BOOM!
The armed helicopter plummeted from over 100 meters, smashing into the ground, crumpling into a mangled steel sandwich. Blood and severed limbs oozed from the wreckage.
The security team's faces turned ashen. Missiles were their trump card against Jason.
If missiles failed, no weapon could touch him.
In an instant, the tide turned.
"Nighthawk 2! Climb! Now!" The security chief shouted, clutching his radio, eyes on the sky.
"Roger!" The pilot replied, maxing the throttle. The chopper's blades roared, pulling away from Jason.
"Running? Not so fast!" Jason formed another energy orb in his right palm and launched it.
The orb turned into a pale blue laser, streaking toward the chopper.
"We're done," The chief muttered, face grim.
The chopper couldn't outrun the laser. Jason's attack closed in instantly.
As everyone braced for the crew's doom, a pale golden electromagnetic pulse shot out, intercepting the laser midair.
Bang!
The energies collided, erupting in a muffled blast.
Jason frowned, looking right.
Hundreds of meters away, a red-and-gold Iron Man suit hovered.
Tony Stark—no, Iron Man—had arrived.
Jason eyed the approaching suit, surprised.
After a moment's shock, Jason smirked, taunting, "Hey, Tony! Nice new threads, but they don't look sturdy."
His jab hit Tony's pride, but instead of biting back, Tony asked, "How'd you know it was me?"
Jason shrugged, grinning. "Weapons Magazine called the Iron Man suit the worst weapon of the century. Only Tony Stark would keep working on it."
"Weapons Magazine, huh," Tony scoffed. "Once I take your head, I'll make them eat their words."
"My head?" Jason's eyes dripped with disdain. "Six months, and you've gotten funnier. Who gave you the balls to say that?"
Tony tapped his suit's chest proudly. "This did."
Jason studied it, amused. "Looks flashy. Once I crack that turtle shell, I'll take it apart for study."
Tony skipped the banter. "Jason, why aren't you in New York? What's in L.A.?"
Jason pointed at the reactor facility. "Heard you're back as Stark Industries' CEO. Come to congratulate you. Saw the fireworks? That's your gift."
"Nice. Let's see how tough you talk next," Tony said, annoyed. He raised his palms, firing two charged golden electromagnetic pulses.
"Energy duel? I'm game!" Jason countered, forming orbs and launching two blue energy waves.
The gold and blue energies clashed midair, sparking with a shrill sizzle.
They were evenly matched, trading blows, deadlocked.
Tony muttered, "Jarvis, divert all power to the chest."
"Yes, sir," Jarvis replied.
Whoosh!
The suit's Arc Reactor fired a third pulse from the chest.
Seeing it, Jason stayed calm, almost amused.
Here comes my power bank.
BOOM!
The arm-thick cylindrical pulse hit Jason. Tony, inside the suit, smirked.
"What?!"
His smile froze.
The pulse vanished into Jason like water into sand—no damage, no effect.
Jason's energy reserves, drained from earlier, drank it up.
Revitalized, he focused, his palm orbs swelling larger.
The tide shifted. Jason's waves grew stronger, pushing back Tony's pulses.
"Sir, he can absorb and release energy simultaneously," Jarvis warned.
"Absorb and release," Tony muttered, frowning. "Jarvis, max out the Arc Reactor!"
"His absorption has limits. Full power will overwhelm him."
"Sir, full power consumes palladium too fast. It won't last long," Jarvis cautioned.
"Then we take him down before it runs dry!" Tony said confidently.
"Understood, sir!"
The suit's chest reactor flared brighter, humming louder.
Both palms and chest unleashed thicker, more intense pulses, overpowering Jason's waves, pushing toward him.
Tony's surge ramped up the pressure.
Jason roared, maxing his energy conversion. His orbs grew again.
But the reactor's output was monstrous. Even at full tilt, Jason's body was flooding with energy.
"Shit, I'm maxed out!" He grunted.
Seconds later, his absorption hit its limit.
He released his hands, channeling the excess into a pale blue shield around himself.
Three pulses slammed into him.
Jason was blasted back like a broken kite, crashing into a warehouse.
BOOM!
He smashed through the roof, tumbling across the floor, wrecking machinery, until he slammed into a wall.
Tony lowered his hands, the reactor slowing to a minimum.
The palm repulsors smoked from prolonged high output.
He raised an arm, the helmet's HUD locking onto the warehouse. A panel opened, revealing an anti-tank rocket.
Whoosh!
The rocket shot through the roof hole.
BOOM!
The explosion lit up the warehouse, cracks webbing the walls.
…
Gods clashed; mortals watched.
Jason and Tony's sci-fi showdown left the guards stunned.
Veterans of countless battles, they felt powerless.
They were obsolete. Superpowers and superior tech were the future.
After a pause, the guards erupted in cheers.
"Mr. Stark! Hell yeah!"
"We're saved!"
"Kill Jason!"
"I recorded it!"
"Put that on YouTube, it'll blow up!"
Tony's arrival was a lifeline, their faces beaming.
He landed in front of the chief, lifting his faceplate.
The chief bowed his head, ashamed.
With Tony Stark standing there, his earlier bravado faded, his resentment bottled up.
Seeing the chief's constipated look and the wrecked campus, Tony pieced it together.
The chief's poor leadership let the admin building and reactor get hit, costing over a hundred lives.
He'd also defied orders, using assault vehicles, destroying expensive gear.
Tony was pissed but held back. Their foe was Jason Walter.
If Tony, without his suit, faced this, he'd have done no better.
The chief looked up, serious. "Mr. Stark, I—"
Tony cut him off. "Not time for blame. Jason's not dead. I need your help."
The chief nodded grimly.
"Jason's tough. That hit was a scratch. It's about to get uglier," Tony said. "I need you and your men to cover me, assist with attacks."
"Weapons ban's lifted. Use every missile, vehicle, anything. If it takes blowing up the factory to kill Jason, I'm fine with it."
The chief replied, "Mr. Stark, missiles don't work. If he uses wind energy instead of heat, they can't track him."
Tony smiled, tapping his head. "Think outside the box. If heat tracking fails, use remote-guided missiles. The factory's got plenty."
His words sparked an epiphany for the chief.
"Got it. I'm on it."
He radioed the teams to grab remote-guided missile launchers.
In pairs—one launching, one guiding—they'd assist, not aiming to kill Jason but to keep him off-balance, limiting his full strength.
Tony closed his faceplate and took to the air, the chest reactor revving up, ready for Jason's counterattack.
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You can read advance chapters and view R-18 images of the characters on pat reon page.
pat reon.com/GreenBlue17
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