For 40+ advance chapter: patreon.com/Snowing_Melody
The Imperio-controlled Extremis warrior marched stiffly onto the deck, Hermione walking casually beside him. Killian turned, his eyes scanning the single prisoner and the reduced squad.
"Why are so many men missing?" he demanded, frowning. "Did Stark have backup?"
"The attack on the villa triggered high-level security protocols around the girl," the soldier droned, repeating Hermione's telepathic script perfectly. "We sustained heavy casualties."
Killian nodded, satisfied. "I was right. Stark Industries has Black Ops level security on a child. She is definitely Tony's daughter."
He walked up to Hermione, a predatory smile on his face. "You didn't expect to see me again so soon, did you, little sister?"
Hermione stared at him, feigning shock. "It was you? The man Pepper fired?"
"Don't blame me," Killian sneered, pacing around her. "Blame your father. Blame Tony Stark. His arrogance created this moment. He creates demons, and now his demons have come for his legacy."
Hermione blinked, processed the monologue, and then asked, "Do you have any apples? I'm hungry."
Killian paused, taken aback by her complete lack of fear. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Interesting girl. Staring death in the face and thinking about snacks. Fine. Grant her this last wish."
He signaled a subordinate, who confusedly handed Hermione a green apple from a crate. Hermione took a large, loud bite—CRUNCH—and leaned against the railing, looking less like a hostage and more like a tourist bored with the tour guide.
BOOM!
A massive sonic boom tore through the night sky.
Dozens of Iron Man suits—the Iron Legion—screamed overhead, repulsors flaring against the darkness, surrounding the cargo ship in a ring of steel and light. Tony and Rhodes, fully armored, dropped from the sky and landed on the upper deck with a heavy metallic thud.
"Tony Stark," Killian shouted, his voice amplified over the roar of the engines. He spread his arms wide, welcoming the conflict. "You've finally arrived. I've been waiting for you on the rooftop for a long time."
"Killian," Tony's voice came through his helmet speakers, weary and unimpressed. "Stop this. You've gone too far."
"Stop? Hahaha!" Killian laughed, a sound of pure, unhinged vindication. "You still think you're untouchable? After tonight, I will hold the President and the world's biggest terrorist in one hand. I will control the war on terror. And you won't even be alive to see it."
He grinned, his skin glowing with the faint orange heat of the Extremis virus. "By the way, I have leverage. Your precious daughter is in my hands."
"Daughter?" Tony froze. "Killian, has the virus cooked your brain?"
Damn it, Tony thought, panic rising. Thank God Pepper isn't here. If she heard 'daughter,' I'd be sleeping in the ocean.
He turned to Rhodes. "Honeybear, do I have a daughter I don't know about?"
Rhodes scoffed. "Maybe one of the Maxim cover girls from '08 came back to claim child support?"
Killian, sensing the mockery, snapped his fingers. "Bring her out!"
The mind-controlled soldier pushed Hermione into the light. She took another bite of her apple—CRUNCH—and waved lazily at Tony.
"Open your eyes!" Killian roared triumphantly. "Is she not your flesh and blood?"
Tony's faceplate retracted. He stared at Hermione. His eyes widened in genuine, abject terror.
Holy shit, Tony thought. They actually caught Hermione?
His mind raced. Wait. If Hermione is caught, that means she let them catch her. Which means… oh god. She's watching me. She's waiting for me to panic.
He saw the glint of amusement in Hermione's eyes as she chewed. That little rascal.
Hermione, meanwhile, was rolling her eyes internally. This man has a wild imagination. Me? Tony's daughter? Does he think genetic modification works like that? My bone structure is completely different. He's blind.
"Tony Stark, what do you have to say now?" Killian gloated, mistaking Tony's silence for devastation. "Surrender, and I might let her live."
Tony snapped out of it. He shrugged, his face a mask of bored indifference. "Do whatever you want."
"WHAT?!" Killian screamed, his brain short-circuiting.
"Yeah, I don't really care," Tony said, inspecting his fingernails. "Though, honestly? I suggest you don't mess with her. Teenage girls have terrible tempers. It's for your own safety."
This was genuine, heartfelt advice. Killian, however, saw it as the ultimate insult.
"Fine! Fine!" Killian raged, his skin burning bright orange. "If you don't care about her life, then watch her die! Soldier! Kill her! Burn her!"
The Extremis soldier standing next to Hermione didn't move. He stared blankly ahead.
"Are you deaf?!" Killian screamed. "I said kill her!"
The soldier remained a statue.
A cold sense of wrongness settled over Killian. He looked at the soldier, then at Tony. "Stark! What did you do?!"
Imperius Curse, Tony realized. Of course.
"What does it have to do with me?" Tony asked innocently. "Maybe your HR department is lacking. Leadership isn't for everyone, Killian. Maybe they just don't respect you."
"You think this stops me?!" Killian roared, realizing his leverage was gone. "I'll do it myself!"
He lunged at Tony, his body erupting in blazing heat, tearing through his expensive suit.
"You asked for it," Tony muttered, his faceplate slamming shut.
As Iron Man and the Extremis-enhanced CEO clashed in a shower of sparks and fire, Hermione stood to the side, taking another bite of her apple.
Interesting, she mused, watching Killian fight with the desperate fury of a scorned nerd. In a web novel, he'd be the protagonist. The 'Thirty Years East, Thirty Years West' archetype. Underestimated, mocked, then gained power to seek revenge. A classic underdog story.
She watched Tony blast him with a repulsor beam.
Unfortunately, she thought, swallowing the apple, this is the Marvel Universe. And in this story, he's just expensive cannon fodder.
