Chang Wei moved like lightning, descending rapidly from midair and landing on the ground in a cloud of dust.
His feet landed firmly on the rubble-strewn ground, his gaze swiftly locking onto Tony, who was struggling to get up not far away.
Tony looked utterly bedraggled at the moment.
The Iron Man suit he wore, its once gleaming, metallic sheen and incomparably sturdy steel shell, was now severely damaged in many places.
Some areas had been smashed inward by tremendous impacts, while others had been slashed open by sharp blades, leaving long gashes. Sparks still flew from some of its components with sizzling sounds, as though the Iron Man suit were groaning in pain.
As for why a nanotech suit would spark? That was how it happened in the movies.
Tony braced himself against the ground with difficulty, trying to push himself up.
Veins stood out on his hands from the strain, and his face was filled with exhaustion and pain.
Every attempt to rise was accompanied by the grinding and snapping of components inside the Iron Man suit, as though it might fall apart completely at any moment.
At last, through sheer determination, he staggered to his feet, though his body remained unsteady and swayed slightly.
He raised his head and looked at Chang Wei standing not far away, giving a helpless, bitter smile.
That smile held both the relief of surviving disaster and self-mocking scorn for his own helplessness.
"I almost died. Hulk was the same. That Lizardman is too powerful."
Tony said hoarsely between heavy breaths.
Tony Stark, the genius inventor, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist, had always possessed his own pride and stubbornness.
With his intelligence and talent, he had created the Iron Man suit and become the superhero Iron Man, saving the world in countless battles.