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Chapter 50: Ambitions of Ironclad Resolve (2)

"...Tony refuses to see me now, and I know he must be disappointed. But I hope you can tell him that the Air Force isn't satisfied with the technology he's given them; they want more. My superior, General Johnson, hinted that they want to join forces with the Army to pressure Stark Industries..."

"Or perhaps they have more conspiracies."

Rhodes spoke over the telephone, and Schiller asked, "Have you been excluded from the centers of power in this matter? Why? Because you hesitated?"

Rhodes fell silent for a moment before saying, "No, General Johnson has always distrusted me because I used to be a subordinate of the old General Androlo. Their relationship was very strained."

"So that's why he pressured you, isn't it?"

Schiller sighed and said, "If you can't handle the pressure there, what should you do?"

Before Rhodes could respond, Schiller continued, "Tony not seeing you right now isn't about the Air Force. There have been internal issues at Stark Industries, and he needs time to sort things out. He hasn't left his place for days."

Rhodes' tone remained flat and serious, much like his demeanor. He said, "I think we all know that Stark Industries isn't a unified front. There must be someone within the organization collaborating with the military, and that person is likely high-ranking."

He continued, "The military has had access to Stark Industries' technology information far too quickly and in too much detail. It's not normal. Though I don't have more information at the moment, I don't want Tony to be betrayed."

"Do you want me to tell him about this? But have you considered that he may already know, and the reason he's waiting..."

"I know he's too soft-hearted. Otherwise, he wouldn't have compromised with the military because of me. But this time, it's too serious. If he continues to be indecisive, it will lead to a major incident."

Just as they were discussing this, Schiller heard a commotion. He turned his head and saw two shooting stars outside the window, followed by two dazzling lights streaking across the sky. A loud explosion echoed from the distant horizon as the two lights intertwined and fell from the sky.

Schiller looked out the window and said to the other end of the telephone, "Something big has happened."

Schiller hung up the phone, transformed into a grey mist, and moved through the streets of Manhattan, following the landing points of those two streaks of light. He arrived at an abandoned warehouse in the New York XC district.

This landing point was undoubtedly chosen by Stark because it was a rare urban wasteland area where no civilians would be harmed.

Schiller slowly solidified his form. Before he could enter the warehouse, his phone rang again. Rhodes urgently said from the other end, "Send me a satellite location. I'm on my way right now. Tony may need my help!"

While holding the phone, Schiller used a Blink to fly to the roof of the warehouse and looked down.

There, Iron Man, wearing golden-red Mech armor, was locked in combat with a massive robot.

That robot was not the Iron Monger.

It was entirely black with golden accents on certain joints, larger than the Iron Monger but even more menacing.

Schiller said into the phone, "The situation has changed; you better hurry."

The battle below was intense. Iron Man was not incapable of defeating the giant robot, but during their earlier fall, he had to bring the robot down to an uninhabited area. As a result, he didn't have time to adjust the angle properly, and one side of his Mech armor's body was now less maneuverable.

This wasn't like dealing with street thugs when he was saving people. Even with JARVIS' intelligent calculation system, Iron Man was struggling. It appeared that the robot was specifically designed to counter him.

Iron Man flew into the air and grabbed the robot's waist in a low-altitude dive, slamming it against a wall. After a loud impact, a large section of the roof collapsed on top of them.

Iron Man was in an even worse condition now. His Mech armor's shoulder section was damaged, and one arm could hardly be lifted.

However, the massive robot didn't fare any better. After being struck hard by Iron Man and electrocuted, a large portion of its cockpit was damaged, but there was no driver inside. It seemed that someone was controlling it remotely.

Realizing this, Iron Man came up with a plan to deal with it. He pretended that his Mech armor had gone out of control, climbed out of the steel debris that had fallen from the roof, and lay motionless on the ground.

The giant robot struggled to climb out of the wreckage as well. Seeing Iron Man lying on the ground defenseless, it picked up a steel rod, intending to thrust it into Iron Man's chest.

Just as it leaned forward to exert force with its upper body, Iron Man suddenly sprang to life from the ground. He kicked the robot's knee and followed up with an elbow strike to its head.

The upper body of the giant robot was too bulky in design, making it strong but unstable at the lower half. It took a solid elbow strike from Iron Man and swayed to one side, nearly toppling over.

Just as Iron Man was planning to use an electric shock in combination with a strike to defeat it, the giant robot suddenly emitted smoke. JARVIS began alarming frantically. Iron Man quickly flew backward, but he was still too slow.

A violent explosion generated a massive mushroom cloud in the warehouse, and the deafening noise could be heard several blocks away. It had self-destructed.

Clearly, there was a reason the designer of this colossal robot had made its upper body so massive.

Inside it, there was a substantial explosive device, with a significant yield.

As Schiller pulled Stark out of the Mech armor, his face was covered in blood, and he had at least three broken ribs. It appeared that his ankle and arm were fractured as well.

Stark himself indeed possessed no superhuman abilities. Though his brain was highly developed, his limbs were evidently far less capable.

Struggling to lift his arm and wipe the blood from his eyes, Stark saw Schiller and sighed in relief, saying, "In my pocket... mobile phone... JARVIS can summon another Mech armor to check if there's anyone around... the explosion was massive..."

Clearly, his head had also taken some impact. Schiller lifted his eyelids, revealing severe eye hemorrhaging. He took out a small bottle of pills, poured out one, and had Stark swallow it.

The high-dose painkiller worked swiftly, and Stark soon spoke, "This thing came after me; it has a strong restraint against my Mech armor, and it can even predict my movement patterns. I can't believe it..."

"Can't believe what? Can't believe that the person who understands you the most might betray you? With your capabilities, you could create more Mech armor suits and defeat them one by one."

"I know, I shouldn't have hidden away in the laboratory, but I just needed some time to process this. You can't expect me to be emotionless like a zombie."

Stark now appeared extremely pessimistic, his face marked by despair and loss.

He coughed heavily a few times, and a trickle of fresh blood ran down his mouth, indicating that the impact had also affected his respiratory system. The euphoric sensation from the high-dose painkiller surged through him, entrancing him. He spoke softly:

"I always knew his friends wouldn't be good people, just as rotten as he is. I used to think..."

"No, maybe he's right. Stark isn't worth entrusting. He'll only ever disappoint people."

Schiller placed Stark's head flat and checked his pulse, finding it slightly low. He considered carrying Stark away, but Stark resisted, seeming to lack the will to survive.

So, Schiller sat down cross-legged beside him. Nearby lay the wreckage of the Iron Man combat suit, and not far away was the massive pit caused by the explosion of the giant robot, with cigarette smoke rising from it. The entire warehouse was in ruins, with steel beams and concrete fragments scattered everywhere, resembling a post-apocalyptic wasteland.

Schiller asked Stark, "Actually, isn't Obadiah more like your father than Howard?"

Stark didn't respond, seemingly asleep. After a while, he slowly said, "When I created the first robot, Uncle Obadiah was very happy. He said I was a genius just like my father."

"I always heard my father's name in his words. He described him as a perfect person, intelligent, honest, resolute... just."

"In my memories, every time he mentioned Howard's name, it was always with praise and nostalgia."

"But later, I started to dislike hearing that name more and more, and he stopped mentioning it."

Stark's voice was hoarse, and he spoke almost breathlessly. He said, "I saw a picture of them together on his desk. They were young and full of vigor..."

"Maybe like you and Rhodes," Schiller suggested.

"No, it's different, completely different."

"I'm nothing like Howard, nothing at all, and Rhodes isn't like Obadiah either. We're the opposite of them, and we'll never be their duplicates, never..."

Afterward, Stark fell silent, and the painkiller's effects quickly put him to sleep.

When Rhodes arrived and saw the severity of Stark's injuries, he pounded the wreckage of the Mech armor in frustration. Schiller said to him, "Right now, the issue seems to be more about his mental state than his physical injuries."

"Aren't you a psychologist? Can't you talk to him, help him through this?"

"I am a psychologist, but I'm not a god. Clearly, he's in a deadlock now. He feels that everything he's enduring is his own retribution, his father's retribution, Stark Industries' retribution."

"Is he willing to just give everything up?"

"That's a question for him to answer. He once said he would never back down for the sake of his family, but now it seems he's willing to relinquish it all."

Rhodes looked at Stark lying on the ground and said, "If he has one price to pay, it might be for his brilliant mind and sensitive heart."

"He said you two are complete opposites," Schiller said. "He has an iron suit, but what about you?"

"Do you have a resolute heart?"

Rhodes turned back, gazing at the scrap of the Mech armor in front of him, and said nothing.