Taking advantage of the chaos to block off the last of Killian's enhanced thugs, Tony didn't waste the opening.
He rushed into the control room, hoping to finally rescue Pepper.
But inside, waiting like a final boss on his throne, was Aldrich Killian himself.
"Of course," Tony muttered under his breath. "Can't save the girl until I beat the big bad. Classic."
He still felt confident. After all, he'd come loaded for war with an entire arsenal of remote-controlled suits.
As a billionaire genius meta with a suit for every occasion, he was used to having a few dozen extra lives.
Unfortunately, reality didn't care about his optimism. In just a few brutal seconds, Killian dismantled three of Tony's suits like cheap toys.
Killian wasn't just strong—he was practically built to tear through armor, carving through Tony's high-grade gold-titanium plates as if they were tinfoil.
Each strike was like a malicious scalpel, slicing apart repulsor cores and power conduits.
Watching pieces of his tech rain down, Tony couldn't help thinking, 'Seriously? The alloy in that suit could shrug off tank shells, and this guy's karate-chopping it like warm butter. Is he using some cosmic cheat code?'
It wasn't just the strength. Killian's body healed instantly from every dent or burn Tony managed to land.
Compared to that regenerative overdrive, Tony felt like a gamer trying to beat a raid boss with half his health bar.
"Tony," Killian drawled, seizing Tony by the arm. His flesh was molten hot, glowing with Extremis energy.
With a single swipe, he cleaved Tony's armor in half. If Tony hadn't ejected at the last second, he'd have ended up as scrap metal himself.
"I can't believe it. I spent over a decade building my revenge plan around you, and you're this pathetic?"
He raised his flaming hand again. "Face it. I'm stronger. Soon SHIELD, the metas in Academy Ciry, the entire world—they'll all kneel."
"Mind if I cut in?" came a calm voice from the side.
Killian turned and scowled at the newcomer—a neat, slightly balding man in a black suit, holding a badge almost lazily. "Who the hell are you?"
"Agent Coulson. SHIELD level eight," he said evenly. "And I'm here to back up our favorite billionaire. Also, because you were monologuing like a B-rate movie villain, I decided to handicap myself by letting you keep one hand."
"Coulson, this guy's not like the goons outside," Tony called out, struggling to his feet. "Think of him as Extremis on steroids."
Killian snarled and lunged.
His arm flared up, superheated past 3000 degrees, as he aimed to crush Coulson's neck.
Coulson didn't flinch.
He simply tightened his right fist, then threw a short punch that collided with Killian's palm.
There was a hideous crack. Killian reeled back, clutching his hand, several knuckles visibly shattered.
"How... how the hell..." Killian gasped.
His Extremis strength and heat should have reduced a normal agent to vapor.
"Huh. Interesting," Coulson mused.
As Killian's fingers re-knit, he charged again, only to be met by another clean right hook that crumpled his jaw.
"This doesn't make sense!" Killian howled. "This is imposible"
"Nothing's imposible." Coulson blocked a searing kick and slammed his right hand into Killian's ribs, snuffing out the heat as if he'd flipped a cosmic switch.
His hand glowed faintly—the Right Hand of God, it was the ability that Coulson awakened when Ethan saved him from Loki's stab. Any supernatural energy it touched simply ceased to exist.
"Cool off, would you?" Coulson warned.
Then he swung again.
Killian didn't stand a chance. Coulson weaved through his desperate attacks, his right hand nullifying every flame burst or molecular edge.
Within minutes, Killian was left bruised, bloody, and unable to regenerate.
Tony, who'd been bracing for his own death a moment ago, could only stare.
"You done yet?" Killian rasped, spotting a pistol on the floor.
He dove, grabbed it, and fired.
Not at Coulson, but past him—toward Tony.
The bullet grazed Coulson's cheek. Blood trickled down. Coulson immediately threw up his hands. "Whoa, hey! Easy! Don't get trigger happy."
Because despite all that god-tier meta suppression, a regular bullet still worked just fine.
His Right Hand only negated powers.
Killian blinked.
Then he stared at his gun like it was a miracle artifact. "Wait... you're kidding me."
"Okay, you know what? This is officially time for our bulletproof cavalry to handle it." Coulson shoved Killian aside and ducked behind cover.
"Coulson, don't call me that," came a dry voice overhead.
A woman in sleek black combat armor dropped from above, the impact cracking the floor.
Melinda May. Her skin shimmered briefly with liquid metal as she stood.
Killian, eyes wide, pumped bullets into her.
They ricocheted harmlessly.
He snatched up a shotgun and blasted her at point-blank, tearing holes through her torso—but instead of blood, silver fluid spilled out and reformed.
May didn't even wince.
Her arm transformed into a blade of flowing adamantium.
She lunged, driving it through Killian's shoulder and pinning him to the console.
Compared to Coulson's abrupt charge and flat ending, Melinda and Killian's clash felt almost poetic.
Each strike between them seemed like it carried a deeper meaning, testing each other's limits and beliefs.
Melinda's body had become a living liquid metal arsenal. She could morph her arms into razor-sharp blades or hammer-like fists.
Ordinary hits barely scratched her, even when Killian's punches pierced straight through where her heart should be.
But Killian's Extremis-enhanced cells could burn hot enough to vaporize steel, reaching over 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit.
That heat made even Melinda wary.
Still, he was clearly struggling. Without his extraordinary healing, he'd already have been sliced to ribbons. His molten hand strikes couldn't match the precision of Melinda's blades.
Meanwhile, Coulson lingered nearby, waiting for the perfect shot to finish Killian off.
Tony finally caught his breath and powered up a new suit, desperate to reach Pepper before it was too late.
Killian saw him and, unable to break free of Melinda, slammed a concealed trigger on his chest.
"BOOM!" A thunderous explosion ripped through Pensacola Harbor. Killian had rigged the whole control room to blow.
"Pepper!" Tony was hurled back by the shockwave, eyes going wide with horror. Amid the twisted metal and flames, he spotted Coulson and Melinda—she'd turned her body into a protective shield to save them. But there was no sign of Pepper.
Then, through the smoke, Killian staggered out.
His body was shredded and face burned beyond recognition, but Extremis clung stubbornly to life.
"Tony... looking for the Mandarin?" Killian's voice rasped as he limped closer. "I AM the Mandarin. Your arrogance gave birth to this nightmare. I'll haunt you forever—"
WHAM! A metal beam smashed into Killian, pinning him to a wall. Pepper stood there, eyes glowing, chest heaving.
"Pepper, you're okay!" Tony blurted out.
But Pepper's glare was feral, and her skin glowed with fiery cracks. The Extremis virus had saved her—but left her unstable.
Tony slowly raised his hands. "Hey, I'm unarmed here." His suit was nearly trashed from the blast.
The last thing he needed was his fiancée accidentally ripping him apart.
Suddenly, one of Tony's stray armors locked onto Pepper and Killian, auto-targeting them as threats.
"Jarvis, stop! That's not an enemy!" Tony shouted. But the explosion had wrecked his comms.
Pepper didn't wait.
With a furious roar, she leapt high, plunging her glowing arm through the armor's arc reactor like a knife through butter.
She twisted midair, landing gracefully on the ruined shell. Then, spotting Killian advancing toward Tony, she tore off the armor's arm cannon and blasted Killian straight through the chest.
Killian barely had time to scream before Pepper lunged, gripping his throat in one hand, pressing the cannon to his chest with the other—and firing.
Killian's torso blew apart, finally ending him.
Tony just stood there, jaw slack.
Watching Pepper casually slaughter Killian who had nearly beaten all of S.H.I.E.L.D. was both terrifying and… kinda hot.
He'd planned to propose to her after this.
Now he hesitated. Of course, it wasn't like he could not marry her—he liked living.
"Marriage is the tomb of love," Tony thought grimly. "Dad was right. And he still married Mom. Was he just as terrified as I am now?"
He was already mentally designing new armor.
Not anti-Hulk. Anti-wife.
Pepper's burning eyes turned to him.
"Hey, sweetheart, it's me!" Tony practically dropped to his knees.
He'd promise anything—no more parties, no more booze, he'd hand over every account, anything to keep his girlfriend from accidentally ripping his heart out.
Pepper blinked. Slowly, the glow faded. Her playful smirk returned. "Oh my God… was I too violent just now?"
"No… no, not at all," Tony lied through clenched teeth.
While Tony and Pepper worked out their new power dynamic, Coulson and Melinda approached Killian's smoldering remains.
"Extremis regeneration is incredible," Coulson muttered. Killian's upper body was still trying to stitch itself together.
"Perfect research material," Ethan remarked, stepping in alongside Spider-Man.
Ethan had finished wiping out the last of Killian's desperate meta goons, using pinpoint-controlled atmospheric vectors to shear off limbs and snap necks.
By subtly manipulating air, he'd created invisible blades and enclose their accompanied explosion inside a bubble of air vacuum that dismantled the enemy without a trace.
Suddenly, Melinda turned with a blank smile. Two long knives formed from her arms. "Sorry—but he's our trophy."
"Melinda?" Ethan frowned, noticing the hollow look in her eyes.
She was under psychic control.
At the same time, Spider-Man lunged, shooting webs all over Ethan to bind him.
A phantom shimmered behind them—then dozens of knife slashes erupted across Ethan's body, fast and precise.
"DIE!" a brute laughed overhead, lifting a massive cargo container to crush them all.
"BOOM!" Three blood-red energy crescents shot out from Ethan's body, cleaving through the container and setting off a chain explosion.
Clearly, the container had been full of volatile fuel.
"We got that level-five meta?" the brute smirked.
"Or we just made him mad," the one-eyed psychic whispered. He felt a tidal wave of energy building that even the blast couldn't mask.
"The officer's prize is secure—pull back now before it's too late!"