Tony's hand paused. He looked at the young man's face. It was calm, utterly expressionless, neither like he was joking nor like he was telling the truth.
Hell? What hell?
As a materialist, Tony did not believe in religious talk like that. The only way he could understand it was that the other man had killed everyone, and the facts seemed to prove exactly that.
Outside, it was too quiet. There was no clamor, no terrorists rushing over.
Tony's mind spun at high speed, but he could not make sense of it. This young man looked under twenty, barefoot, wearing a shirt, and didn't look like a mercenary at all.
Even his eyes did not seem like an ordinary person's. That calm, that sense of it being only natural, was not an act. It was the kind of calm someone had only after going through a great many things.
"You killed them," Tony said.
The young man did not deny it.
"Let's go. There isn't much time."
Tony did not move. He looked at the young man for a long time. Countless thoughts flashed through his mind. Maybe this person really had been sent by Pepper.
But he might also have been sent by Vought International.
Of course, maybe he was another superhuman who wanted to use him.
"You're a superhuman, right? What's your power?" The world had changed. Superhumans had appeared. Vought International used them to make money, used them to fight GG, used them to replace armies. Tony did not like superhumans. He considered them an uncontrollable threat. But this young man had saved him.
"My power depends on what power I want." Ian did answer the question, and his words once again sent Tony's imagination racing.
"What's your name?" Tony asked.
"Ian."
"Ian what?"
"Ian Kent."
Tony