Chapter 90: Tony and Obadiah Fight III
Back below…
Tony flew backward from a repulsor blast, then flipped midair and landed hard in a three-point stance. Sparks scattered around his boots.
Obadiah's Iron Monger loomed at the far end of the corridor, his arc core burning brighter now, the suit steaming and straining under its own weight.
"You're good, Tony," Obadiah growled through the suit's speakers. "But I have something you don't—scale. You can't fight brute force."
"I'm not trying to," Tony shot back, rising.
"I'm just stalling."
Obadiah paused.
Then the building above them shook again—this time not from impact, but from something leaving.
A faint ripple in the pressure. The presence of the familiar eye was gone.
Tony's HUD chimed once.
[Extraction Complete – Pepper Potts relocated to Stark Tower rooftop – Status: Safe.]
He exhaled through his teeth.
"Right," he muttered.
"Now it's just us."
The Mark II flared with full power, panels shifting to active combat mode. Servos tightened. Targeting lines zeroed in.
Obadiah charged again, roaring inside the Iron Monger suit.
And Tony flew forward to meet him head-on.
The reinforced rooftop trembled as Tony Stark and Obadiah Stane crashed through the upper floors, locked in a brutal aerial struggle. Sparks flew as Iron Man and Iron Monger slammed into steel beams and concrete walls, tearing through offices and support columns until they burst out into the night sky above the city.
The skyline of Los Angeles stretched out around them—brilliant and chaotic, bathed in the flashing red and gold of the battle above.
BOOM!
They landed hard.
Obadiah's bulkier suit cracked the rooftop on impact, leaving a spiderweb of fractured concrete beneath him. Tony tumbled across the gravel, rolled once, and came up in a crouch—armor whirring.
Down on the streets, dozens of pedestrians had gathered, phones raised, some filming, others gasping as they stared skyward.
"Is that... two high tech armors?"
"No way. That has to be Stark tech, right?"
"Dude, is this, like, a movie shoot or something?"
"Bro, this is real. Look at the lights on that one! That Armor suit is real!"
The battle above played out like a myth unfolding in real time.
Obadiah rose, reactor pulsing with angry energy. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?"
Tony's HUD blinked and recalibrated. "Says the guy who thought blowing up a cave would solve his problems."
Obadiah growled. "I gave you everything. I protected you. You were supposed to play your part!"
"I did," Tony replied coldly, raising a palm. "I built a better future. You just didn't like it."
WHOOOSH.
Tony launched forward, repulsors screaming.
Obadiah answered with a blast from his shoulder thrusters, charging like a tank.
CLANG!
Fist met reinforced alloy. Sparks exploded.
The rooftop groaned under the titanic exchange. Obadiah swung a brutal hook, but Tony ducked beneath it and countered—blasting the Iron Monger's knee joint with a precision repulsor burst.
"Direct hit," JARVIS confirmed in Tony's earpiece.
The larger suit staggered.
Tony didn't let up. He rose slightly into the air and unleashed a storm of micro-missiles—each one a needle of precision aimed at structural weak points.
BOOM! BOOM!
Smoke hissed from vents. Obadiah stumbled.
"Core destabilizing," JARVIS warned.
"Good," Tony muttered. "That's the idea."
He scanned the rooftop—his HUD locking onto a massive overhead arc reactor panel near the center. An old backup project—never completed, but functional.
"JARVIS, override the arc cell conduit. I want a full discharge—now."
"Sir, the feedback might cause—"
"Do it!"
Below, the onlookers gasped as the lights in Stark Tower's upper levels flickered. Rumors spread.
"Are they blowing up Stark Industries?!"
"What are they doing up there?!"
Back on the rooftop, Obadiah roared, lunging for Tony one final time.
Tony rose above the arc panel, letting his thrusters hover him just out of reach. "NOW!"
KA-CHUNK.
The arc reactor beneath the roof activated—humming with growing intensity.
Then—
FLASH.
A beam of pure energy exploded skyward.
Both suits were swallowed in white light.
Obadiah howled in pain—his systems melting down, core overloading. The Iron Monger shook violently, then—
BOOOOOOM!!
A thunderous explosion rocked the rooftop.
Metal shrieked. Flame burst into the sky. The sound echoed across the city as bits of Obadiah's armor rained down in smoldering pieces.
Tony was blown back, his armor flickering with damaged systems. He hit the far ledge of the rooftop hard, nearly rolling off the edge.
Silence.
Just the crackle of dying sparks and the rising smoke.
Then—
Chime.
[Vital signs stable. External threats: neutralized.]
Tony groaned. "JARVIS… tell me I looked cool on the cameras."
"I regret to inform you that most cameras were destroyed during the blast, sir."
Tony snorted. "Of course. Classic."
Down on the street, people were cheering, others still recording, jaws dropped.
"I got it all, man! This is going viral!"
"What was that suit with the giant arms?!"
"Who knows, but I am now glad I didn't sold my Stark Stocks."
A sudden shimmer cut through the air above.
Descending from the clouds, Spectra—Tony's demonic, one-eyed aerial companion—glided downward. His large wings tucked back as he hovered.
In his grip, suspended in a soft field of shielding magic, was—
Pepper Potts.
She landed beside Tony and ran to him instantly. "Tony!"
He removed the damaged helmet. His face was singed, his eyes bloodshot, but his smile was real.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I should be asking you that," she said, eyes glassy. "You nearly died."
Tony gave a half-laugh. "Yeah. Happens every other Tuesday now, apparently."
She clutched his arm. "Don't do this again."
He looked back at the rooftop—smoldering metal, fractured glass, and the remnants of what once was trust.
Then, back at Pepper.
"Not planing too.....unless I look cool doing it."
Stark Industries Rooftop – Minutes Later
The smoke from the explosion still clung to the air, drifting like a dark veil over the ruins of the rooftop. Emergency sirens wailed in the distance, and fire crews had already begun to mobilize toward the tower.
But above them—moving faster than local authorities—came a dark, sleek aircraft.
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