Boom!!
The golden-red Mark III armor was hurled back again, its sleek shell now scarred with deep dents and scorch marks. Inside, Tony Stark grimaced as another impact rattled through the suit. His stomach churned. At this rate, he'd be vomiting in zero gravity before he could even consider a counterattack.
"I swear," Tony muttered under his breath, "I'm building a tank next time."
Towering above him, the Iron Monger armor—piloted by Obadiah Stane—marched forward like a steel colossus. Each thundering step brought with it a new wave of dread. With mechanical strength, the giant suit gripped Mark III by the leg and slammed Tony back and forth like a rag doll, denting cars and smashing pavement.
Inside the Iron Monger, Obadiah's voice crackled through the speakers, full of pride. "You may have designed it first, Tony, but mine is superior in every way!"
Tony rolled his eyes, despite the ringing in his head. "Says the guy who put a nuclear reactor in a beer keg."
With a final crash, Iron Monger's heavy foot slammed down on the Mark III's chest. Alarms blared in Tony's HUD. "J.A.R.V.I.S, concentrate all energy into the chest repulsor!"
"Right away, sir."
The arc reactor's glow intensified. But before Tony could blast free, a sudden crack echoed across the battlefield. A sniper round, moving at uncanny speed, arced through the air—curving mid-flight—and slammed into Iron Monger's helmet. The bullet detonated, sending the massive armor stumbling backward.
Freed by the blast, Tony activated his repulsors and launched into the air, smoke trailing behind. "J.A.R.V.I.S, what the hell was that?!"
"A modified sniper round, sir. Trajectory originated from the northeast rooftop. The bullet changed course midair before impact."
Tony blinked. "We're talking magic bullets now? Great. What's next, a talking raccoon?"
On the rooftop in question, Robert adjusted the scope on his rifle, the barrel still warm from the shot. Next to him, a high-end digital camera continued rolling.
He had been tracking the Mark III's field test. But watching Stark get pounded was more brutal than he anticipated. "Man," he muttered, "it's like watching a genius billionaire get dunked on by a forklift."
He peered through the camera lens, carefully zooming in on Iron Monger and Stark's aerial maneuvers. "This footage is gold. I'm talking viral gold. Maybe even Oscar-worthy."
Just then, a streak of gold and red came hurtling down from the sky.
"Uh-oh."
With a heavy clang, the Mark III crashed onto the rooftop—right in front of Robert.
"Backup power," Tony wheezed.
The arc reactor reignited, and Tony rose slowly to his feet. Then J.A.R.V.I.S's voice chimed in.
"Sir, there's an individual directly in front of you."
Tony looked up—and recoiled.
A masked man stood before him, holding up a magazine cover with Tony's own face pasted over a wrinkled Halloween mask.
Robert gave a little wave. "As you can see, I am Tony Stark."
Tony blinked, his expression unreadable behind the visor. "If you're Tony Stark... then who am I?"
Robert slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Relax, Stark. I'm the one who saved your ass down there. You're welcome."
"You were the sniper?" Tony asked, suspicion mixed with genuine curiosity.
"That's right," Robert said, patting his camera. "And this little baby just caught the whole thing. The moment the great Tony Stark got his butt handed to him. I'm talking full 4K footage. Gonna loop that moment you got powerbombed through a taxi at least three thousand times in Times Square."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Already uploading."
Tony considered blasting him, just for a second. But with his suit running on fumes and his curiosity piqued, he let it slide. "Why?"
Robert grinned. "Because you're Iron Man now. And this? This is the blooper reel America didn't know it needed."
Tony sighed, rubbing the side of his helmet. "I need a drink."
Robert offered a bottle of soda. "Closest I've got."
Tony groaned. "You're worse than the press."
Behind them, in the distance, Iron Monger was stirring again.
Tony turned to Robert. "You got another one of those magic bullets?"
Robert tapped the camera. "Sorry. Just the one. The rest of my gear's... well, still crowdfunding."
Tony chuckled despite himself. "Come on then, mystery man. Let's go crash this party—for real this time."
And with that, Iron Man and the masked sniper vanished into the shadows, the skyline of New York blazing behind them.
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