Men Have to Fight

Stark Industries Headquarters, Area 16. Underground workshop.

Obadiah Stane stood before Iron Monger, clutching the Arc Reactor he had torn from Tony's chest. It was Tony's creation. That child he had watched grow up, as arrogant and untouchable as his father, had created a miracle for the world.

White light leaked through his fingers, illuminating his bald head and sharply defined face.

"BOSS, that woman escaped. The guards at the entrance were knocked out."

Obadiah waved a hand, passed the core to the engineer beside him, then climbed the ladder toward the opening in Iron Monger's back. "Your turn." He climbed the ladder toward the opening in Iron Monger's back and spoke in a low voice.

The engineer carefully aligned the Arc Reactor with its slot and pushed it in.

"Click."

The latch snapped shut.

White light burst forth, and Iron Monger suddenly flared with blinding brightness. The imitation monster had awakened.

He manually pushed the control lever. Iron Monger's right arm lifted, its Gatling gun barrels slowly spinning. Its left arm rose, and the missile launcher cover popped open before closing again. He took a step. The ground shook, and rubble fell from the ceiling. As he walked out of the assembly workshop, its immense weight pressed into the floor beneath its feet, leaving shallow dents with every step.

He stood in the center of the workshop. He would use this crude beast to crush Tony's little toy.

He waited for Tony to come. He knew Tony would come.

He waited.

In the night sky, a red-and-gold bullet was screaming through the air.

"JARVIS, have you finished analyzing Iron Monger's data?"

"Analysis complete." JARVIS's mechanical voice sounded. "Iron Monger's armor was reverse-engineered from the remains of Mark One. Its material is a high-strength aerospace alloy. Its weapons systems include shoulder-mounted miniature missiles and arm-mounted Gatling guns.

"Sir, Mark Three has not yet been tested. This will not be a fair fight."

"Enough." The corner of Tony's mouth twitched, his expression dark. "Unfair? I like a challenge."

He accelerated. Mark Three's thrusters spewed orange-red flames, trailing a long streak of light across the night sky. This was Mark Three's first appearance. All its upgrades had been based on Mark Two's data, correcting Mark Two's flaws, but they had only been simulated. Actual combat? This was its first time.

Boom—

Tony smashed through Area 16's roof. Chunks of concrete and rebar came crashing down from above as dust filled the air. He burst through the smoke and hovered in midair, the white light of his Palm Cannons cutting through the dust like twin searchlights.

Iron Monger stood in the center of the factory.

It had already activated. Its silver-gray metal shell gleamed coldly beneath the harsh white lights. It was three times larger than Mark Three. It was no illusion—Mark Three standing before it was like a grown man facing a little girl.

Tony fearlessly aimed at Iron Monger. Seeing the white glow in its chest, Tony's pupils contracted. He had shut down the weapons division because he did not want his inventions to hurt anyone else. That was why he had hidden the data so thoroughly, keeping it from prying eyes. And now, something he had created with his own hands was embedded in the chest of a massive killing machine.

"Tony." Obadiah's voice was calm, as though greeting him in an office. "You came."

Tony landed before him. His faceplate opened, revealing a face covered in sweat and dust. "Obie, end this."

Obadiah opened his faceplate as well, looking smug. "End this? It's only just begun."

As Iron Monger's faceplate closed again, it raised an arm, and its Gatling gun began to spin.

"Tony, you're a genius. But you're too emotional."

Obadiah's voice came from within the armor, carrying a metallic edge.

Tony's faceplate closed. "Emotional? I just don't want you turning Stark Industries into an even bigger weapons depot."

"Stark Industries has always been a weapons depot. You're the one who forgot that!"

Iron Monger opened fire.

The Gatling gun spat flames, bullets pouring out like a torrential downpour. Tony did not take them head-on. His thrusters fired at full power as he shot upward. Bullets grazed the soles of his feet and slammed into the wall behind him—concrete fragments sprayed everywhere, and the wall was riddled with holes, exposing the rebar within. Dust spread through the air, thick with the smell of gunpowder and the harsh grit of cement powder.

Tony rolled through the air and fired both Palm Cannons. Two blue beams struck Iron Monger's chest armor, leaving only a few shallow scratches. Iron Monger did not budge. It did not even sway.

Energy display: 60%.

Tony frowned. The old core's output was insufficient. His Palm Cannons were operating at only sixty percent of their normal power. In earlier tests, they had punched through steel plates several centimeters thick, while Iron Monger's chest armor was at least ten centimeters thick.

Iron Monger charged. Its steps were heavy, each one making the ground tremble. A thick mechanical arm swept toward him with a howl of displaced air. Tony twisted aside, and Iron Monger's arm smashed into a concrete pillar. Boom— The pillar snapped, its upper half crashing down as rubble scattered.

Tony flew behind Iron Monger, aiming both Palm Cannons at its back armor. Two beams struck the same spot. Iron Monger staggered, took a step forward to steady itself, then turned and threw a punch.

Iron Monger's fist drove toward Tony's chest.

The force behind that punch was like a freight train. It grazed Mark Three's shoulder, yet even the residual force sent Tony flying into a wall. The beautiful red-and-gold armor instantly became battle-damaged.

This was the first time he had been hit in actual combat. It was completely different from what he had imagined, and he had not been prepared at all.

"JARVIS, where's its weakness?" Tony's voice held a trace of urgency and lingering fear.

"Sir, analysis indicates that Iron Monger's design is similar to Mark Two's."

Tony got up from the ground. He remembered that test flight, when Mark Two had frozen at high altitude and shut down completely. Afterward, he had redesigned Mark Three's related systems. Iron Monger had never gone through that.

"How much energy will it take to lure it to high altitude?"

"With current energy reserves, you have one chance to climb."

"One chance is enough."

Tony fired his thrusters at full power and charged Iron Monger. This time, he did not dodge. He aimed both Palm Cannons at Iron Monger's chest—not to attack, but to draw its attention.

Just as expected, Iron Monger reached out to grab him. Tony weaved between its arms, then abruptly shot upward.

Thrusters at full power. Mark Three tore through the air like a red-and-gold bullet, shooting into the night sky.

Iron Monger looked up at him. Obadiah's voice came through. "You think I can't fly? You can't run."

Flames burst from Iron Monger's feet and back. The massive armor rose from the ground like a rocket and gave chase. Though far more cumbersome than Mark Three, its thrusters were more powerful, enough to keep up.

The two suits climbed through the night sky, one after the other. The lights of Los Angeles shrank beneath them, becoming a blurred sea of golden points.

Altitude: 3,000 meters. 5,000 meters. 8,000 meters.

The air grew colder and colder. Tony's anti-icing system worked normally. Only a thin layer of frost formed on the armor's surface, quickly melted away by the heating system. But Iron Monger was different—ice began forming across its shell.

It started with its arms. Tiny ice crystals spread across the silver-gray metal shell. Then came the chest armor, covered by a thin layer of white frost. Finally, the thruster nozzles. Ice blocked the flames' exit, and the orange-red exhaust began to flicker, brightening and dimming.

Obadiah was still immersed in his excitement, completely unaware.

Altitude: 10,000 meters.

Iron Monger's thrusters died. The orange-red flames vanished entirely, and the massive armor lost power and began free-falling. It tumbled through the night sky, the ice shattering into countless tiny fragments that glittered beneath the moonlight.

Obadiah's roar carried panic. "Tony—!"

Iron Monger crashed onto a factory building at Stark Industries Headquarters.

It smashed through the roof and landed in a heap of wreckage. Its massive metal shell was embedded in rubble, smoking. Arcs of electricity danced across the armor's surface a few times before fading. Concrete chunks slid off it and hit the ground with dull thuds. Dust spread outward like a gray fog.

Tony circled overhead, his faceplate closed as blue data displays flickered before his eyes. Energy display: 15%. There was still some left.

He looked down at the wreckage. Iron Monger did not move. Its silver-gray armor was covered in cracks from the ice, its thruster nozzles still clogged with ice shards. The Arc Reactor in its chest was still glowing, but dimly.

"JARVIS, does it still have power?"

"Iron Monger's propulsion system has failed. Its weapons systems are offline. Arc Reactor energy output has dropped to 12%. Armor structural integrity has been compromised."

Tony hesitated for a second. Obadiah was inside. He might have passed out, or he might be playing dead. But Tony could not just leave. The core was still in Iron Monger's chest. He had to take it back.

He slowly descended, landing several meters in front of Iron Monger. His metal boots crunched over gravel. He took two steps forward, his Palm Cannons warming up as white light pulsed in the center of his palms.

"Obie." He called out. There was no response.

He stepped closer. Iron Monger's head armor hung low, like a defeated beast. Tony reached out, preparing to remove the Arc Reactor from its chest.

Iron Monger moved.

There was no warning. No mechanical sound. A massive mechanical arm suddenly swept across the ground, moving far too fast for a machine that had supposedly crashed.

Tony had no time to dodge. Iron Monger's fist smashed into his side, sending him flying like a pebble. He crashed into a concrete pillar. The pillar broke, and he slammed into the ground, rolling twice.

The armor let out a piercing metallic groan, its side plating caving in.

Tony clutched his side in pain and braced himself against the ground to stand, but Iron Monger was already on its feet. Its enormous shadow covered him. Obadiah's voice came from within the armor, hoarse and mad. "You think you won? You think you won? You're too naive, child."

Iron Monger raised its foot and stomped down.

Tony rolled away. Iron Monger's foot smashed into where he had been lying, scattering rubble and leaving a crater in the ground.

He scrambled up and ignited his thrusters, trying to widen the distance. But Iron Monger was faster. Its mechanical arm grabbed his leg, yanked him from midair, and slammed him into the ground. Tony's back struck the rubble, pain blackening his vision.

Obadiah's voice came from above. "Your little tricks are over, Tony."

Then, like a rag doll, Iron Monger grabbed him by the leg and hurled him into a concrete wall. Spiderweb-like cracks instantly spread across the wall.