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Sorry for the delay over the last few days, guys.
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The sky above New York had become a furnace of fire and steel.
An F-22 Raptor screamed across the clouds—then erupted into flame. Its wing tore away midair, spinning like a broken blade. Black smoke billowed behind it as the fuselage spiraled downward. For a moment it seemed suspended between heaven and earth—
Then it detonated.
The explosion rippled across the skyline like a thunderclap.
Inside another F-22, Jack laughed.
"Woo! Woo!"
His voice echoed within the cockpit as he banked sharply, fingers gripping the controls with casual confidence. The jet vibrated violently beneath him, engines howling at maximum thrust. Through the canopy, Manhattan's burning streets stretched below like a fractured circuit board of destruction.
Missile locks shrieked.
Two missiles launched from ground batteries streaked upward, white trails carving the sky behind them.
They locked onto him instantly.
The warning alarm blared inside the cockpit.
Jack tilted his head slightly, watching the approaching missiles through the reflection in the canopy glass. They curved sharply, tracking every movement of the fighter.
"Persistent little toys."
Below, military units had deployed in full scale. Armored divisions lined the avenues. Mobile missile launchers rotated upward. Artillery units locked coordinates.
Their objective was singular:
Eliminate Jack.
Jack grinned.
He released the controls.
Then—
He jumped.
The instant his body left the cockpit, the two missiles slammed into the F-22.
The jet exploded in a bloom of fire behind him.
Fragments of burning metal rained downward.
On the ground, soldiers shouted.
"He jumped! Open fire!"
Gunfire erupted in synchronized volleys.
Thousands of bullets tore upward toward his falling body.
Jack did not flinch.
The bullets reached within one meter of him—
And stopped.
They hung suspended midair like metallic raindrops frozen in time.
The wind rushed around him. Smoke drifted below.
Jack smiled faintly.
"You're really too warm," he said softly. "Sending me so many gifts."
He snapped his fingers downward.
The bullets reversed direction instantly.
They shot back along their original paths.
Screams followed.
Rows of soldiers collapsed, blood splattering across pavement and armor alike. Helmets rolled. Rifles fell.
But the remaining troops did not retreat.
"Missiles! Artillery! Fire! Fire!"
The ground trembled.
Shells launched.
Missiles streaked skyward in clusters.
The sky filled with smoke trails converging toward him.
Jack's pupils shifted slightly.
"Trying to kill me with these?"
The projectiles halted against an invisible barrier.
For a heartbeat, they hovered.
Then—
They turned.
And returned.
"Run! Run!"
The order came too late.
Explosions engulfed the military lines.
Fire consumed armored vehicles.
Shockwaves shattered nearby structures. Windows imploded. Entire facades collapsed into dust and rubble.
Flames spread outward in violent arcs.
The cityscape transformed into a blazing inferno.
Through the smoke, the green supercar appeared at high speed.
"Jack! Get in!"
The roof panels opened.
Jack descended smoothly, landing with perfect balance into the driver's seat.
"Crosshairs. Move."
"Yes, old boss."
The engine roared.
The car surged forward, blasting through heat waves and smoke, driving straight through a sea of fire. Burning debris bounced off reinforced panels as they accelerated out of Manhattan.
Behind them, New York burned.
---
California.
Malibu.
Cliffs overlooking the Pacific.
The ocean stretched endlessly beneath a pale blue sky, waves crashing rhythmically against jagged rock. Perched atop the cliff stood a villa of modern glass and steel—sleek, opulent, commanding. Its design whispered wealth and power at a glance.
Inside, a projection screen glowed.
Tony Stark stood before it, a glass of green juice in his hand.
The news anchor's voice trembled with urgency.
"This morning, the New York Broadway incident shocked the entire world. Law enforcement and military forces engaged Jack in full-scale pursuit. The results are catastrophic. Police units destroyed. F-22 fighters lost. Armored divisions eliminated. Preliminary casualty estimate: 5,300. Economic loss: ten billion dollars."
Tony's jaw tightened.
The glass shattered against the floor.
"Jack…"
His voice dropped to a growl.
"I will kill you."
Hatred burned in his eyes—intense, focused, personal.
His father's voice echoed faintly in his memory.
Howard Stark once told him there was only one man he truly feared.
Jack.
Tony clenched his fists.
"There is no one I cannot deal with," he muttered. "If you feared him… I won't."
Jarvis' calm tone filled the room.
"Sir, anger significantly impairs judgment."
"I know."
Jarvis continued, "During World War II, Jack injected the Super Soldier Serum. That alone cannot explain his current strength. He has been hiding for decades. His growth has been… extraordinary."
Tony's expression hardened.
"I'll still kill him."
On the projection, the anchor declared:
"Jack has displayed godlike power. He is humanity's greatest enemy. Who can defeat him? The world waits for that hero."
"Miss Potts has arrived," Jarvis noted.
Tony turned.
Pepper Potts entered through the glass doors, blonde hair immaculate, posture sharp. She carried a folder of documents, concern evident in her eyes.
"You should rest," she said gently. "You're injured. Don't push yourself."
---
Below the cliff.
The ocean rippled quietly.
A green supercar floated just beneath the surface, stabilized.
Jack, Alice, Ada, and White Queen stood atop the submerged vehicle platform.
The villa loomed above them.
"That house has an advanced early-warning system," White Queen said calmly. "Entering rashly will trigger detection."
Jack smiled faintly.
"Trash system. Hack it. Shut down everything. Power, surveillance, all of it."
White Queen closed her eyes.
Digital streams of information pulsed invisibly through networks.
After several seconds, her brows furrowed.
"There's resistance. An AI system."
"Jarvis," Jack said.
Inside the villa—
"Sir," Jarvis spoke urgently. "An external force is breaching my command center. I am unable to resist."
Tony's eyes widened.
"That's impossible."
Suddenly—
Darkness.
Every light shut off.
Monitors died.
Systems failed.
Pepper's voice trembled. "What's happening?"
Tony's fists clenched.
"Let's check."
---
Inside the grand hall—
Soft natural light filtered through the glass walls, illuminating leather furniture and modern sculptures.
Jack sat comfortably on a genuine leather sofa.
A bottle of red wine in his hand.
He poured half a glass for Alice.
Half for Ada.
White Queen stepped forward indignantly. "I want some too."
"Children drink milk," Jack replied without looking at her.
White Queen pouted.
"Bullying me again."
Footsteps approached.
Pepper Potts' voice echoed through the dim hall.
"Who are you? How did you get in here?"
Alice looked toward her.
"Pretty," she said lightly. "Jack… is she today's target?"
The ocean wind roared faintly outside.
And the confrontation began.