Tony's cliffside villa looked out over an endless sweep of private grassland—one of those billionaire whims: buy the field, then run across it when you feel nostalgic. The helicopter thudded down on the rooftop pad, and Tony hopped out grinning like a man who'd just paid his rent with someone else's ego.
"You want a drink first?" he offered.
"After we fight," Ryuuto said. "I want to check which is stronger: my variant, or your armor."
"That's fair!" Tony laughed. "Hey—no armor in Australia, remember? If I'd had a suit, I'd've taken you for coffee and called it a day."
"You lost to the Hulk," Ryuuto pointed out, half-amused.
"I was ambushed." Tony waved it away. "Big guy's faster than he looks and sneaky as a badger. When Cap and I were searching the swamp, something sprang out. JARVIS kept my shields up, but the impact tore half my systems to scrap. Armor's back online now, though."
Ryuuto shrugged and strolled to the grass. Tony watched him go, impish. "You ready? J.A.R.V.I.S., prep armor!"
Underground, the lab unfolded into motion. Parts flew up in a practiced ballet, clicked together like chrome origami, and Tony became Iron Man in a heartbeat. The HUD whispered checks and green lights.
"Systems nominal," JARVIS reported. "Energy converters stable."
"Good. If I beat you, I get to gloat to Banner and Cap," Tony said. Then he launched into the field.
Ryuuto stood on the turquoise grass, wind teasing his hair. Tony scanned. "Identify: original or clone?"
"Original," JARVIS answered.
"Lovely." Tony hovered, palms glowing. The repulsor beam fired—Ryuuto vanished.
Tony barked, "J.A.R.V.I.S., lock—"
Flash. Ryuuto materialized behind him and unleashed a torrent of kicks.
Ninjutsu · Leaf Hurricane!
Tony's suit shuddered under the slaps. The armor didn't flinch like flesh; it flexed like a tank with a soft suspension. Ryuuto's kicks were nothing but polite prods—he was testing, not murdering. The Iron Man plating shrugged them off.
So physical force wasn't the answer. Ryuuto grinned. Time for shinobi tools.
Tony spun and punched. Ryuuto flicked a hand, then sealed both palms—
Ninjutsu · Shadow Clone Technique!
Ten duplicates blossomed around him like a wind-driven hailstorm, each identical and precise. They surged in unison.
Tony laughed, half-honor, half-panic. "They look identical—scans can tell! J.A.R.V.I.S., lock the real one!"
"Sir—impossible to lock. Multiple Doppler signatures, simultaneous transposition. Position data changing two to three times per second. I cannot maintain a single lock!"
Tony's HUD stuttered; targeting glitched. The suit, built to handle missiles and nukes, was swallowing data it couldn't digest. Ryuuto and his copies moved too fast, too layered—ninjutsu plus reflexes turned the battlefield into an optical illusion.
Ryuuto darted between duplicates, savoring the music of rapid airflow and the thrill of testing a metal god's limits. He had no intention of punching a hole in civilization—today was a diagnostics session. But watching Tony's armor struggle, he felt a pulse of satisfaction: this world's tech was impressively tough. That only made the game more fun.
And J.A.R.V.I.S… well, J.A.R.V.I.S. was learning what humans call confusion.