Marcus had paid the price for his earlier carelessness — now it was time for Tony Stark to pay an even greater one.
Tony's Iron Man armor had fully engaged into combat mode. Beneath the sleek gold-and-red helmet, his expression was hidden, but Marcus could easily imagine the smug smile on the billionaire's face. The armor's radiant colors gleamed like molten gold under the light — a perfect balance of art and lethality, beauty and destruction.
It was hard to believe such a thing was the work of human hands. It looked more like divine craftsmanship — a miracle forged into metal. And indeed, when Tony donned that armor, he possessed the terrifying might to challenge gods themselves.
Words were meaningless now.
Standing before that steel titan, Marcus felt an icy dread crawl through him — a primal instinct warning him of the power that could annihilate him in seconds.
From Tony's palms, bright golden light began to condense — a blinding radiance that could have shamed the sun. Marcus instantly recognized the danger. His left arm twisted and morphed into a massive metallic shield, which he raised just in time.
"Zzzzz—!"
Twin beams of concentrated energy burst forth from Tony's palms like twin lances of molten light. The high-intensity heat seared against Marcus's shield, turning its surface crimson before melting it outright.
This was no ordinary repulsor blast — it was at least fifty percent stronger than the one Marcus had endured in their first encounter.
In just a week, Tony had improved his armor that much. It was a testament to his genius — the mind of the greatest inventor in the Marvel world.
Sparks flew as Marcus's heels dug trenches into the concrete floor, molten iron dripping from his arm like blood. After several grueling seconds, Tony finally ceased fire, the twin rays narrowing into points before fading away.
But Marcus's arm was gone — everything from the elbow down had melted into a pool of glowing slag.
"Kid," Tony's voice came through the comms, sharp and cocky, "you're facing the smartest man on Earth. Try to remember that."
Marcus clutched his mutilated arm, smirking faintly. "Do you ever stop congratulating yourself for five seconds, Stark? Or do you really think you get to play god?"
Tony laughed — loud, arrogant, and careless. But his amusement was cut short when Marcus, using his remaining arm, reached into the still-melting wound and yanked out three burning-hot shuriken forged from his own molten flesh.
He hurled them with tremendous force — three red-hot arcs slicing through the air like falling stars.
"I'm not the clown pretending to be a god," Marcus hissed.
Tony reacted instantly. His targeting system locked on, both repulsors firing in quick succession. Two of the spinning blades exploded midair, showering sparks across the room. The third streaked toward his chest reactor — only for Tony to clap his hands together, crushing it effortlessly between his palms.
Still, the attack had served its purpose.
Marcus closed the distance in a blur, his right arm morphing into a high-frequency blade that shimmered with vibrating energy. The silver edge glowed red-hot, cutting through the air with molten precision.
High-Frequency Slash!
"BOOM!"
A streak of blazing light tore through the air like a ribbon of magma — but it hit nothing.
Before Marcus could connect, Tony had already triggered his thrusters and shot upward, soaring to the high ceiling of the underground chamber. Suspended in midair, the Iron Man armor hovered like a mechanical angel of judgment. Flames from his boots wreathed him in smoke and fire, forming a glowing halo around his figure.
Tony gazed down at Marcus with the cold arrogance of a god.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be a god?" he said, voice distorted slightly through the speakers. "I'm the most brilliant man alive. I'm not playing god, kid…"
The thrusters flared brighter, casting blinding reflections across the chamber.
"…I've always been one."
Twin beams of golden plasma erupted from his palms again — divine retribution descending like lightning. Marcus barely had time to react, morphing his hand into a shield and bracing for impact.
The blasts slammed into him with apocalyptic force. The air screamed as light consumed everything. Marcus could only watch as his arm — and then his shield — melted away inch by inch under the unbearable heat. He couldn't even move, only endure, his jaw clenched, every muscle straining to remain upright.
It was like being crucified beneath the sun.
When the blinding storm finally ended, the chamber was silent except for the crackle of molten metal cooling on the floor.
Marcus knelt on one knee, coughing violently, spitting up blood. Both arms were gone now — the right melted past the shoulder, leaving nothing but blackened flesh and embers.
Tony hovered above him, unimpressed. "Well, I think we can agree on one thing," he said lightly. "You can't beat me, kid. Just give up — I'm a lot gentler than Fury."
Marcus raised his head, blood running from his lips. "Remind me…" he rasped, "…to surrender after you've actually won."
Before Tony could reply, the impossible happened.
From the charred stumps of Marcus's shoulders, new limbs began to form — black tissue sprouting, twisting, solidifying into metal once more. In mere seconds, two flawless new arms flexed at his sides, glinting faintly in the glow of the molten debris.
Tony froze. "…Regeneration? Oh right — that little trick."
He snorted, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter. All it means is I get to break you again."
Before he could fire another blast, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s calm voice interrupted through the comms.
"Sir, if I may — that last attack also destroyed the Mark VI prototype unit you were testing in this facility. Repairs will be… difficult."
Tony blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
He glanced down — the remains of one of his prototype armors lay scattered across the floor, reduced to slag by his own repulsor fire.
"Great," Tony muttered with a groan. "I just vaporized a billion-dollar suit. Fantastic."
Despite his irritation, he couldn't resist a rueful chuckle.
Marcus slowly rose to his feet, the faint glow of renewed strength burning in his eyes.
The battle wasn't over yet.
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T/N:
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