Tony scanned the smoke and rubble with a cold look. "This reeks of the Fantastic Four. If they're involved, I'll drag them in for answers."
He pinged Director Nick and had him pull up Susan's contact info. Five minutes later the number popped into Tony's HUD. Before Tony could react, JARVIS screamed a warning.
[Alert! Incoming — two Rayeye tracking missiles detected. Distance: 5 km… 4 km… 3 km…]
Ryuuto heard the alarm too. He snapped his head toward Tony. "Tracking missiles? Stark hardware?"
Tony's jaw hardened. "Made by the tech that destroyed the lab. Stark prototypes — small, portable, lethal. They've locked onto us. We need to move. Now."
They took off in a blur. The missiles were closing fast; the armor's HUD painted their paths in ugly red lines. Ryuuto angled his thrust and fell into formation beside Tony.
"Can your armor survive a hit?" Ryuuto asked over the roar.
"It's an older frame — shock absorption's buggy. The explosion could take us down even if it doesn't punch a hole through the suit," Tony said. "Who the hell is pulling strings?"
"Let's find out after we don't get blown to bits," Ryuuto shrugged. "You take the one on your tail. I'll handle mine."
Tony barked at him, but Ryuuto was already diving—straight at farmland below.
He peeled out of the air and stripped the armor off mid-fall like shedding leaves. Pieces clattered and tumbled to the grass below. The missile that had been tracking him locked onto the falling debris and angled hard. Ryuuto vanished from sight—too fast for the eye to follow.
If bullets could be plucked from the air, could a missile be caught? Worth a test.
He split with Shadow Clone Technique: one image lagged behind like bait. The clone sprinted while Ryuuto sprinted faster still, outrunning the missile's guidance and stopping on a dime. The missile slammed into the clone.
boom!
A gusher of flame and scorched earth lit the farm. Cows scattered. A farmer barreled out, cellphone in hand, panic written all over him.
Ryuuto ghosted beside him, casually throwing an arm around the trembling man's shoulders. "No need to call anyone. I brought you a souvenir missile and it detonated. A little scorched lawn. Clean it up later and tell no one — the owner might come looking."
The farmer nodded so hard his hat nearly fell off.
One down. One to go.
Tony was looping the sky, keeping distance from his own stalker missile. Ryuuto sprinted to the scattered parts of armor, grabbed a paean piece and tossed it back to Tony over the comms. "Hey — fly five meters, horizontal. I'll take the next one."
"Got it!" Tony answered, voice tense with adrenaline. "You lunatic."
Ryuuto grinned, chest thrumming. Chaos smelled like success.