After gaining Excalibur's recognition, Stark was positively brimming with spirit. It was as if he had returned to the days when he could do anything, to the era when Iron Man alone could determine the course of world peace.
I am Iron Man. It felt like the scene where he had said those words was only yesterday. In truth, Iron Man had made countless mistakes, and now he finally had the power to make up for them.
A flash of golden light opened a passage between the Soul World and the material world. Stark took the lead, charging out with a vast crowd of wandering souls that had retained their own consciousness.
Like Aragorn returning to Gondor with an army of the dead, he charged through layer after layer of mist amid the neighing of warhorses. His determination to protect his family instantly led him to his daughter.
Red Skull had never managed to catch up to Little Rachel and the others, forcing him to reveal his trump card early. Twelve brand-new Stark Sentinels emerged from a secret base and joined the hunt three minutes earlier.
The toy Drill Rig was forced to dart around frantically. The encirclement was tightening, and the space available for them to move was rapidly disappearing.
Little Rachel clenched her right hand and nervously scanned her surroundings. If they were caught, she could only call her mother, Phoenix, to save them. But asking for help meant at least a month of homework at home. The price was far too steep, and she truly did not want to make that choice. Fortunately, at the critical moment, Stark arrived in an entirely new look!
"All unwilling souls, I grant you strength and courage! For all the fallen dead, for all the living who still carry hope! Attack!"