walls, from its steel beams to its foundation, the entire building was erased in the blue-white light.
Tony crashed onto a wrecked truck three streets away, his back smashing a human-shaped dent into it.
He grimaced in pain, but he was alive.
Crouching in front of him was a teenager in a red and blue spandex suit, the mask with big eyes slightly crooked, looking incredibly nervous.
“M-Mr.
Stark!
Are you okay?!” Tony looked at him.
Spider-Man.
That Little Spider from Queens.
“…Why are you here?” “I saw the news about a big explosion here and rushed over!
When I arrived, I saw you on the rooftop—” Spider-Man’s voice was fast and urgent, “I thought, since you can’t fly anyway, I might as well give you a tug—” “Stop.” Tony raised his hand.
“You saved me.” “Ah…
right.” Tony didn’t have time to be touched by him.
He turned his head to look in the direction of the explosion.
That area had already turned into a massive circle of scorched earth; all buildings within a fifty-meter radius had been wiped clean, not even ruins remained, only a flat, glass-like surface scorched into the ground, wreathed in wisps of smoke.
Iron Monger stood in the center of the scorched earth, the light from its central reactor slowly dimming, its body slightly overheated, vents hissing with white steam.
It laughed.
This time, it was a real laugh.
That strike had been with everything it had, without reservation.
Even if Iron Man had taken it at full power, he would have been reduced to ash.
That greasy man couldn’t possibly still— “Did you hit me?” The voice came from above.
Indifferent.
Curious.
As if asking how the weather was today.
Iron Monger’s mechanical cervical spine let out a creaking sound because it tilted its head up too quickly.
Luke was crouching on Iron Monger’s head.
Crouching.
Hands still in his pockets.
His white cloak hung down over the back of Iron Monger’s head, the two black characters for “Justice” facing Iron Monger’s rear camera directly.
Luke’s expression was serious and perplexed, as if he were truly contemplating a philosophical question.
“That was pretty loud just now, but it seems…
I didn’t feel anything?” In that second, Iron Monger’s system log recorded a line of data that its engineers had definitely never preset: Fear level—overflow.
This person.
When did he get on top of it?
Its sensors hadn’t captured any movement trajectory.
No speed afterimages, no air displacement, no heat changes.
It was as if this person had always been there.
Or rather, the act of him moving itself was not within the jurisdiction of the laws of physics.
Luke tilted his head nonchalantly, looking over Iron Monger’s shoulder to see Spider-Man supporting Tony three streets away.
The corner of his mouth curled up slightly.
Alright.
Finally did something human.
Iron Monger reacted.
No matter what this person was, crouching on its head was the greatest threat.
Its massive mechanical arm reached back to grab at the top of its head, its metal knuckles carrying the force to crush steel beams, the speed of its five fingers closing enough to crush a sedan in 0.1 seconds.
The palm closed.
Empty.
Luke was no longer on top of its head.
He was standing in front of Iron Monger.
Three meters away.
His hands were still in his pockets, his expression still that same infuriatingly relaxed look.
“I say~” Luke spoke, his tone slow and leisurely, like chatting with a neighbor.
“For a monster like you, can’t you just surrender~” Iron Monger’s optical lenses focused on his face.
“Otherwise, I’m really going to be scared~”
Maybe it’s not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
“And If you’re enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!”