"Z! Are you okay?!"
Peter Parker appeared out of nowhere, clutching a rusty steel pipe, and stared at Damian, who was staggering as he walked, his expression filled with concern.
Hearing this, Damian adjusted his mask and waved his hand.
"I'm fine—just follow the plan! This truck won't hold him down for long!"
"Okay, I'll do it right away!"
With that, he thrust the steel pipe into the truck's fuel tank.
Puff…
The tank was punctured instantly, and pungent diesel gushed out, quickly forming a slick pool on the road.
"Lighter!"
Peter Parker extended his hand toward Damian.
Damian patted his pocket and said,
"I don't smoke—I don't have a lighter."
"I don't smoke either!"
"…Fuck!" ×2
Suddenly, Peter's expression changed. Without a word, he grabbed Damian and bolted.
Behind them, Iron Monger roared furiously and unleashed a barrage of micro-missiles from his palms straight at the truck.
BOOM!
The explosion ripped through the vehicle, transforming it into a fireball. The ignited diesel spread into a sea of flame that engulfed the Iron Monger.
"Will this kill him?!"
After sprinting a safe distance, Peter set Damian down and turned back toward the inferno.
"I don't know. Don't worry about him now—go save your idol, Iron Man!"
Without hesitation, the two dashed toward the direction where Tony Stark was pinned.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield…
Tony Stark lay on the ground, convinced his left arm was about to snap.
The wreckage of a crushed car bore down on his Mark III armor, the metal groaning under the strain.
The energy indicator inside his helmet flashed a dire red—only 8% remained. Every last joule was being used to keep the shrapnel from piercing his heart.
"Hey—!"
Gritting his teeth, he strained with all his might to shove the wreckage off his arm, but the damaged servo system could only emit a feeble whine.
"Jarvis, give me another push!"
Tony gasped the command through labored breaths.
"I'm sorry, sir," Jarvis replied calmly in his ear. "The remaining energy is insufficient to support a power surge. I suggest you conserve what's left and await rescue."
"Then I'd better figure it out on my own."
Tony let out a bitter smile. Through his helmet's display, he surveyed the devastation: the battle with Iron Monger had nearly leveled the entire block. Nothing moved amid the burning wrecks and shattered concrete—no people, no animals, just ruin.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps broke the silence.
Tony looked up. Two figures emerged from the smoke—one covering his face with a red-and-white plaid shirt, the other wearing a mask.
From their builds, they were clearly still teenagers.
Tony's guard shot up. The armor's remaining power automatically rerouted to the palm repulsors.
"Hey! You two kids!" he called out sharply. "Disneyland's not this way, and the playground's closed! Get out of here—unless you want your dad to kiss your butt with his boot!"
Tony Stark shouted louder and louder, trying to make a gesture of repulsion with his still-moving right hand.
"Your voice is clear, so your lungs seem fine. Speaking of which, Mr. Iron Man—your armor's shock absorption system… is it hydraulic or magnetic?
How does one absorb impact when falling from high altitude? And how is the cooling system designed for the miniature ion cannon launcher in this gauntlet? And…"
The young man, his face still covered by his shirt, squatted down. Talking nonstop, he gripped the car chassis with both hands and lifted it effortlessly. The SUV—weighing at least two tons—rose as easily as a plastic toy.
"God! Are you even human?!" Tony Stark stared at Peter Parker in disbelief.
But Peter simply set the car aside with movements as light as if placing an empty cardboard box, and said calmly:
"Of course—if it's a fake bag—"
He suddenly turned his head, his eyes sharpening with instant seriousness, and shouted:
"Something's coming!"
In the same motion, he seized the car he'd just put down and hurled it backward with incredible force and speed.
"Look out—!"
The vehicle whistled through the air and slammed into something massive about twenty yards away with a deafening crash.
BOOM!
From the thick smoke, a hulking metal figure burst forth.
Iron Monger's outer armor had shattered, revealing a man with a crew cut and a square jaw inside the cockpit—but he looked utterly unnatural.
His skin glowed an eerie red, muscles knotted and veins bulging, as if a demon had crawled straight out of hell.
"Tony Stark—!! Do you think this is the end?!"
The crew-cut man charged forward with an inhuman, guttural roar, piloting the mangled Iron Monger.
Flames erupted from the mecha's legs, propelling the thirteen-ton war machine toward them at terrifying speed.
Cars and roadblocks were tossed aside like toys; the concrete road cracked and splintered beneath its thunderous steps.
Tony's mind raced—and in an instant, he spotted it: Iron Monger's exposed chest cavity housed a small, hastily welded arc reactor. Unstable, yes, but still powering the suit.
"Get down!"
Tony activated his armor's last reserves. The palm repulsor glowed blue, though the energy indicator had plummeted to a dangerous 5%.
"Look out—!"
A searing blue-white energy beam lanced through the air and struck the reactor dead center.
"No—!!"
BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOM—!!
A blinding white light erupted from Iron Monger's chest, followed by a devastating shockwave.
Damian felt a colossal force slam into him—but Peter Parker stood firm in front of him, shielding him from the blast. Without that barrier, he would've been thrown clear.
He didn't know how long passed before the ringing in his ears began to fade.
Groggily, Damian lifted his head. A scorched crater thirty yards wide stretched before him. Iron Monger—and the man inside—had vanished without a trace. Only smoldering fragments of twisted metal at the crater's edge remained as proof they'd ever existed.
Surveying the wreckage that now filled the street, the three finally exhaled in relief.
Tony Stark lowered his arm, then turned, glancing between Damian and Peter Parker.
"Look," he said, "your help was… technically useful. But next time you see something like this? Stay. Far. Away. Don't go charging in like you've got a hero complex."
He tapped the arc reactor in his chest—a few crisp metallic clinks echoing—and added with a smirk:
"Not everyone's got a high-tech amulet like mine, got it? Boy Scout."
With that, blue flames flared from his thrusters. He lurched into the air, wobbled a few meters above the ground, then quickly stabilized.
Peter Parker watched Tony's retreating back in silence for a moment, then turned to Damian and muttered:
"Honestly… when he's not talking, he's almost pleasant to listen to."
"…As long as you're happy."
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