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'Inner dialogue/thoughts'
"Normal dialogue"
[System]
[Diary entries]
~ At the same time with Tony, in his mansion in Malibu, Los Angeles ~
Tony Stark hit the terrace hard, his suit grinding against the concrete with a sound that made his teeth ache. Sparks flew from his left gauntlet, and his HUD flickered like a dying television, red warnings flooding every corner of his vision.
He lay there for a second, staring up at the night sky, the rain pelting against his faceplate.
'Well, that could have gone better.'
He forced himself to roll over, servos whining in protest as he pushed himself up to one knee. The suit felt heavier than it should, like the thing was fighting him instead of helping him. His muscles burned underneath the metal shell, and every breath came out ragged.
"JARVIS," Tony managed, his voice hoarse, "tell me something good."
"I'm afraid the news is far from optimal, sir." JARVIS's voice crackled through the damaged speakers. "Suit power is at 8% and dropping. Multiple systems are offline, including the auxiliary cooling system, left repulsor calibration, and the emergency beacon. I would strongly advise against further combat."
Tony grunted as he finally got to his feet, swaying slightly. "Yeah, well, that's not really an option right now, is it? What about Stane? Please tell me the fall turned him into a very expensive pancake."
There was a pause that Tony didn't like. JARVIS never paused unless the news was bad.
"The Iron Monger suit's design specifications indicate enhanced structural integrity and heat-resistant plating. Theoretically, Mr. Stane should survive atmospheric re-entry, though the impact may have caused significant damage to secondary systems."
"Theoretically." Tony repeated the word like it tasted bad. "Great. So the bad guy has a bulkier suit, more power, and he's probably really pissed off now. You know, just once I'd like the villain to make my life easy. Just crash and burn, you know? Nice and simple. But no, they always have to make it dramatic."
He limped across the terrace toward the shattered doorway that led back into his mansion, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond. The rain was coming down harder now, washing away the dust and debris from the earlier exchange. Somewhere in the city, people were probably having a normal night.
Going to parties, watching movies, kissing in the rain.
Meanwhile, Tony was running on fumes and waiting for a metal giant to crawl out of a crater and try to kill him again.
'Focus, Stark. What do you have left?'
He pulled up what remained of his HUD, the display glitching every few seconds. The inventory read like a shopping list from hell. Missiles, depleted. Micro-rockets, depleted. Flares, depleted. Shoulder-mounted guns, offline. The unibeam was technically functional, but firing it would probably drain whatever juice he had left.
All he had were his repulsors, and even those were running on borrowed time.
"Sir, I'm detecting movement approximately 200 meters to the northeast under the rubble pile," JARVIS interrupted.
Tony's head snapped toward the direction, his faceplate zooming in automatically. At first, there was nothing but debris, chunks of concrete and twisted metal piled high where the Iron Monger had crashed.
Then the pile shifted.
A low, mechanical groan echoed across the night air as something massive began to rise from the wreckage.
First came a hand, massive and armoured, fingers curling around a slab of concrete and tossing it aside like a toy. Then an arm, then a shoulder, and finally the hulking form of the Iron Monger emerged from the destruction.
Tony's damaged suit seemed pathetic in comparison.
Sleek, yes. Elegant, sure.
But he was a sports car staring down a tank.
'Okay. This is fine. I've been in worse situations.'
He couldn't actually think of any at the moment, but that wasn't the point.
"TONY!"
Stane's voice roared through the Iron Monger's speakers, distorted and amplified into something barely human. The massive suit began to move, not walking but charging, those tree-trunk legs pumping with surprising speed for something so bulky.
Tony didn't have time to think. He just reacted.
His thrusters fired, sputtering and coughing as they launched him upward and to the side. The Iron Monger barreled past him, missing by inches.
CRASH.
Stane plowed straight through the wall, disappearing into the mansion's interior. Tony landed hard again, his boots scraping against the floor as he steadied himself.
"JARVIS, I need eyes inside."
"Scanning now, sir. Mr. Stane has entered the main living area. He appears to be... sir, he's directly below you."
Tony looked down at his feet.
The ground trembled.
BOOM.
Before he could move, two massive hands smashed through the floor beneath him, fingers closing around his leg with crushing force. Tony barely had time to swear before he was yanked downward, through the terrace, through what used to be his bedroom ceiling, and sent flying deeper into the mansion.
He hit something, hard, probably a wall or a couch or maybe both, and everything went white for a second. When his vision cleared, he was lying in a pile of debris, the remains of his living room scattered around him.
"Ow."
Tony tried to stand. His suit responded for half a second before something sparked, something hissed, and his left leg gave out entirely. He dropped to one knee, gasping.
"Great. Of all the times..." He slammed his palm against his thigh, trying to force the joint to respond. "JARVIS, get the suit working. Now."
"I'm attempting repairs, sir, but the damage to the left servo motor is extensive. I recommend-"
BOOM.
The ceiling above him shattered as Stane's armoured form descended, landing with enough force to crack the marble floor beneath him. Dust and debris rained down as the Iron Monger straightened to its full, terrifying height.
Tony stared up at the machine that used to be his mentor. His father's friend. The man who had tried to have him killed.
"Well," Tony muttered, struggling to his feet, "this is going to suck."
Stane didn't give Tony time to recover. The Iron Monger surged forward once again, one massive fist swinging toward Tony's head with enough force to take it clean off.
Tony was barely able to duck as he stumbled backward, putting a decorative pillar between himself and the monster.
"Oh Tony." Stane's voice echoed through the Iron Monger's speakers, dripping with condescension. "You think you can just build a legacy and leave me in the shadows? I made you!"
Tony darted to another pillar as Stane's fist came through the first one, stone shards exploding outward.
"Correction," Tony shot back, his breath coming hard, "you stole my tech, beefed it up, and skipped all the finesse. That's not making, that's copying with extra steps."
Stane laughed, the sound harsh and mechanical. His next swing demolished another pillar, and Tony felt the vibration through his failing suit. "Always with the jokes. Always the funny man, Tony. Let's see how funny you are when I rip you out of that tin can piece by piece."
Tony rolled as Stane barreled through the space where he'd been standing, the Iron Monger crashing through another pillar like it was made of cardboard. The mansion was being torn apart around them, decades of memories reduced to rubble in seconds.
'Keep moving. Use the space. His suit's bigger, heavier. He can't turn as fast.'
Tony weaved between columns, ducking low through a doorway that Stane had to smash through to follow. The tight spaces of the mansion's interior worked in Tony's favor, if only barely. Every time Stane swung, he destroyed more of the architecture, but he also lost precious seconds adjusting his bulk.
"You know what your problem is, Tony?" Stane growled, stalking after him. "You never understood responsibility. You were born with a silver spoon and a golden legacy, and you spent your whole life squandering it. Someone had to clean up your messes. Someone always had to clean up after you."
Tony fired a repulsor blast at an overhanging chandelier, bringing it crashing down on Stane's head. It didn't stop him, didn't even slow him down, but it bought Tony another second to move.
"And that someone was you, right?" Tony called back, circling around a fallen column. "The long-suffering mentor, putting up with the genius brat? Please. You wanted my father's company the second he died. I was just in the way."
Stane's response was a roar of rage and a sweep of his arm that sent a chunk of debris flying.
It caught Tony square in the chest.
The impact sent him flying backward, crashing through what remained of a wall and slamming into the next room. Pain exploded through his ribs, and his HUD flickered dangerously.
"JARVIS," Tony gasped, trying to push himself up, "I can't keep stalling forever. Status?"
"Power at 5%, sir. Critical failure imminent. I strongly advise-"
"Not helpful." Tony cut him off, his arms shaking as he forced himself to his knees.
"Sir, I should mention that a man named Phil Coulson approached Ms. Potts earlier. He indicated his organization would be sending reinforcements."
Tony's heart skipped. "Reinforcements? What kind of reinforcements?"
"Unknown, sir. However, given the timeline-"
CRASH.
Stane burst through the wall, his massive form filling the doorway. The Iron Monger's faceplate seemed to be grinning, if a machine could grin.
"Running out of room to run, Tony."
Tony backed up, his damaged leg dragging. Stane advanced slowly now, savouring the moment.
"You're too small to see the bigger picture," Stane continued, his voice dropping to something almost thoughtful. "You always were. Stark Industries was mine to mold. Mine to shape into something greater. And you? You were just a speedbump."
His hand shot forward, smashing through a decorative wall. Tony twisted away, the blow missing him by inches, close enough to feel the displaced air against his metal face.
"It's funny," Tony said, his voice weaker than he wanted it to be, "for all your talk about the company being yours, you seem to have forgotten something."
He raised his palm and fired a repulsor blast directly into Stane's chest.
The blast was weak, barely a fraction of what it should have been, but it created distance. Tony stumbled backward as Stane absorbed the hit.
"The company is called STARK Industries. Not STANE Industries. Kind of an important distinction."
Stane didn't even flinch. Instead, he walked forward, deliberately taking another weak repulsor blast to close the gap.
Then his hand shot out and caught Tony's wrist.
The grip was crushing, metal groaning against metal. Tony felt his suit's gauntlet crumple slightly under the pressure.
"And by the time I'm done with you," Stane said, his face close to Tony's faceplate, "there won't be any living Stark left to argue the point."
Desperation surged through Tony. He had one shot left.
He activated the unibeam.
The concentrated beam of energy erupted from his chest plate, slamming into Stane's torso at point-blank range. Stane bellowed in pain, releasing Tony's arm as the force threw him backward.
But the cost was immediate.
Tony's HUD went dark. His suit's servos locked up entirely. He collapsed to his knees, then to his hands, barely able to keep himself from face-planting into the debris. To save Tony, JARVIS had the suit's face mask retracted so that Tony would not suffocate within his suit.
"Power... depleted..." JARVIS's voice was barely a whisper now, fading. "Sir... I recommend..."
The voice cut out.
Tony couldn't move. His suit was dead weight around him, a metal coffin. He could only watch as Stane recovered, the Iron Monger's armour scorched but still functional.
Stane approached slowly.
"You know," Stane said, standing over Tony's prone form, "I really did hope you'd make this harder. For old times' sake."
He raised both fists above his head, preparing the killing blow.
"Goodbye, Tony."
CLANG.
Something metallic struck Stane's raised arms with tremendous force, throwing off his aim. The object ricocheted off his armoured forearms, pinged off the wall behind Tony, and spun back toward them.
A figure dropped from above, landing in a crouch between Tony and Stane. The figure's hand shot out, catching the spinning object with ease.
Tony's eyes widened.
It was a shield. A round shield, painted with a star.
Stane stumbled back, his massive form suddenly uncertain. "What the-"
The figure straightened to his full height, the shield raised defensively. He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing some kind of tactical suit that Tony had never seen before.
"That's enough."
- End of Chapter 91 -
E/d: Hope you enjoyed the new sequence compared to the first version! With Tony now out of the fight, we'll now see America's Ass vs Stark reject! Unless. . .