Obadiah hauled himself upright from the wreckage, servos screaming in protest as damaged systems struggled to respond. With a roar of fury, he grabbed one of the crushed vehicles surrounding him and hurled it at Smith like a missile.
Smith didn't bother moving. A sphere of ki formed in his palm and he thrust it forward. The energy blast intercepted the flying car mid-flight, detonating it in a spectacular fireball that rained burning debris across the street.
Through the smoke and flames, Obadiah's voice carried rage and disbelief. "Superpowers? Super soldier serum? I don't care what you are, anyone who stands in my way dies!"
The Iron Monger's remaining weapons systems activated simultaneously. Missile racks on both arms deployed, targeting computers locking on. Twelve missiles total, six for Tony floating overhead, six for Smith on the ground.
"Fire everything!"
The missiles launched in a rippling sequence, white contrails marking their trajectories. Tony tried to dodge, repulsors firing desperately, but the distance was too short and his damaged armor too slow. The explosions caught him squarely, the successive impacts battering his armor like a prizefighter's combination and sending him tumbling through the air toward Pepper's position.
He hit the pavement hard and rolled, momentum carrying him into a graceless heap near where Pepper stood frozen.
"Tony!" She ran to him, dropping to her knees beside his battered armor. "Are you okay? Tony, answer me!"
The missiles targeting Smith found only empty air. He'd moved before they'd even left their launch tubes, speed carrying him clear of the impact zone in a blur of motion. The missiles struck pavement and detonated, creating overlapping craters that sent debris and smoke billowing outward.
Obadiah's triumphant laugh echoed through his speakers. "You see that, Tony? This is real power! Where your help…"
"I'm right here."
Obadiah's targeting systems screamed warnings as Smith's voice came from directly behind him. Before he could turn, before he could react, Smith's hands moved through the familiar kata, drawing them back to his side, ki gathering between his palms in a sphere of brilliant blue-white energy.
The energy reached critical mass, crackling with barely contained force. Smith thrust his hands forward.
"KAMEHAMEHA!"
The beam erupted from his palms like a lance of pure destruction. It struck the Iron Monger's center mass and kept going, the concentrated energy too powerful for even military-grade armor to withstand. The beam carried Obadiah upward, lifting the two-ton suit off the ground as easily as a leaf on the wind.
Alarms shrieked inside the cockpit. Every system flashed red. Structural integrity failed across the entire armor platform. The stolen arc reactor overloaded from the energy feedback.
Then the Iron Monger detonated.
The explosion lit up the night sky like a second sun, the shockwave rattling windows blocks away. Metal fragments rained down across the street, twisted pieces of armor plating, scorched mechanical components, nothing larger than a briefcase. Of Obadiah Stane himself, nothing remained that could be identified as human.
Complete obliteration.
Tony had just begun pushing himself upright when the explosion occurred. He froze mid-motion, staring at the dissipating fireball with an expression mixing shock and grim satisfaction.
"Well," he muttered. "That's one way to handle it."
His mind raced through the implications. Smith had been holding back during their sparring match. Significantly. That Kamehameha, or whatever he'd called it, had destroyed the Iron Monger in a single shot. And Tony's armor? Smith could have ended their fight at any moment.
The realization was simultaneously humbling and terrifying.
Smith appeared beside Tony and Pepper in a blur of motion, the transition from distant location to immediate proximity so fast it barely registered as movement.
Pepper stood quickly, brushing off her skirt with trembling hands. "Thank you, Mr. Smith. You saved both of us. Again."
Tony's faceplate retracted, revealing a face smudged with soot but grinning despite everything. "I could have handled Obadiah. Just needed a bit more time to figure out his weak points."
Smith's expression suggested he found Tony's bravado more amusing than convincing. "Sure you could have. But since Obadiah's now atomized across three city blocks, the cleanup is yours to handle."
Tony surveyed the devastation, cratered streets, burning vehicles, structural damage to nearby buildings, and a crowd of civilians with phones recording everything. The property damage alone would cost millions. Add in medical expenses for any injured bystanders, legal fees, public relations...
"Yeah," Tony agreed, sobering slightly. "This one's on Stark Industries. We'll cover everything."
"Good." Smith's gaze swept across the crowd of onlookers, then settled briefly on Agent Coulson, who'd been conspicuously absent during the actual fighting but now emerged from cover looking profoundly grateful to be alive. "Then I'll leave you to it."
Without further ceremony, Smith launched himself into the air and disappeared into the night sky, leaving only a brief shimmer of disturbed air to mark his passage.
Coulson approached cautiously, his usual composure somewhat rattled. He'd watched his team die in Sector 16, had witnessed the Iron Monger's destructive capabilities firsthand. Only luck and Smith's intervention had prevented him from joining them.
But now he had a different problem: dozens of witnesses, multiple recordings, and a very public display of advanced technology and superhuman capabilities. The subsequent cover-up would be a bureaucratic nightmare.
Tony watched Smith's departure with a calculating expression. No more sparring matches until he developed significantly stronger materials and power sources. Smith's strength exceeded the Iron Monger's by orders of magnitude, one hit from that energy attack would turn the Mark III into scrap metal.
He touched his chin thoughtfully. The armor upgrades couldn't wait. Enhanced structural integrity, energy shielding, more efficient power distribution. And he needed to understand that attack, the way Smith had gathered energy and projected it. It resembled a laser but with different properties, more raw power concentrated into a tighter beam.
Questions for later. Right now, he had a disaster zone to clean up and a very concerned assistant to reassure.
"Come on," Tony said to Pepper, his armor beginning the disassembly sequence. "Let's get out of here before SHIELD buries us in paperwork."
Smith returned to the Fraternity's headquarters well after midnight, his training clothes singed and dirty from the evening's excitement. He showered quickly, washing away the dust and smoke, then collapsed onto his bed with a bone-deep weariness that had nothing to do with physical exertion.
His mind refused to settle into sleep, instead analyzing the implications of tonight's events. Tony would reveal himself as Iron Man soon, probably at the press conference SHIELD would inevitably organize.
And once Tony went public, the floodgates would open. The Marvel Universe's major events would cascade, Hulk's rampage, Thor's arrival, the Chitauri invasion. Gods and monsters emerging from the shadows into public consciousness.
Smith looked forward to testing himself against those threats. The Hulk's raw power, Thor's godly strength and command of lightning. Would they provide a genuine challenge, or would they fall as easily as Obadiah had?
He needed to grow stronger. The Saiyan templete responded to combat, to near-death experiences, to pushing beyond limits. But he was cautious about deliberately injuring himself to trigger those adaptations. That technique worked best when you had significant untapped potential, otherwise you risked permanent damage for minimal gain.
And there was another concern. As his power increased, so too would the visual effects of the Dragon Ball. This time, the summoning dragon had created a localized phenomenon over the ocean. Next time, with a more powerful wish, the darkening effect might be visible globally.
Half the planet would see their sky go black as the dragon manifested. Kamar-Taj would notice. The Eternals would take interest. SHIELD and HYDRA would investigate. Too much attention, too many questions.
He'd need to be strategic about when and where can the Dragon Ball be summon.
Meanwhile, the Fraternity needed to expand its capabilities. The Widows he'd inherited from Dreykov, once freed from their conditioning, would provide a significant increase in skilled operatives. And the Universal Capsule Company's first product, Bulma's scouter, was nearly ready for market launch.
Technology that could measure threat levels would be revolutionary in this universe. Military applications alone would be worth billions, and private security firms would scramble to acquire them. The Fraternity's financial position would become unassailable.
Smith's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. He glanced at the clock, nearly 2 AM. Who would,
"Mr. Doyle?" Fox's voice carried through the door. "Agent Coulson is here. He says it's urgent."
Smith suppressed a groan. Of course SHIELD couldn't wait until morning. He dragged himself out of bed, pulled on fresh clothes, and made his way to the reception room where Coulson waited with his characteristic bland expression and government-issue suit.
"Coulson," Smith said, settling into a chair with deliberate casualness. "Shouldn't you be with Tony, coordinating the official story about tonight's events? I thought that fell under your jurisdiction."
Coulson's expression remained neutral, though Smith detected fatigue around his eyes. "Mr. Stark's technological capabilities are... concerning to certain parties. So yes, this situation definitely falls within SHIELD's purview."
He leaned forward slightly. "Which is precisely why I'm here. Cleaning up the aftermath of tonight requires coordination with all involved parties. That includes you."
"I'm listening."
"We're scheduling a press conference for tomorrow afternoon. Both you and Mr. Stark need to attend."
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