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"STEEL FLYING KICK!"
Marcus's armored boots connected with the Iron Monger's chest plate at over a hundred miles per hour. The impact was catastrophic—a thunderclap of metal on metal that echoed across downtown Los Angeles.
The Iron Monger, caught completely off-guard with Tony still in his grip, took the full force of the strike. Obadiah's massive armor flew backward like he'd been hit by a freight train, Tony tumbling free as those huge metal fingers finally released their death grip.
The Iron Monger crashed through the roof's HVAC equipment, demolishing air conditioning units and ventilation systems, before momentum carried him clear over the edge. For a moment, the ten-foot armor seemed to hang in the air like something out of a cartoon.
Then gravity took over.
Obadiah plummeted forty stories straight down, the Iron Monger's weight turning him into a grey meteor. He hit the parking lot below with an impact that registered on seismographs three miles away, concrete exploding outward in a twenty-foot crater. Car alarms wailed for blocks in every direction.
Tony collapsed to his knees on the rooftop, one hand clutching his throat, gasping for air. His armor was dead weight around him now, every system failed or failing.
Marcus landed beside him in a perfect three-point stance, his Mark III still fully powered and functional. Through his faceplate, he was grinning.
"Nice kick, but unfortunately I'm not a beautiful woman, so I won't be falling into your arms," Tony wheezed, his voice hoarse from nearly being strangled.
"Hahaha! Who wants you, old man?" Marcus shot back, helping Tony to his feet. "I just really don't like that bald bastard."
Tony's expression twisted into something between amusement and annoyance, then turned serious as he looked over the edge. Down in the crater, unbelievably, the Iron Monger was moving. Slowly, painfully, but moving.
"We need to end this. He's not staying down." Tony's mind raced despite his exhaustion. He looked at the building beneath them, at the massive arc reactor that powered the entire facility. "I've got an idea. The main arc reactor—if we can overload it, channel all that energy..."
"Think that'll stop him? He's not stupid enough to just stand there," Marcus said, watching as the Iron Monger below finally stood, servos grinding, armor cracked but still functional.
"He will if he's chasing us. Especially you—you just drop-kicked him off a building." Tony was already moving toward the roof access door. "I'll get down to the reactor controls, set it to overload. You keep him busy. And whatever you do, keep him directly above the reactor when I give the signal."
Marcus watched the Iron Monger's jets begin to fire up below. "You sure about this?"
"No, but I'm out of power and out of options. We've got one shot."
As Tony disappeared down the stairs, manually releasing his dead armor piece by piece as he ran, the Iron Monger rose into view. The massive armor was scarred, dented, one optical sensor cracked, but Obadiah was still very much alive inside it—and furious.
"Who are you?" Obadiah's voice boomed through damaged speakers, distorted with static. "Where's Tony?"
Marcus stepped forward, repulsors charging. "What, you forget me already, Baldy? After I just kicked your shiny metal ass? I'm hurt. Guess I'll have to kick it again so you never forget!"
Recognition dawned in Obadiah's voice. "You. You're Marcus Reed. The nobody from the cave who ruined everything."
"That's right. The nobody who saved Tony's life. Twice now, technically."
"Tony gave you armor." Obadiah's voice dripped with disgust. "Of course he did. Handing out weapons of war like party favors."
"Hey, at least he gave it to me. You had to steal yours, remember? After your team of 'geniuses' couldn't figure out how to build one." Marcus's repulsors whined as they reached full charge. "What was it they said? Oh right—'We're not Tony Stark.'"
"ENOUGH!"
The Iron Monger's shoulder-mounted weapons spun up, unleashing a barrage of missiles. Marcus was already moving, jets firing, dodging with grace the larger armor could never match. He let Jarvis calculate optimal trajectories, firing countermeasures and interceptor micro-missiles with precision timing.
The rooftop exploded in a chain of detonations, concrete and rebar flying like deadly confetti. Through the smoke and chaos, Marcus danced between the explosions, his smaller, more agile armor weaving patterns the Iron Monger couldn't track.
Down below, Tony had made it to the arc reactor control room, still pulling off pieces of his dead armor as he ran. He burst through the door to find Pepper already there, having refused to leave despite his earlier warning.
"Tony! Oh my God, are you—"
"I'm fine, help me with this." He was already at the main console, fingers flying across keyboards. "We need to override every safety protocol. This thing was designed to prevent exactly what we're about to do."
"Which is?"
"Turn the arc reactor into the world's biggest bug zapper."
Above them, visible through the reinforced glass ceiling, Marcus led the Iron Monger on an aerial chase. He stayed just close enough to be tempting, just far enough to avoid those massive hands.
"That's all you got?" Marcus taunted through his external speakers, firing a repulsor blast that scorched across the Iron Monger's shoulder. "My grandma hits harder than you!"
Obadiah roared in frustration, firing his remaining missiles in a widespread pattern. Marcus spun through them like a dancer, one clipping his leg armor but causing no real damage.
In terms of pure firepower, the Iron Monger was superior—bigger guns, more missiles, heavier armor. But firepower meant nothing if you couldn't hit your target. The Mark III's agility advantage was absolute. Where the Iron Monger needed several seconds just to change direction, Marcus could turn on a dime.
Moreover, the Iron Monger's flight system was crude—powerful but wasteful. Every second in the air drained massive amounts of energy. Tony had designed the Mark III for efficiency. Marcus could fly for hours; Obadiah had minutes at best.
Marcus checked his HUD—he was still above fifty percent power. By his calculations, the Iron Monger had to be running on fumes.
"What's wrong, Obie? Looking a little sluggish there!" Marcus barrel-rolled around another missile. "Maybe you should have spent less on the guns and more on the battery!"
The Iron Monger's movements were indeed becoming labored. The armor that had risen so quickly from the crater now struggled to maintain altitude.
"Hey Tony," Marcus said through the private comm channel. "How's that trap coming? He's running out of gas up here."
"Almost ready," Tony's voice crackled back. "Bring him directly over the reactor building. You'll see the glass roof light up blue."
Marcus glanced down. They were already in position, hovering directly above the arc reactor. He could see the massive device through the glass, a glowing ring of power that had lit Stark Industries for decades.
"Also," Tony added, "you might want to get clear when I give the signal. Like, immediately clear."
"Define immediately."
"You'll have maybe three seconds before—"
"Before what?"
"Before a column of energy that could power Los Angeles for a month shoots straight up through anything in its path."
Marcus looked at the Iron Monger, hovering unsteadily twenty feet away. "Good to know."
The Iron Monger raised its arm, the Gatling gun spinning up with its last reserves of ammunition. But the barrel was glowing red-hot from overuse, the mechanism grinding.
"You know what your problem is, Obadiah?" Marcus said, rising slightly higher, positioning himself perfectly. "Besides the obvious baldness and daddy issues?"
"WHAT?" Obadiah snarled through his speakers.
"You're fighting yesterday's war with stolen technology you don't understand." Marcus's repulsors and chest reactor began glowing brighter. "Tony didn't just build a weapon. He built the future. And you? You're already the past."
The Iron Monger lunged forward with the last of his power, trying to grab Marcus like he'd grabbed Tony.
Marcus flew straight up, avoiding the grip easily. The Iron Monger hung there for a moment, directly over the center of the arc reactor, thrusters sputtering.
"Now would be good, Tony!" Marcus said.
Below, he saw the arc reactor surge with brilliant blue light.
Marcus inverted in midair, facing downward at the struggling Iron Monger. His palm repulsors and chest reactor all aligned, glowing with maximum charge.
"Obadiah!" Marcus called out. "Your end is here!"
He fired everything at once—both palm cannons and the unibeam from his chest, three streams of concentrated energy slamming into the Iron Monger from above, driving him down toward the glass roof and the surging reactor below.
The beams weren't meant to destroy the Iron Monger—its armor was too thick for that. They were meant to keep him in place, right in the path of what was coming.
"Energy discharge in three..." Tony's voice counted down in Marcus's ear.
The arc reactor's glow was becoming blinding.
"Two..."
The Iron Monger struggled against the pressure of Marcus's beams, trying to move, to escape. He hung there, helpless.
"One..."
Marcus cut his beams and rocketed sideways at maximum thrust.
The world turned blue-white.
To be continued...
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