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The pitch-black night sky was torn apart by flames as two figures continuously fired missiles at each other.
One of them was entirely silver—a robotic battle suit that gleamed with an icy, menacing light.
The other was clad in red and gold—the unmistakable Iron Man, Tony Stark.
Inside his helmet, streams of data flickered rapidly across the interface.
J.A.R.V.I.S.'s calm, clear voice reported, "Sir, scans indicate that the enemy is fully constructed from Adamantium alloy."
"Your Iron Man suit hasn't been upgraded yet. Engaging head-on is not advisable."
"What!?"
"Full-body Adamantium!?" Tony's eyes widened in shock.
He immediately wanted to call Nick Fury for an explanation.
Motherf—! Was this some kind of joke? Did they think he, Tony Stark, was a pushover?
When he asked for Adamantium, S.H.I.E.L.D. made a thousand excuses. But now, the enemy shows up with an entire army of Adamantium-plated robots?
How the hell was that fair?!
That one-eyed bastard must have been hoarding it for himself!
But Tony knew this wasn't the time to argue. First, he had to deal with the enemy.
Dodging the Sentinel's attacks, Tony asked, "J.A.R.V.I.S., what's the situation inside?"
While he was dealing with Sentinels outside, his allies were locked in combat with an elite special forces unit inside the building.
And not just any special forces—this squad was trained specifically to take down mutants.
In the next second, several surveillance feeds popped up on his display, switching rapidly between different views.
Even with the fast changes, J.A.R.V.I.S. highlighted the key moments.
A towering, metal-skinned man was charging through enemy fire, taking bullets like they were nothing, knocking out special forces soldiers with single punches.
Tony estimated that this guy's defense was stronger than his own suit—probably not too far from Adamantium-level durability.
His expression darkened.
Since when was this world so full of overpowered freaks?
And then—another figure leaped into view, claws gleaming as they extended from his fists.
At first, Tony thought the only real monster out there was the Hulk.
Clearly, he was wrong.
This guy ignored the bullets tearing into his body, blood spraying wildly as he fought with pure ferocity.
Face twisted in a snarl, he slashed through a rifle with one claw while his other hand plunged straight into an enemy's chest. Then, with a vicious horizontal swipe, he split the poor guy in half.
Before he could even move on to the next target, Tony watched in horror as the wounds on his body completely healed—forcing out any bullets lodged inside.
What. The. Hell.
The moment he recognized Logan—Wolverine—Tony's face went completely black. Darker than Nick Fury's, even.
Regeneration like that? Fine, whatever.
But those claws?
Adamantium claws!?
Motherf—! Why did everyone except him seem to have Adamantium!?
And yet Fury had the nerve to tell him that Adamantium was in short supply?!
Short supply, my ass!
"That's it!" Tony muttered to himself. "Once this is over, I'm making a trip to Wakanda."
Tons of Vibranium just sitting there. Even if it was technically owned by Wakanda, what was stopping him from buying some?
Besides, Wakanda was sitting on a goldmine of Vibranium. Did they really think they could keep it all to themselves?
If he helped them hold off pressure from the world's superpowers, would it really hurt to share a little Vibranium with him?
As he continued leading the Sentinel in circles, his mind raced through the possibilities.
Luckily, these Sentinels were still in their early-stage models.
Aside from being made of Adamantium, their intelligence systems were laughably primitive.
Compared to J.A.R.V.I.S., they were like elementary school kids going up against a university professor.
The difference was massive.
So while the fight looked intense, Tony wasn't actually in any real danger.
"Sir, Miss Potts is asking about your dinner plans," J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted. "She's been waiting for you for half an hour."
Tony twitched.
"Alright, no more delays. I need to wrap this up fast," he muttered to himself.
"I'm not letting some oversized tin can ruin my date with Pepper."
Before he even finished speaking, his suit's shoulder compartment popped open, launching an EMP grenade.
It exploded midair, sending out a surge of electromagnetic waves.
The Sentinel only froze for a brief second before recovering, unfazed.
"Even EMPs don't work?" Tony raised an eyebrow but wasn't too surprised.
It made sense. If these things were designed to counter mutants, they'd obviously be built to resist all kinds of abilities.
"Alright, then," he smirked. "Let's see whose AI is better."
"J.A.R.V.I.S., find an opening. Get it to overextend, expose the weak points in its joints!"
The Iron Man suit sprang into action instantly.
Tony raised both arms, firing repulsor blasts directly at the Sentinel's head.
The blasts barely made a dent—just a burst of sparks as the machine tilted its head slightly.
But that was enough.
Tony's eyes lit up. "J.A.R.V.I.S., get the missiles ready!"
"Wait for the right moment, then blast its head at full power! Once it recoils, hit its neck with everything we've got!"
Outside, Tony was closing in on victory.
Inside, however, Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters was in deep trouble.
At this point, even Bobby Drake—Ice Man—was still just a student, too young and inexperienced to handle something like this.
And the rest of the students? Even worse.
The only real fighters were a handful of people.
And to make matters worse, Charles Xavier and Cyclops had gone to check on Magneto, who was still locked up.
Jean Grey and Storm (Ororo) set out to track down the mutant responsible for assassinating the Vice President.
Back at the school, only Wolverine and Colossus remained.
Even though the two of them were formidable fighters, taking on hundreds of highly trained special forces soldiers inside a complex building was no easy feat.
Some of the mutant students had already been captured, while others were hidden away by Nick Fury.
After all, Fury was the top spy in the game—he could hold out for a while.
But for how long…?
"How far are we from the secret exit?" Fury asked, his expression grim.
Rogue pointed to a corner ahead. "Just past that turn, then about 30 meters."
Damn it! Why didn't I think of calling Ron?!
Thirty meters?! Fury's eye twitched.
If Ron were here, he could teleport them in an instant… No! Even better—Ron could flood the entire Xavier mansion, drowning every enemy in sight!
But no, Fury had called in Tony instead. Not Ron.
Under normal circumstances, 30 meters would be nothing—just a few seconds' sprint. But right now, covering that distance meant facing a dozen heavily armed enemies.
And all he had was a damn pistol!
The assault rifle he'd snatched earlier? Out of ammo.
Damn it! Where's the backup?!
By the timing, they should be arriving any second now!
BOOM! RATATATATAT!
Suddenly, a fierce battle erupted outside.
Fury noticed the approaching footsteps retreating—his enemies were being drawn away. He cautiously peeked around the corner…
His one eye widened in shock.
"Motherf—!!!"
Captain America!?
No… not him. A damn good copy, though!
Who the hell is this?!
The figure was clad in lightweight metal armor, wielding a metallic round shield in one hand and a short blade in the other.
Moving like a ghost through the ranks of special forces soldiers, the newcomer deflected bullets with the shield while the short blade sliced through both weapons and men alike—cutting them clean in half.
Holy hell.
If Fury didn't know Steve Rogers was out on a mission, he'd have thought Cap had just arrived.
No normal human could do this. No way.
But who was he?
Then Fury noticed something else—the stranger wasn't alone. A squad of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents followed behind him.
Fury's confusion deepened.
"Director, are you okay?"
The mystery fighter had finished off the last enemy and now approached.
That voice…
Fury stared, unable to believe it. "Grant Ward?!"
Elsewhere, a different conversation was taking place.
Black Zetsu frowned. "Why do you need so many corpses?"
Still, he ordered White Zetsu to spread out across the ninja world, gathering bodies.
Ron shot him a glance. "You want your mother freed? Then shut up."
"Work harder, talk less. If I'm in a good mood, maybe—maybe—I'll release her early."
Oh, she'd be released all right. But whether she'd be alive or just a corpse? That was his decision.
After all, Black Zetsu only asked for his mother to be released—he never specified alive or dead.
"Anyway, just keep collecting bodies. I'll contact you when it's time."
Black Zetsu stiffened.
Wait… contact me?
Does that mean… he's leaving?!
So he gets me to do all this work for free, and now he's just bailing?!
Wait—
Before Zetsu could call out, Ron disappeared in a blur.
For a long moment, Black Zetsu just stared at the empty space where Ron had stood.
Ron might have the Rinnegan, but Zetsu didn't trust him.
Not one bit.
This guy had come out of nowhere, and Zetsu wasn't going to bet everything on him.
His plan was still in motion.
Madara Uchiha was dead—but his Rinnegan remained. That was Zetsu's real trump card.
Even if this plan failed, there'd be another.
He had waited over a thousand years. He could wait a little longer.
Determined, Black Zetsu vanished underground.
Meanwhile, Ron reappeared south of Konoha, near the borders of Sunagakure…