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  Floating in the sky, Tony Stark sed the chaotic se below. Obadiah Stane, in his hulking Ironmonger suit, was wreaking havo the streets, crushing cars and sending terrified civilians running in every dire. "Jarvis, report," Tony anded, his tone sharp yet posed.

  "Sir, Obadiah's armor is heavily armed and signifitly more powerful than the Mark III. His heat signature indicates he's running at maximum capacity," Jarvis respohe AI's calm voice trasting with the mayhem below.

  Tony gritted his teeth, his mind rag through options. He knew his suit wasn't built for sustained bat against something as brute-force as the Ironmonger, but he wasn't about to let Stane tinue his rampage. The world didn’t need another arms dealer—especially not one who was a walking tank. He angled his thrusters and dove towards the ground, firing a trated repulsor bst at the Ironmonger.

  The bst struck Obadiah squarely in the chest, f him to stumble back. For a moment, Tony thought he might have gaihe upper hand, but Stane recovered quickly, his meical suit abs the hit with only a slight scorch mark.

  "Tony!" Stane's voice crackled through the suit’s loudspeaker, filled with anger arayal. "You think this ends with you? You’re just the beginning!" He swung a massive arm, sending a parked car flying through the air, narrowly missing a family scrambling to escape.

  Tony dodged the debris, his heart pounding in his chest. "You’re out of your mind, Obie. This isn’t about business anymore—it’s about lives." His voice was firm, but he khat reasoning with Obadiah was a lost cause.

  Iron Monger unleashed a barrage of rockets, sending them hurtling toward the city streets without a sed thought. The explosioed in quick succession, tearing through parked cars and shattering storefronts. Tony’s heart ched as he watched the chaos unfold. He khat every sed wasted could mean more lives lost.

  “Jarvis, divert all avaible power to the unibeam,” Tony ordered, his voice te focused. He shot upward, dodging another rocket, then swooped down in a tight arc to get a clear shot at Obadiah. As he lined up his targetiicle, he spotted something out of the er of his eye—people on the ground, moving with ease through the debris. But they weren’t running from the dahey were guiding civilians out of the bst zone, keeping them safe.

  Tony didn't have time to process who they might be—he had bigger problems to deal with. “Hold on, Obie!” he shouted, his tone edged with frustration.

  The unibeam fired, a trated bst of energy shooting from his chest. It hit the Ironmonger dead ter, causing sparks to fly aal to groan uhe force. Obadiah staggered, his massive suit of armor struggling to maintain bance. For a moment, it seemed like Tony might have finally gaihe upper hand.

  But Obadiah wasn’t do. “You really think you stop me with that cheap trick?” His voice was ced with venom as he regained his footing, his heavy metal boots g the asphalt beh them. With a growl of frustration, he unched himself at Tony, massive fists swinging wildly.

  Tony barely had time to dodge the first punch, the force of the swing sending shockwaves through the street. He tered with a quick bst from his repulsors, but it was clear that this wasn’t a fight he could win through sheer power. He o outthink Obadiah, not just outfight him.

  "Jarvis, analyze the suit’s power core. I need a weakness," Tony anded as he circled above, trying to keep his distance from the Iron Monger’s relentless attacks.

  “Sir, the suit appears to be based on remnants of the Mark I,” Jarvis informed Tony, the AI's voice cutting through the chaos. “It should carry the same fws we overcame with the Mark II and perfected with the Mark III. High-altitude cold could cause a malfun.”

  Tony’s mind raced as he processed the information. High altitude—that was his way out of this mess. He had to get Obadiah into the sky, where the cold would do the work for him. But it wasn’t going to be easy; Obadiah was built like a tank, and ving him to follow was going to take more than just brute force.

  “Got it, Jarvis. Prepare for rapid ast,” Tony replied, his voice calm despite the pressure.

  He shot upwards, his thrusters bzing as he climbed higher and higher into the sky. Below, the Ironmonger hesitated for a moment, then followed with a burst of rocket propulsion. The heavy suit struggled to gain altitude, its design not optimized for the rapid climb Tony was f. But Obadiah was relentless, refusing to back down even as the air grew thinner and colder.

  “e on, Obie, just a little further,” Tony muttered under his breath, pushing his suit to its limits. His HUD dispyed critical data—altitude, temperature, power levels. He was cutting it close, but he had no choice. This was the only way to shut down the monster rampaging below.

  As they climbed higher, Tony’s breath misted inside his helmet. The temperature was dropping fast, and he could see the effects starting to take hold on the Iron Monger. Obadiah’s movements became sluggish, his punches less precise as the cold began to sap the power from his suit.

  “Tony!” Obadiah’s voice crackled over the s, filled with frustration and desperation. “You think this will stop me? I’ll crush you!”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Tony shot back, keeping his tone casual even as his heart pounded in his chest. He knew he had to time this perfectly—one wrong move, and Obadiah could take him down before the cold did its job.

  The Ironmonger’s thrusters sputtered, and Tony k was time to act. He cut his own thrusters, letting gravity take over as he began to plummet back toward the ground. The sudden drop caught Obadiah off guard, and for a split sed, the rger suit wobbled in midair.

  “Jarvis, how’s his power core holding up?” Tony asked, his voice tense.

  “Critical, sir. It won’t be long now.”

  Tony angled his dest, keeping an eye on Obadiah as the Ironmoarted to falter. “Good. Let’s finish this.”

  Jarvis's voice cut through Tony's thoughts, cold and precise. "Sir, we are critically low on power. The unibeam you fired to protect the civilians drained our reserves signifitly. If you attaow, you will lose flight capabilities. The probability of surviving the fall is less than 10%."

  Tony's mind raced, weighing his options. His instinct was to keep fighting, to do whatever it took to stop Obadiah, but the numbers didn't lie. "What should I do, Jarvis? I 't just stand by and watch."

  Before Jarvis could respond, a voice crackled through Tony's s, unfamiliar yet calm. "Let me hahis."

  Tony spun around in midair, his sensors quickly log onto the source of the voice. A man hovered a few feet behind him, seemingly defying gravity with ease. Fmes erupted from the stranger's palms a, holding him aloft without any visible tech. The sight immediately set Tony on edge. The man’s mask—a blend of dark wood and obsidian with glowing runes—cealed his identity pletely, and the e light that emanated from the eyes only added to the mystery.

  "Who the hell are you?" Tony's irritation fred, partly from the man’s sudden appearand partly from the fact that he seemed to be doing what Tony’s suit was built to do, but without the aid of any maery.

  The masked figure ighe question, his gaze fixed on the Ironmonger, who was still struggling in the freezing air. "You ’t take another shot without crashing, Stark. Let me finish this."

  Tony ched his fists ihe suit, fighting back his frustration. He wasn’t used to taking a backseat in his own battles, and he sure as hell wasn’t about to trust some masked stranger. "And why should I trust you? For all I know, you’re another one of Obie’s ons."

  A dry chuckle escaped the masked stranger. "If I were one of Stane's ons, you'd be scrap metal by now."

  Before Tony could respond, six more figures rose into the sky, eae cloaked in the same eerie garb. The only differeony could spot was the color of their glowing eyes—indigo, gold, azure, red, green, and purple. There were seven of them in total. Even through their cloaks, Tony's sensors could identify that two of them were women. He clicked his tongue in frustration. "Great, more of you."

  The figure with the purple eyes broke formation and flew straight towards Staony’s instinct was to interveo stop this unknown force from engaging, but he was outnumbered and low on power. His options were limited.

  The purple-eyed figure reached Obadiah’s suit, h just inches away. Tony watched, his HUD fshing warning after warning as he struggled tain trol of the situation. But before he could act, the figure pced a hand on the Ironmonger, and suddenly, the suit’s systems shut dowirely. The lights on Obadiah’s armor flickered out, and the massive suit went limp, all its pone in an instant.

  "Here you go, Stark," the masked figure said, almost casually, before hurling the powerless Iron Moowards Tony like a discarded toy.

  Tony’s eyes widened as the massive Ironmonger hurtled towards him, the suit's weight and momentum creating a serious problem. He knew catg it would drain what little power he had left. "Great, looks like I’m walking home," he muttered, brag himself for impact. With a grunt, he caught the heavy armor, his own suit groaning uhe strain as he struggled to stabilize them both in midair.

  The masked figure with the e eyes hovered nearby, watg with what Tony could only assume was amusement. Though the man’s face was hidden, Tony could swear he was grinnih that mask. "My associate sealed the Arc Reactor. I know you’ll try to unlock it yourself, but it’ll be useless. When you want it back—if you don’t destroy it first—you call us. For a price, of course."

  Tony’s grip tightened on the now-lifeless Iron Monger as he gred at the stranger. "And how am I supposed to find you, huh?" he snapped, sarcasm dripping from every word.

  The masked man chuckled, his voice carrying a casual fidehat grated on Tony’s nerves. "You’ll figure it out." With that, he turned and shot into the sky, the other six following close behind, their cloaks trailing like shadows in the wind.

  Tony watched them disappear, frustration boiling inside him. He didn’t like being out of trol, and these mysterious figures had just taken over his battlefield. “Jarvis, what the hell just happened?”

  “Sir, it appears my systems were temporarily breached. No sting damage, but an application was installed that allows you to call a specifiumber.”

  Tony’s brow furrowed. “Track it.”

  Jarvis responded almost instantly, “It’s your number, sir. The application funs upon activation. When it calls your number, it sends a ping to a location I ot track.”

  Tony gritted his teeth, his mind rag. Whoever these people were, they had the upper hand, aed it. "Great. Another mess to up." He gnced down at the Iron Monger, still clutched in his arms. "Let’s get this over with, Jarvis. Prepare for nding."

  As he slowly desded, Tony’s thoughts ed. He needed answers—who these people were, what they wanted, and why they’d decided to intervene. But first, he had to deal with the immediate fallout. Stane’s rampage had caused enough damage, and the media would be all over this in minutes.

  On the ground, Tony carefully set the Ironmonger down, taking a moment to catch his breath. His suit was nearly drained, and he felt the weight of exhaustion creeping in. The city around him was still in chaos, civilians scrambling to safety, police trying to restore order. And in the midst of it all, Tony Stark stood, feeling more like a man in a suit than the invincible Iron Man.

  “Sir, the authorities are en route,” Jarvis informed him, his voice calm despite the chaos.

  To a headache building behind his eyes. "Great, just what I his’ll make them push harder to take the suit from me." He muttered, rubbing his temple ihe helmet. "I should’ve stayed in the shadows like those bastards."

  “That would be wise, sir,” Jarvis replied with his usual polite detat.

  Tony rolled his eyes, sitting on the ground slowly. The st thing he needed right now was Jarvis agreeing with him. But the AI wasn’t wrong. This whole mess was going to be a PR nightmare. Not to mention the headache of dealing with Stane’s mess, the Ironmonger wreckage, and figuring out what those masked strangers had doo the Arc Reactor.

  As his metal butt touched down oreet, the sound of sirens began to close in from the distaoed his legs on the lifeless Iron Monger, its massive form slumping like a broken toy. He stared at the suit for a moment, feeling frustration and exhaustion. He would have to disma, study it—especially whatever they did to “seal” the Arc Reactor. That part still didn’t make sense. Magi his world?

  "Jarvis, start running diagnosti the Ironmonger. I want to kly what they did to it." Tony exhaled, knowing this was only the beginning.

  "Of course, sir. Beginning sow," Jarvis responded, initiating the diagnosis. Sparks flickered weakly from the battered armor, the suit's once-menag form now reduced to a heap of smokial.

  Tony barely had a moment to catch his breath when the familiar hum of a jet e through the noise. He turned just in time to see Rhodey’s VTOL desding, its powerful turbines kig up a gust of wind that scattered debris across the street. The jet nded smoothly, and the cockpit opened with a hiss as Rhodey jumped out, already in full military mode.

  "Tony!" Rhodey called, jogging over, his eyes sing the wreckage and the surrounding chaos. "What the hell happened here?"

  Tony, still catg his breath, gestured vaguely to the Iron Monger. "Obie decided to go full war mae. I had to take him down before he leveled half the city."

  Rhodey’s gaze hardened as he took in the destru, his jaw g. "Damn it, Tony. You okay?"

  "Yeah, I’ll live. The suit’s not happy, though," Tony muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "But that’s not the weirdest part. We had pany."

  Rhodey raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an expnation. Tony sighed, gesturing for him to follow. "Some group showed up mid-fight. Seven of them. They took down Stane like it was nothing and then vahey’re not gover, not anyone I’ve seen before."

  Rhodey frowned, gng at the Ironmonger. "And they just… helped you?"

  "Yeah, if you call tossing a two-ton suit of armor at me 'help.' They sealed the Arc Reactor, too. I ’t access it." Tony shook his head, frustration evident in his voice. "I don’t know what they are, but they’re definitely not normal. Some kind of energy manipution—nothing I’ve ever seen."

  Rhodey crouched beside the wreckage, his eyes narrowing as he ied the damage. "Great. Just what we need—more superpowered people running around with unknown agendas."

  Tony grunted in agreement, folding his arms as he watched Rhodey examihe Ironmonger. "Jarvis is running a full diagnostic. I o figure out what they did and why. But first, I’ve got to deal with the fallout from all this."

  Rhodey straightened up, giving Tony a pointed look. "You know the press is going to eat this up, right? 'Tony Stark takes down the rogue ons dealer'—but they’ll also ask why your pany was involved in the first pce."

  Tony grimaced. "Yeah, I know. Damage trol is going to be a nightmare. But that’s tomorrow’s problem. Right now, I o make sure nothing else is going to blow up in my face."

  Rhodey nodded, his expression softening slightly. "We’ll ha, Tony. Just… be careful. Whoever these people are, they might not be doh you."

  Tony gave a small, humorless chuckle. "When am I ever not careful, Rhodey?"

  Rhodey shot him a look that said plenty, but before he could respond, the sound of sirens in the distance sighe arrival of the authorities. To out a resigned sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Here we go. Time to put on a show."

  "Just remember," Rhodey said quietly as he turo leave, "you’ve got people watg your back, Tony. Don’t fet that."

  Tony hough his mind was already rag ahead to the press ferehe iable questions, and the deeper mystery of the masked figures. He could hahe media—he’d do a thousand times before—but this hreat? That was going to require more than just charm and quick thinking.

  --

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