Lock's strength was more than three times that of the Hulk, yet his weight was much lighter. And unlike the Hulk's clumsy, bull-like leaps, Lock made full use of aerodynamics, minimizing drag and maximizing momentum. His jumps weren't just powerful — they were precise, controlled, and blisteringly fast.
Every takeoff was like a cannon blast, the air cracking with a sonic boom as he launched hundreds of kilometers in a single bound.
After several massive leaps, Lock spotted two dark specks in the distance — F-22 Raptors closing fast.
"Tony," Lock called through the comms, "drop your altitude. Draw them down toward me."
"On it," Tony replied without hesitation. His suit folded its flaps, diving toward the deck in a controlled plummet.
The Raptors' pilots, thinking their target was attempting to flee, dropped altitude to pursue. They opened up with a storm of 20mm cannon fire, the rounds tearing into the dirt around Lock, kicking up sprays of dust and grit.
Lock didn't flinch. Instead, he calculated their speed and trajectory in a heartbeat.
Now.
Two blinding afterimages shot upward.
Boom. Boom.
Each spear struck true, punching directly into the Raptors' rear power compartments. Both jets instantly coughed thick black smoke and began to spiral, their engines dead.
With no choice, both pilots ejected.
By the time they parachuted to the ground, Tony and Lock were already long gone.
Minutes later, a rescue team arrived and could only stare in disbelief at the sight before them: two military-grade spears lodged deep inside the engines of America's most advanced fighter jets.
The report reached the base command almost immediately, and the general erupted.
"You're telling me two F-22s were shot down by spears? Are we at war with cavemen now?!"
He demanded to inspect the site himself.
When he arrived, even Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes could only stare in silence. The image was absurd — a primitive weapon defeating cutting-edge aerospace technology.
A technician examined one of the weapons, shaking his head. "Lieutenant Colonel, this isn't some high-tech alloy. From the hardness and flexibility, it's just… regular steel."
Rhodey could only sigh. "Oh, great. The White House is going to love reading that in the report — 'F-22s taken out by two ordinary spears.'"
Back at Tony's lab
Tony was in high spirits after their little intervention. He didn't realize, however, that the incident had also made Obadiah Stane — Stark Industries' vice chairman and secret weapons trafficker — more determined than ever to remove him.
Obadiah had been Howard Stark's business partner and Tony's mentor since childhood. While his share in the company was small, his ambition was not. For years, Tony's disinterest in corporate affairs had allowed Obadiah to consolidate power.
But Tony's sudden shutdown of the weapons division had cut directly into Obadiah's profits — and that was something he wouldn't forgive.
Lock, aware of the truth, decided not to interfere unless Tony asked directly. Better not to disrupt the natural course of events unless necessary.
"Tony, I want a suit like yours," Lock said.
Tony raised an eyebrow. "You? With your strength, what for?"
"Flight," Lock replied. "I can jump far and fast, but not over long distances. And hopping around isn't exactly… elegant."
Tony smirked. "Didn't have you pegged for a gentleman, Lock. But I'm pretty sure gentlemen don't invite themselves to live in someone else's home without asking."
Lock grinned. "Not only am I freeloading, but I want the upgrade for free, too. And I don't want what you're wearing now — Mk III is outdated. Too bulky, needs robotic arms just to put on."
Tony blinked. "You just took down two F-22s in your current setup, and you're calling it outdated?"
"I'm talking about design, not power. I want something I can wear and carry easily — ideally suitcase-sized. If I can't carry it myself, I might as well just keep jumping. And I want more thrust. I can handle far more G-force than you can — so push the acceleration."
"Acceleration's easy," Tony admitted. "But suitcase-sized? That'll take time."
"I'll wait. I know you'll make it happen."
Before Tony could respond, J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted.
"Sir, Miss Potts' last call was terminated. The final audio recorded was… a scream."
Pepper's voice followed over the speaker: "Notify Tony—ah—" Then static.
Tony's face tightened. "Pepper's been compromised."
"What happened?" Lock asked.
"Last time I found Stark weapons in the Middle East — weapons we supposedly stopped producing. That means there's a mole inside the company. I sent Pepper to investigate, and… she's in danger."
Lock gave him a knowing look. "And who in Stark Industries could secretly move weapons without you knowing?"
Tony hesitated. "…You're saying it's Obadiah? My father's partner? He helped raise me. That's impossible."
"When it comes to profit," Lock said flatly, "nothing's impossible. Wait — you'll have proof soon enough."
"I'm not waiting. If Pepper's in danger, I have to—"
Lock's eyes flicked to the security feed. "No need. He's here."
On-screen, a luxury car rolled up to Tony's mansion. Out stepped Obadiah Stane.
Lock stepped back. "I'll let you handle this. See his true face for yourself." With that, he vanished from sight.
Obadiah entered, exchanging pleasantries before subtly probing about the arc reactor in Tony's chest.
Tony, now wary, deflected every attempt.
Finally, Obadiah dropped the act. A piercing sound ripped through the room — an ultrasonic paralyzer. Tony collapsed onto the sofa.
"This," Obadiah explained, holding up a small device, "can drop an elephant in its tracks. I didn't want to kill you, Tony. But you shouldn't have sent Pepper to dig into my affairs."
He opened Tony's shirt, twisted the arc reactor free, and pulled it from his chest. Tony's body immediately began shutting down.
Obadiah admired the device like a priceless jewel. "With this, our weapons will dominate the market. Every suit powered by it will need our tech. Stark Industries will be the center of global power." He chuckled darkly. "Shame you won't live to see it."
He packed the reactor into his case and left.
Tony lay helpless, his body still paralyzed.
Lock reappeared, studying him.
"You… just going to watch me die?" Tony rasped.
"I thought you'd crawl to the lab yourself — there's a prototype reactor downstairs."
"I… can't… move…"
Lock sighed. One stomp of his foot and the floor gave way, dropping the sofa — and Tony — directly into the lab below.
Lock smashed open the display case, retrieved the prototype arc reactor Pepper had decorated, and slammed it into place.
Tony gasped for air, color returning to his face.
In Lock's mind, a system notification chimed: Save one life — reward: one recovery potion.
So if I hadn't stepped in… he really would've died.
Tony eyed him suspiciously. "How do you always know everything? If I didn't know you weren't the scheming type, I'd think you were the mastermind behind all this."