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Sparks still danced in the air like dying fireflies across the half-ruined mainframe room of Stark Industries. The scent of scorched metal and shattered circuitry clung to every wall. Natasha Romanoff stood in the center, her twin Desert Eagles gleaming in the low light, faint curls of smoke still trailing from the barrel of one. Wanda Maximoff hovered beside her, red chaos energy curling along her fingertips like silk.
Behind them, the central mainframe hissed and wheezed, half-destroyed. The USB was already full and retrieved. The schematics, the Arc Reactor blueprints, the entirety of J.A.R.V.I.S.' AI core—all secured.
Then the blast door of the room blew open.
Iron Man streaked through the cloud of smoke, repulsors glowing, his suit pulsing with newly-forged defiance.
"Two hostiles detected," J.A.R.V.I.S. announced in a clipped, irritated tone. "Power levels unknown."
Tony hovered a few feet above the floor, eyes narrowing beneath the visor. "You two must be the psychos that wrecked my mainframe. I'm here to return the favor."
Natasha stepped forward with the cold confidence of someone who'd come prepared. Her coat flared as she moved, both pistols holstered at her hips like golden fangs. Wanda floated just above the ground behind her, crimson magic casting wild shadows against the steel walls.
Tony didn't wait. His palms lit up, repulsor blasts firing with a high-pitched whine. The bolts roared forward—but Natasha darted sideways, slipping between the attacks as sparks blew apart consoles behind her. She was already drawing her pistols before she landed.
"Time to switch to explosive .50 cal rounds," she said, ejecting the current mags with a sharp click and sliding in glowing, red-tipped ammunition.
Wanda tilted her head. "Why not armor piercing?"
Natasha cocked one gun. "Because it's not fun to kill Tony Stark right away."
The first volley from her Desert Eagles hit with the sound of thunder. The bullets struck Iron Man's chestplate, detonating in tiny controlled bursts. Armor panels blew off in jagged chunks—one shoulder guard sheared clean, another thigh plate blasted off in a spiraling arc. Sparks and pieces of shattered armor littered the floor.
Tony grunted as his suit staggered. "You're packing a lot of hate for someone who didn't even RSVP."
Wanda raised a hand. Red magic flaring to life.
Her fingers curled slowly.
Tony's armor began to glow.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Tony asked, chest heaving.
"She's heating the plating!" J.A.R.V.I.S. warned.
Wanda's hand twisted—and with a violent yank of magic, chunks of his suit tore away like wet paper. The chestplate exploded off his torso. Metal groaned. His back servos ruptured. The legs of the suit locked, then collapsed as he fell.
He landed hard, coughing, arms barely able to lift himself from the floor. His arc reactor flickered, the housing half-destroyed. Beneath it, scorched fabric and bruised flesh.
Still he tried to rise.
Wanda stepped over him, her boot pressing lightly against his ribs as red light pooled around her eyes. "You really should've stayed in the sky."
She crouched down, her hand closing around the arc reactor embedded in his chest.
Tony gasped, fingers clutching at her arm—but too late.
With a cruel tug, Wanda tore it out.
He screamed as his body arched, then collapsed, the prototype arc reactor now pulsing in Wanda's palm like a stolen star.
"Sir…" J.A.R.V.I.S.' voice crackled weakly. "Stay with us… Emergency arc reactor en route… Hang in there…"
Natasha approached from the side, brushing her fingers along the smooth surface of the stolen tech.
"We've got the prototype now," Wanda said flatly.
Natasha nodded. "The prototype, the schematics, and the J.A.R.V.I.S. blueprint. Just like Kara wanted. We also stole plenty of other things as well what a great day."
Tony lay there, blood smearing across his lip as he looked up with blurry eyes. "You… evil… bitches…"
Wanda raised her eyebrows in mock thoughtfulness. "We are evil, aren't we?"
Natasha reloaded one pistol with a loud snap. "Damn right. We've earned it."
Wanda's magic opened a portal—a swirl of crimson light folding space open like a curtain.
Beyond it lay the throne room of Buckingham Citadel. Obsidian pillars glowing with lava veins. A river of magma flowing behind Kara's raised dais. And atop her throne, Kara Zor-El waited, one leg crossed over the other, smiling with approval from the shadows.
Tony's head lolled as he stared, barely conscious. "That's… badass…"
And then he passed out, breath hitching as the portal closed with a hiss.
The room fell silent again—shattered, empty, and smoking.
Tony Stark lay broken at the heart of his own company, the arc reactor torn from his chest, his chest ransacked by two ruthless queens in service to a far greater one. And in the distance, somewhere across the dark sea, the Empire of London burned a little brighter.
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