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Chapter 56 – Embers Beneath the Surface
Rain beat steadily against the windshield as Tony's car tore through the Tennessee backroads.
The headlights carved narrow tunnels through the darkness; steam hissed from under the hood.
His knuckles were pale on the steering wheel. "Hey, kid," he said hoarsely, "how much charge do we have left?"
Harley squinted at the flickering readout. "Something like six—maybe seven percent? I don't—"
> "Correction," JARVIS interjected. "Four percent, sir. Partial link restored to Stark Industries' satellite grid. However, your public image has been… repurposed."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "Repurposed how?"
> "The Mandarin released another broadcast an hour ago. You were mentioned."
"Play it."
The windshield shimmered, and the Mandarin's calm face filled the glass.
> "Some men believe they are gods because they wear armor," he said. "But gods burn like everyone else. Watch closely, America. Watch your Iron Man fall."
The screen cut to static.
Tony leaned back, jaw tight. "He's using theater to bait me."
> "It appears effective, sir."
"Yeah," Tony muttered, stepping out into the cold drizzle. "Because I'm dumb enough to take the stage."
He looked up at the lightning-laced sky for a long, silent moment.
Then: "JARVIS… locate Pepper."
There was no answer. Only static.
---
Harley's Shed
The rain had stopped when Harley heard the knock.
He wiped his hands on an oily rag and opened the door.
A man stood there, faint light gleaming off the red lines crawling up his neck.
"Miss me, kid?" Savin said, before his fist came down like a hammer.
Harley hit the floor before he could shout. Savin stepped over him, eyes drawn to the half-assembled Mark 42 armor resting on the workbench. He wrenched the chest plate open, tearing out the arc reactor in a spray of sparks.
He raised a communicator. "Sir. I survived. Stark escaped. But I have the reactor."
Killian's voice crackled through. "Bring it to me."
---
Miami – A.I.M. Research Compound
The Atlantic crashed against the docks as Killian walked the corridor of glass and steel.
Red emergency lights blinked faintly along the walls, reflections shifting like restless fire.
A ripple disturbed the air ahead of him — space folding for a second.
Zhang, the true Mandarin, stepped from nothingness. Two rings pulsed on his right hand, light searing through the dim hall with each uneven heartbeat.
Killian regarded him calmly. "You should rest. Every use burns away your life."
Zhang's gaze didn't move. "You found the element."
"Yes," Killian said. "The serum's adapting. Give it a few hours."
"Make sure it works," Zhang said softly.
Killian smiled faintly. "It will. I need you strong for the performance. Since you were in Hong Kong, I hired an actor to wear your mask. I trust you don't mind. It's not as if anyone knows you are the Mandarin."
Zhang turned away without a word. The air around him shimmered with residual heat.
"Spies ,huh." Behind him, a containment pod cracked, flooding the corridor with red light.
Killian stopped, listening to the glass settle. "Control your temper," he said quietly. "We still need your legend alive… for now."
---
Above Miami – Quinjet
Lightning rippled across the storm clouds, the Quinjet cutting silently through the turbulence.
Inside, Captain America checked his shield straps while Natasha reviewed the satellite feeds.
Dozens of orange blips pulsed across the screen.
"A.I.M.'s been busy," Natasha said. "Thirty-plus enhanced soldiers. New tech signatures. All unstable."
Guardian stood near the rear ramp, watching the lightning arc across the ocean below. His reflection in the glass looked almost detached — calm eyes hiding unease.
Steve noticed. "Something wrong?"
Guardian hesitated before nodding. "I have a bad feeling about this place."
"Some kind of sixth sense?" Natasha asked.
He shook his head. "No. Just… instinct. The kind that comes before a storm."
For a moment, only the hum of the engines answered.
Steve finally said, "Then we make sure nothing gets loose."
Guardian's gaze stayed on the sea. "Let's hope it's that simple."
---
Miami Docks – Night
The rain had thinned to mist. The air smelled of salt and metal.
Four figures slipped between the containers — Captain America, Black Widow, Mayura, and Guardian.
"Two guards at the main gate," Natasha whispered. "One patrol inside."
Steve nodded. "We split. Nat, left flank. Mayura, stay with Guardian. Quiet until I say."
They moved like shadows.
Then — a metallic click beneath Steve's boot.
He froze.
A heartbeat later, the docks flared with white light.
Yellow-armored soldiers rose from behind the crates, weapons humming.
Killian's voice rolled from the loudspeakers. "Welcome, Captain. Took you long enough to accept my invitation."
"Trap," Guardian murmured.
"Yeah," Steve said grimly, raising his shield, "I noticed."
The night erupted. Energy bolts carved through the rain as Mayura swept her fan open, bending a shimmering portal that turned the fire back on the attackers.
Steve charged through the chaos, shield flashing, while Natasha dropped two soldiers with precise shots.
Killian watched from his control deck, smiling. "Let's test the upgrades."
Below, enhanced soldiers convulsed — veins glowing molten orange before they surged forward, moving with terrifying speed.
Guardian met the first one head-on. His fist glowed faintly with chi as he struck — but the impact detonated like a mine. The blast hurled him back, smoke rolling from the ground.
"So that's what he meant by 'upgraded Extremis,'" he muttered, bracing again.
Natasha fired a short burst. "They're surviving their own explosions now. Great."
"I noticed," Steve said, blocking another blow. "Keep your distance."
Guardian steadied himself, rain hissing against his coat.
"Distance won't matter if they get close enough to melt the floor."
Then he moved — faster, sharper, each step measured as blue light flickered around his hands.
---
High above the coast, thunder broke again.
Inside a separate aircraft, the President sat rigid in his seat.
A man in black armor stood before him, calm and composed. The red glow of a single ring pulsed faintly on his hand.
"So," the Mandarin said softly, "you can come with me quietly… or I can paint this plane with the consequences."
Lightning flashed outside the window.
And the storm began to spread.
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End of Chapter 56 – Embers Beneath the Surface
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