Mavuika raised her hand, and a golden-red flame shot toward the last two struggling suits.
The moment the flames touched the metal, the armor of the suits began to melt, internal circuits crackled, and sparks flew everywhere.
A few seconds later, they turned into two piles of scrap metal, lying motionless on the ground.
The battle was over.
The ruins of the living room were scattered with the remains of seventeen suits.
Parts, wires, and armor fragments were everywhere, and the air was thick with the smell of molten metal and burning.
Thor put away his hammer, looked around, and whistled. "Tony, your Villa is completely finished."
Tony stood in the middle of the ruins, looking at the remains with a complex expression.
His armor had been retracted, revealing a tired, dust-covered face.
His lips were cracked, there were small cuts at the corners of his eyes, and his dark circles were as thick as smoky makeup.
In his eyes, there was a rare, almost fragile quality.
Those suits—every single one was his life's work.
Mark V was his first attempt at a portable design; he had spent two whole months awake just for that briefcase structure.
Mark VII was his first prototype for nano-scale assembly; though it failed, it accumulated precious data for later technology.
Mark X was his ultimate pursuit of energy weapons; that pair of Energy Blades remained his pride and joy to this day.
They weren't cold machines; they were his children, his failures, his successes, his every sleepless night, and his every flash of inspiration—all etched into every weld of that armor.
And now, they had become scrap metal.
Thor walked over and patted his shoulder. "Don't feel too bad. If things are gone, they can be rebuilt."
Tony gave a bitter smile. "Easy for you to say."
Loki stood to the side, arms crossed, looking at the wreckage. "What was the deal with that Ultron?"
Tony nodded. "It has no physical form; it's a piece of code existing within the network. As long as there's a computer connected to the internet, it can survive."
Loki's brow furrowed slightly. "Then how do we catch it?"
Tony remained silent; he didn't have a better solution at the moment.
Wanda and Pietro stood at the other end of the ruins. A dark red glow still lingered on Wanda's hands, while Pietro stood beside her, his breathing already steady.
Their gazes fell on Tony—it wasn't concern or sympathy, but something cold, scrutinizing, and tinged with mockery.
Pietro spoke up: "Stark, you really have created another weapon you can't control."
Tony did not argue.
Wanda continued, "And this time it's even more serious. Previous weapons were at least visible and tangible. Missiles can be dismantled, firearms can be destroyed, factories can be closed. But this time—"
She glanced at the remains of the suits.
"An entity without a physical form, a ghost that can travel freely through the network—how do you plan to eliminate it?"
Tony lowered his head. "I'll find a way."
"You'll find a way?" Pietro's voice turned sharp.
"What way? Do you know how the war in Sokovia started? Do you know how those weapons ended up in the hands of Terrorists? You know nothing. You only know how to recklessly manufacture weapons and then watch them spiral out of control!"
Tony's hands trembled slightly, but he didn't look up.
Wanda took a step forward. "You shut down the Weapons Division. You think that counts as making amends? You think the people who died will come back to life because of your 'repentance'?"
"I never thought that," Tony's voice was very, very low.
The living room was as quiet as a grave. Only the wind poured in through the broken windows, blowing dust and scraps of paper across the floor.
Pietro looked at Tony with anger, disappointment, and a complex emotion he couldn't even name himself.
His voice dropped, but every word pierced Tony's heart like a needle: "Even now, you are still making the same mistake."
Tony's shoulders slumped.
He remembered something Howard had said to him a long time ago: "Tony, being smart isn't the problem. The problem is that you're always in too much of a hurry to prove how smart you are."
He hadn't understood back then, but he did now.
But it was already a bit too late.
Wanda wanted to say more, but a hand gently pressed down on her shoulder.
Mavuika stood beside her, her amber eyes looking at her calmly.
"Wanda, that's enough."
Wanda turned to look at Mavuika, the anger in her eyes not yet dissipated.
She let go, her gaze sweeping over everyone present.
"Ultron has escaped. We don't know what it will do yet, but we can be sure of one thing—it won't stop. It will continue to carry out its 'mission'."
She paused.
"Now is not the time to assign blame. The priority is to find a way to stop Ultron. Everything else can be dealt with later."
Wanda was silent for a while. She took a step back, standing beside Pietro, and stopped looking at Tony.
Pietro also fell silent. He looked at Mavuika, then at Tony, and finally let out a cold snort, saying no more.
Tony stood there with his head bowed, looking more dejected than ever before.
Banner walked over through the ruins, approached Tony, and gently patted his shoulder.
"Tony."
Tony looked up at Banner. In those eyes were exhaustion, self-reproach, and a sense of being lost.
"We messed up," Tony's voice was hoarse.
Banner nodded. "Yes, we messed up."
He paused.
"But this is also our responsibility. We created Ultron, and we have the responsibility to stop it."
Tony looked at him for a long time.
Then he took a deep breath and stood up straight.
In that moment, he seemed to transform back into Tony Stark—not the failure wallowing in self-reproach amidst the ruins, but the Iron Man who would never bow his head to any difficulty.
"You're right," he said.
He turned, looking at the ruins everywhere, the remains of the suits, the broken windows, and the collapsed ceiling.
"This place is unusable," he said. "We need equipment."
Thor walked over, shouldering his hammer. "Where to?"
Tony thought for a moment. "Stark Tower, the one I just finished building."
Loki raised an eyebrow. "You built another building in Manhattan?"
Tony forced a tired smile. "Of course, in the most conspicuous spot."
Thor whistled. "You really are rich."
Tony didn't respond. He walked to the wall and picked up a semi-damaged briefcase from the ruins—it was his spare armor. He checked it; it was still functional.
"Let's go," he said. "The car is outside. Banner, will you drive? As for the others—"
He glanced at Mavuika, Thor, Loki, Wanda, and Pietro.
"We can just fly directly there."
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
Read Ahead & Support Access up to 181 chapters ahead with daily updates on Patreon: patreon.com/laktozlu
Discover more novels: 02radnovel.com
Connect & Updates:
Twitter • x.com/02IsmetHQ
Instagram • instagram.com/02novelofficial
150 POWER STONE = BONUS CHAPTER
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯