The five Winter Soldiers hit Selene from every angle at once.
It was good tactics — timed, distributed, no single line of attack that could be isolated and countered. Against almost anyone else in the courtyard, it would have worked.
Selene tucked the Dragon Ball into her windbreaker in one smooth motion, keeping the case of Extremis vials secured under her left arm, and then she was already moving through them before any of the five could land.
One punch, short and precise — the first operative left his feet. Two kicks fired in sequence off the same pivot, catching the second and third across their midlines and sending them skidding across the courtyard stone. The last two came in together from opposite sides. Selene stepped between their lines, let both strikes miss by margins that barely existed, and dropped them with a single kick each.
Five people, two seconds, and none of them were standing.
Xialing watched from across the courtyard and exhaled slowly. "She's gotten stronger."
That was an understatement, but it was the kind she appreciated. The truth was that Selene had not been quiet since joining the Fraternity. The past three years had been Korin's chi methodology applied with the same obsessive precision Selene brought to everything — daily sessions, no shortcuts, building a foundation that her vampire physiology had made uniquely receptive to. And at Christmas, she'd claimed the Senzu Bean from the top of Korin Tower while Wenwu and Wanda were busy arguing about forty meters below the summit. Recovery at that level had a way of clearing out years of accumulated cellular damage and letting whatever was underneath operate at full capacity.
The result was currently standing in the middle of the courtyard looking faintly bored.
On the Paragons' side, the reaction was immediate. Wesley's symbiote spread across him in a dark ripple, his silhouette thickening and sharpening in under a second. Chen Haoran ignited — wings of compressed flame spreading from his shoulders, heat shimmer warping the air around him as he lifted off the ground and came forward fast.
He landed a step ahead of Wesley and pointed at the five operatives picking themselves up from the stone.
"You just attacked our captain. You want to explain that?" He looked them over, genuinely puzzled. "And who are you with, exactly?"
The five Winter Soldiers didn't answer. They stood and looked at the situation with the cold, thorough assessment of people running probability calculations, and the numbers weren't working in their favor. Their captain had shrugged off a coordinated five-man attack without taking a hit. The six other Paragons members were closing in, all of them carrying scouter readings that put them in ranges that would have triggered commercial unit failures. And on Tony Stark's side, a fleet of Iron Man suits continued to hold position above the courtyard in a loose cordon.
The mission objective — retrieve the Dragon Ball intact — was no longer achievable.
One of them made brief eye contact with the others. Then they turned and began a controlled withdrawal toward the manor's perimeter wall.
"Hey." Chen Haoran took a step forward. "I asked you a question. Are you—"
"Let them go."
Selene's voice was quiet but carried. Chen Haoran stopped.
She'd read them as government or military — the discipline, the gear, the complete absence of any organizational insignia. Whichever agency had sent them, they'd failed their objective and were extracting cleanly. Killing them served no purpose she could identify.
Chen Haoran looked like he had strong feelings about unanswered questions, but he held position.
Across the courtyard, something shifted on the blackened flagstone where Tony's suit had detonated. The heat shimmer above it intensified, then resolved — Killian pushing himself upright, the Extremis running its full reconstruction cycle, methodically reversing the blast damage piece by piece. His suit was gone. His skin was still running orange in patches. But he was standing.
JARVIS spoke in Tony's ear before Killian had fully straightened. "Sir. Killian is back up."
Tony was already moving his hand. Three suits broke from the overhead formation and descended into a tight ring around Killian, arms raised, power readings active.
"Killian." Tony kept his voice even. "You're done. Stand down."
Killian stood in the center of the ring and took a long look around. The suits in front of him. The Winter Soldiers gone. Tony Stark at the edge of the formation. Beyond him, the Paragons and the Ten Rings still holding their positions.
He ran the math. If it were just Tony — even Tony in the suit — he would have tried for it. Gone high-temperature, forced a self-detonation, hoped the blast radius was wide enough to take the man with him. But these suits were running automated targeting, and the enclosed formation meant any detonation pattern hit himself first. The variables didn't produce a survivable outcome. They didn't produce a useful outcome.
Killian lowered his arms.
Tony exhaled. He didn't let it show, but the relief was real. He flagged another suit from the formation with a gesture, and it came apart mid-air and wrapped itself around Killian with the same mechanical efficiency as the last one — except this time Tony had selected a model with a self-destruct yield calculated specifically for the target. If Killian so much as started running a sustained temperature spike, JARVIS had standing orders.
Killian was locked, contained, and not going anywhere.
Tony had come here to catch the man behind the Mandarin. He had the man. The Dragon Ball had gone to Selene in the process, but the primary objective was secured.
Selene stood at the edge of the ring and looked at Killian in his new enclosure, and thought about something else entirely.
She thought about Eddie's briefing before the flight down, the way he'd laid out the stakes with the particular calm he used when something actually mattered to him.
"Selene, you're the Paragons' captain. Everything we do under Red Ribbon reflects on the boss. This opportunity matters — not just tactically, but legally. What we're building is the right for the Paragons to operate in national security spaces as a recognized body. Not a superhero team that law enforcement politely ignores. Something with actual standing. If you can, take the Mandarin into custody directly. It doesn't matter that other forces are moving. What matters is that we have something to show Congress."
She had told him she'd do her best. At the time she wasn't sure what that would look like.
She looked at the Dragon Ball she'd secured. Then at Tony Stark.
"Tony Stark." She held his gaze. "Do you want this Dragon Ball?"
Tony's answer was immediate. "I need it. Name your price."
He didn't fully understand what Selene was doing, but he knew better than to let uncertainty slow him down when the answer was obviously yes.
Shang-Chi's head came up sharply. He took half a step forward and opened his mouth.
Alexei put a hand on his shoulder before he could speak. The Red Guardian glanced toward the manor entrance with a meaningful expression. "Shang-Chi. Go get the Mandarin we pulled from inside."
Shang-Chi stared at him. Looked at Selene. Looked at the Dragon Ball.
He closed his mouth, turned, and walked back toward the castle.
Chen Haoran watched him go, then looked at the Dragon Ball, then at Tony, then at the general chaos of the courtyard, and finally said, in a tone of genuine bewilderment: "Can someone explain to me what exactly that thing does?"