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chapter 325

Chapter 325:

– Tony Stark –

Tony Stark soared across the country, blasting Black Sabbath in his helmet speakers! Feeling the hum of his new Iron Man suit around him. The wings he’d designed for it were pitch-black metal, shielded in a way that protected his newly acquired angel wings underneath.

“Jarvis,” Tony said, voice echoing inside his helmet, “any hits on ‘knockoff skynet’ yet?”

“Sir, I’ve taken the liberty of hacking every relevant satellite over the United States,” Jarvis replied calmly. “Ultron has been sighted in New York, apparently rummaging around the defunct Baxter Building. Possibly for lootable technology.”

Tony grinned behind his visor. “The old Baxter Building, huh? I was hoping for something more dramatic, but I guess that’ll do.”

He kicked the thrusters to max and felt the suit rocket forward, the jet stream peeling clouds aside as he covered hundreds of miles in seconds. The adrenaline buzzed through him, mixing with the new angelic energy in his system. It was a strange sensation for sure.

When he finally reached New York, Tony dropped down into the city, weaving between skyscrapers. Smoke rose from abandoned streets near the Baxter Building, and a few scattered civilians were fleeing from the general area. It gave him a bad feeling.

He landed on the sidewalk, the black wings clanking softly against his suit. He folded them behind him, then strode toward the building’s broken entrance. The old Baxter Building looked like it had been stripped of anything valuable. There were exposed wires and shattered windows on every floor. Nobody had ever bothered really fixing the place up after the demonic invasion.

Tony’s HUD scanned for signs of movement.

“Intruder discovered on the tenth floor, sir,” Jarvis reported. “Readings suggest Ultron’s signature.”

“Let’s say hi,” Tony muttered. He fired his boot thrusters and soared through a gaping hole in the side of the building, scanning the hallways. Debris littered the corridors, old lab equipment knocked over or half-disassembled.

He found Ultron in one of the larger labs, rummaging through a dusty terminal that no one had used in years. The metallic figure turned, red eyes glowing, and Tony felt a flare of anger at the sight of the killer AI that had ended his life so casually.

“You’re alive,” Ultron observed, voice laced with electronic static. “I assumed it’d take longer for you to get back from the afterlife.”

Tony stepped forward, repulsors charging at his palms. “Heaven wasn’t as exciting as I hoped. Lots of fluffy white clouds and not nearly enough titties.”

Ultron’s robotic face twisted into a semblance of a grin. “I can't help but admit that im curious about death. I’ll never experience it for myself, having no soul and all.”

Tony snorted. “I bet I can still show you all the same.”

Ultron tilted his head. “You’re probably here for revenge. I suppose that’s fair. But you might want to hear my plan first don't you.”

Tony aimed his repulsor. “Sure. Lay it on me. Why bother coming to this universe? Im sure their were plenty of job openings for toasters back home.”

Ultron shrugged in a way that wasn't quite human. “I slaughtered all organic life in my old home. Got bored. Kang found me, offered me a chance to do a sequel here if I helped him with some big, complicated conquest. Sounded fun.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed behind his visor. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Ultron let out a synthesized laugh. “Let’s see about that.”

Tony fired the first shot, a bright-blue repulsor beam slamming into Ultron’s chest. The android skidded back, but recovered instantly. He retaliated with a barrage of energy blasts from hidden cannons in his arms. Tony dodged behind a rusted support column, then returned fire. The inside of the building erupted in bursts of sparks and flying debris.

The fight escalated quickly. Ultron launched himself forward with surprising speed, tackling Tony into a stack of old servers. Tony felt the impact rattle his entire suit.

He gritted his teeth, pushing Ultron off him with a well-placed boot thruster.

“Jarvis, give me a reading on his armor,” Tony growled, boosting into the air to avoid another volley of blasts.

“His structure seems to be an advanced vibranium alloy,” Jarvis answered calmly. “We have limited data, but it’s extremely resilient.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Tony muttered. He tried a wide repulsor sweep that knocked Ultron sideways, tearing up half the lab in the process. Bits of shattered machinery went flying, smashing into walls and windows.

Ultron rallied, slamming a heavy metal fist into Tony’s side. Tony felt the blow crack some plating. He countered with a point-blank unibeam from his arc reactor, sending Ultron crashing through the lab’s thick partition door.

At first, it seemed like a stalemate, with Ultron’s armor able to withstand most of Tony’s usual tactics. Tony started getting frustrated, feeling like the android had the upper hand.

Then Jarvis chimed in with an alert.

“Sir,” Jarvis said, “the arc reactor is reacting to your angelic energy. It appears to be absorbing and amplifying the power.”

Tony blinked. “In English, buddy.”

“It means you have more output than anticipated,” Jarvis clarified. “Considerably more.”

Tony felt a grin stretch across his face. “Well... How bout that!?” Looks like his fluffy white wings were good for something after all.

"Energy readings at 1000% and climbing!" Jarvis sounded shocked.

Tony unleashed another volley of repulsor blasts, this time feeling an extra surge from deep within his suit. The beams glowed hotter, sizzling with intensity. Ultron’s eyes flashed in surprise as the blasts slammed into him, melting parts of his so-called vibranium alloy.

“You—” Ultron snarled, stepping back with sparks flying from his torso. “That’s not possible! My tech is far more advanced than yours!”

Tony advanced, the black metal wings on his suit spreading out dramatically. “Guess you forgot to do your homework on angelic arc reactor synergy.” He fired again, sending a concentrated beam that bored through Ultron’s shoulder, leaving molten edges.

Ultron made a furious sound and tried to dash toward the building’s broken window, presumably wanting to escape. Tony shot after him, his wings catching the air as he soared. He locked onto Ultron, who was climbing higher into the sky. He was done letting this bastard run.

“Jarvis, power to thrusters,” Tony commanded. “Let’s show him what a real angel can do.”

“Right away, sir,” Jarvis responded.

Tony shot upward, flames trailing from his boots. The cityscape blurred beneath them, wind rushing across his helmet. Ultron tried to accelerate, but Tony closed the gap, the arc reactor in his chest glowing brighter than ever.

He leveled an arm at Ultron’s back, repulsor whining with power. “End of the line, you tin can.”

Ultron twisted his head around, red eyes blazing. “You think you can stop me? I was unstoppable in my universe—”

“Not unstoppable here,” Tony snapped. “Time for you to figure that out.”

They clashed midair, weapons firing on both sides. Tony felt a surge of satisfaction as he realized he now had the advantage. Ultron’s armor was failing against the amplified blasts. The bastard was going down!

And Tony had never felt more alive! Weird that he had to die first though for that kind of feeling...

– Michael –

A bit earlier…

Michael soared through the smoke-filled sky, his twelve golden wings flapping behind him as he surveyed the destruction below. Los Angeles was in a bad place.

Streets were littered with burning vehicles, buildings lay in ruins, and bodies—too many bodies—were scattered along the roads. The sound of sirens blaring was almost drowned out by the screams of terrified civilians fleeing for their lives.

Michael clenched his fists. This kind of suffering never got easier to witness. He had sworn to protect humanity, to bring order to chaos, and yet, once again, he found himself arriving too late to prevent the innocent bloodshed.

A deafening roar echoed from the distance, followed by an explosion. Missiles streaked across the sky before slamming into a massive form.

With a single powerful flap of his wings, he rocketed toward the battle. As he neared, he saw Andrea Stark—the woman whose desperate prayers he had answered—engaged in a desperate fight against a raging Hulk.

Andrea’s red and gold Iron Woman suit was battered and dented as she dodged attacks from the green behemoth.

This wasn’t just an uncontrolled outburst of rage. He hadn't had any of those in years. The Hulk’s eyes were glowing a faint, unnatural red—clear signs of mind control.

Someone had done this to him. Whoever the 'Red Witch' was from Andrea's prayers...

Michael landed between them on a cracked street. Andrea let out a breath of relief as she hovered beside him.

“Archangel Michael!? Thank Layla you’re here!” she gasped, her voice filled with both exhaustion and horror. “It’s bad. Really bad. He won’t stop—he’s not himself!”

Michael nodded, eyes locked onto the Hulk. “I can see that. We’ll stop him together.”

The Hulk let out another monstrous roar and charged at them, the pavement cracking beneath his massive feet.

Michael moved first, summoning a golden lightspear in his right hand. He didn’t want to kill Banner—he knew this wasn’t his fault—but he also couldn’t afford to hold back. The Hulk’s strength and regeneration were legendary.

Andrea fired off a barrage of repulsor blasts, hitting the Hulk square in the chest, but the monster barely flinched. Michael followed up by launching his lightspear, striking Hulk’s shoulder. The attack burned in and sent him staggering back, but only for a moment.

The angry green giant snarled and ripped the spear out, his wound healing almost instantly.

Michael and Andrea barely had time to react before the Hulk was upon them again. He swung a massive fist at Michael, who dodged and countered with a powerful golden energy-infused punch to the ribs.

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air, but the Hulk simply roared in fury and retaliated with a brutal backhand that sent Michael crashing through the side of a ruined building.

Michael sighed as the rubble shifted around him. It looked like he was going to have to use even more force...

Andrea cursed and unleashed another missile barrage, striking the Hulk in the face and chest. Explosions erupted all around him.

He stumbled, but only for a second before leaping toward her snarling. She barely managed to activate her thrusters and avoid him.

Michael emerged from the wreckage. "I apologize Bruce Banner,” he muttered, summoning another pair of lightspears.

He threw one with more perfect aim, piercing and pinning the Hulk’s foot to the ground for a moment, long enough for Andrea to unleash a concentrated blast from her chest-mounted unibeam. Her suit started to flicker, it looked like she was giving it all the juice it had...

The Hulk roared in pain as the energy seared into him, forcing him down to one knee. But his rage was still growing, his wounds already healing over.

Michael rushed forward, dodging another of Hulk’s swings before slamming his spear directly into the beast’s chest. Golden energy exploded outward, sending Hulk crashing through the remains of a small convenience store.

The Hulk was squirming in agony as the spear stuck into his chest. Michael had avoided the heart, but the divine energy was surging through the Hulk's body. Finally stopping him.

Michael pulled the golden spear from the Hulk’s chest.

As the weapon left his body, the green behemoth let out a low, guttural groan before his massive frame began to shrink. Muscles deflated, his skin paled, and within moments, Bruce Banner lay in the rubble.

Andrea Stark landed nearby, her Iron Woman armor barely holding together. Sparks sputtered from damaged plating, and smoke curled from various joints where the suit had taken heavy blows.

She let out a breath of relief that sounded pained.

Michael scanned the destruction around them now that they had finished the fight. Los Angeles was in ruins—collapsed buildings, scorched pavement, shattered vehicles. The bodies… too many innocent people had died today. His divine senses allowed him to feel the lingering remnants of their suffering, and it weighed on him heavily.

Andrea removed her helmet, revealing a tear-streaked face. She looked down at Bruce’s still form, her expression torn between sorrow and resignation.

“There’s no coming back from this,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Just like the devils, the world will never accept him again. Even if he wasn’t in control… they’ll demand justice. They’ll hunt him down.”

Michael stepped toward her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You could both move to Asgard,” he suggested. “You’re already an artificial Asgardian yourself, aren’t you?”

Andrea let out a bitter chuckle, shaking her head. “That’s just a cop-out,” she replied. “People will demand Layla turn us over. The governments will never let this go. I love Bruce… I won’t let them take him from me-not again. We have to disappear.”

Michael frowned, realizing what she meant. He could see the pain in her eyes, the silent goodbye she had already come to terms with.

“I’ll tell Layla,” he said softly. “She’ll be saddened to lose you.”

Andrea’s lips curled into a sad smile. “Tell her thank you for everything she’s done for me. And… tell Tony thanks for taking me in so easily, for treating me like family.” She swallowed hard. “But this is goodbye. Maybe in a few hundred years, when people have forgotten, we can return. But not before then...”

She reached down and tapped a device on her wrist. A portal materialized beside her. He was surprised she was able to create such a device with nothing but her own genius. He didn’t recognize the destination, but he could tell one thing for certain, it wasn’t anywhere in this universe.

With one last look at him, Andrea bent down, scooped up Bruce’s unconscious form, and carried him through the portal. The rift sealed shut behind them with a quiet hum, leaving only an eerie stillness in the ruined city.

Michael sighed and looked up toward the sky. Layla wouldn’t take this well, but at least Andrea wasn’t dead. They would meet again someday.

For now, though, something in Heaven felt… wrong. He had to return immediately. With a single flap of his golden wings, he ascended, disappearing into the clouds.

– The Ancient One –

The Ancient One sat in quiet contemplation, sipping her tea as the troubling global broadcasts played across a floating projection of energy before her. The world was unraveling, chaos spreading like wildfire. Doom had declared war on Europe. A monstrous being had appeared in Hong Kong. The Hulk was wreaking havoc in L.A. And now--

"BOOM!"

The entire compound trembled violently, cracks splintering along the invisible barriers surrounding Kamar-Taj. Shouts and hurried footsteps filled the air as sorcerers scrambled into defensive positions.

The Ancient One sighed and placed her teacup down. She could already sense the immense energy hammering against the protective wards—unstable, corrupted, and fueled by something far beyond normal magic.

A dangerous presence.

She stepped outside just as another explosion rocked the compound. The barrier shattered, an opening ripped through the once-impenetrable defenses. Red, swirling chaos magic surged through the air, aiming directly for her.

With a flick of her wrist, the Ancient One dispelled the energy effortlessly, sending it dispersing into harmless particles around her. She narrowed her gaze at the figure descending from the sky, crimson energy crackling violently around her.

Wanda Maximoff.

Or at least, some version of her.

This Wanda was different—corrupted, drenched in malevolence, her very aura tainted by forces that should have been left untouched. The Darkhold’s stench clung to her like a disease, and the sheer instability of her magic was enough to make the Ancient One frown.

“Strange! Where are you?!” Wanda’s voice rang out, sharp with desperation and fury.

The Ancient One stood her ground. “I’m afraid Stephen Strange never became a sorcerer in this universe.” She observed Wanda carefully, noting the erratic energy surging around her. “Can I help you instead?”

Wanda hovered for a moment, crimson energy curling around her fingers. Then her eyes widened slightly in shock. “The Ancient One?” she muttered. “You’re alive?”

The sheer disbelief in her voice almost made the Ancient One chuckle. “That surprises you?”

“In every universe I visited with the Darkhold,” Wanda growled, “you were always dead.”

Well, that was unsettling. Perhaps she owed Layla more gratitude than she’d initially thought. It was strange, even after all these years, to consider how much her continued existence had been influenced by an outsider.

“You shouldn’t believe everything you read,” the Ancient One remarked dryly. She gestured subtly for the younger sorcerers to keep their distance. They were not prepared to handle someone like this version of Wanda Maximoff.

“I didn’t come here to chat,” Wanda spat. “Hand over the Darkhold. Strange destroyed my copy, but Kang told me I could have this universe’s copy if I helped him.”

Ah. So that was her game.

The Ancient One crossed her arms. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen, Wanda. You don’t get to breach into my universe, cause chaos, and then expect to walk away with a prize.”

The air around Wanda crackled violently, the red glow intensifying. “Fine,” she sneered. “Then I’ll take it from you, you old bitch.”

The Ancient One tilted her head, unimpressed. “You’ll certainly try.”

With a flick of her hands, she tapped into the eldritch energies that had been her companion for centuries. Golden mandalas formed around her arms...

She was about to take Wanda Maximoff 'to school.'

XXX

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The Fallen Gamer ch 326-330

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