"Mr. Stark! Look out—it's Ant-Man!" Peter reacted instantly, calling out the warning.
Inside his armor, Iron Man had just received a report from Friday, his AI assistant, and quickly activated the suit's fire suppression system.
"Oh, you found me?" Ant-Man's voice came through the comms inside the armor.
"You're the guy who can shrink, right?" Stark asked.
"No, no," Ant-Man replied. "I'm your conscience."
"Let's hope my conscience can survive a coolant flush," Stark chuckled.
"Whoa! Whoa! That's cold!" Ant-Man yelped as coolant sprayed through the system toward him.
He turned and tried to run, but there was no way he could outrun it.
Stark had designed the coolant system to stop dangerous overheating or fires caused by overloads or battle damage. It was fast—by design.
The coolant blasted Ant-Man out of the armor, sending him tumbling to the ground.
Meanwhile, thanks to a sudden surge from Wanda, Cap's side managed to create some distance from Stark's team.
After a quick discussion, they decided that Cap and Bucky would stick to the original plan and head for Siberia, while the others stayed behind to hold off Stark's forces.
But first, they needed a distraction—a big one—to keep everyone's eyes off Cap and Bucky.
Ant-Man volunteered.
"What the—what is that?" Peter stared in shock at the plaza.
Standing in the center was a giant Ant-Man, towering over thirty meters tall—practically Ultraman-sized.
"The little guy got big again. Weird… one second he's tiny, the next he's huge," War Machine grunted, dangling from Ant-Man's grasp.
"Nice work, Tic-Tac," Falcon called out.
Without a word, Ant-Man hurled Rhodey through the air—right over Peter's head.
Peter instantly fired a web, trying to catch War Machine, but the momentum pulled him forward instead, dragging him along for the ride.
Finally, with help from a passing bus, Peter managed to stop Rhodey's tumble and reel him back in.
"Good catch, Spider-Man," Rhodey said, before jetting back toward Ant-Man.
Ant-Man kicked the bus toward Peter, who braced, caught it, and stumbled several steps before stopping.
"Here—take it back!" Peter shouted, flinging it toward Ant-Man.
Stark and Rhodey tried to flank him, but against someone big enough to rip a plane's wing off and swing it like a sword, they couldn't get close.
"Anyone on our side got a special move they'd like to show off?" Stark asked, firing a volley.
"This doesn't even make sense!" Peter replied. "If his body gets bigger, shouldn't it be less durable? How's he tanking bullets?"
"You're fine with size-changing but that's where you draw the line? His mass increases too," Stark shot back.
"Okay, I've got an idea—let me try something."
Peter didn't fully get the physics, but whatever—he could figure it out later.
He darted toward Ant-Man, firing webs onto his ankles and joints, slowing him down.
Already sluggish at this size, Ant-Man now moved like an old man wading through molasses.
Seizing the moment, Peter shot more webs, circling him over and over until his legs were fully bound.
"Mr. Stark, and… uh—" Peter hesitated. He didn't actually know Rhodey's name, or "War Machine."
"Rhodey. I'm Rhodey. What's the plan?"
"Right. Mr. Stark, Mr. Rhodey—hit his chin at full speed, knock him out!"
"Got it," Stark said.
Ant-Man realized what they were doing, but bound up and exhausted from maintaining giant size, he couldn't stop them.
Truth was, this was only the second time he'd gone this big—the last time wasn't even close to this size. He was just a flashy distraction, not a powerhouse.
Duang!
Both suits slammed their fists into his jaw with full thruster force, sending him sprawling backward.
As he hit the ground, he shrank back to normal size.
"Nice work," Stark said, clearly impressed.
Peter flashed a victory sign. "Anytime!"
Boom!
Over at the helipad, a Quinjet roared into the air.
"Damn it," Stark and Rhodey cursed, taking off after it. Falcon joined in pursuit.
Peter just stood there. The fight had suddenly moved to the sky.
What kind of Spider-Man could fly?
Couldn't someone give him a ride?
Asking for a friend. Urgently.
"Hey, kid—little help?" Ant-Man groaned from the ground.
Peter stopped three meters away. "If I help you, does that make me a war criminal too?"
"…No! Of course not!" Ant-Man said quickly.
He tried to grow again, but the strain left him aching all over.
"Too risky," Peter said.
"I've got a daughter—Cassie. She's adorable. Want me to introduce you sometime?" Ant-Man grinned, half-joking, half-serious.
He liked this kid—brave, clever, talented.
Peter just stared. "Pretty sure your daughter wouldn't be thrilled to hear you say that."
Still, he walked over and helped him up—not for Cassie, but because it felt like the right thing to do.
They'd both pulled their punches in the fight, after all.
"I'm Scott Lang. You can call me Scott. And you?"
"Peter Parker. Just Peter's fine."
"Good, good. Strong kid," Scott said, patting Peter's chest.
Peter shuddered. "Please… don't do the creepy uncle thing."
—End of chapter—
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