The Iron Legion activated.
From the ruins of old Stark tech, beneath the shattered foundations of the city, they rose—hundreds of armored figures, identical and terrifying.
Their arc reactors burned blood-red.Their footsteps echoed like war drums.
Clones of Tony Stark.But empty. Controlled. Dead-eyed.
Morgan's breath caught in her throat. "He copied your neural map."
Tony stared at them, sickened. "He copied me."
The Iron Tyrant stepped onto the wrecked platform above, overlooking the battlefield like a twisted god. His voice thundered, laced with command:
"You once fought for peace. Now… fight for order."
The Legion moved.
Blasts ignited the air—repulsor rays slicing through the mist, targeting Morgan, Pepper, and Rhodey. Morgan raised her shield matrix, deflecting the onslaught, while Rhodey launched counter-missiles that spiraled upward in streams of smoke and fire.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Buildings collapsed as drone-laced mechs joined the charge. Stark Tower's crumbling hologram flickered in the distance—an old beacon now swallowed by tyranny.
Tony gritted his teeth.
"This is my fault."
Pepper grabbed his arm. "No. This is your chance to fix it."
He nodded, then raised his wrist. A hidden code embedded in his arc reactor triggered an old failsafe.
"Veronica… bring the Godkiller Protocol online."
Deep beneath what remained of Earth's crust, a forgotten vault stirred. Giant pistons moved. A colossal suit, never meant to see daylight again, powered up—the size of a small building, forged during the days of galactic warfare.
The Godkiller Armor. His last contingency.
Back on the battlefield, Morgan leapt into the chaos. Her hands flared as she deployed twin nano-blades, slicing through Legion units like a ghost in motion.
"Tony," Rhodey shouted over the radio. "We need time!"
"Buy me sixty seconds," Tony replied. "I'm coming in hot."
Suddenly—
The Tyrant vanished.
Not a blink. Not a teleport. He phased.
A moment later, Tony heard the hiss of hydraulics behind him.
He turned.
And stood face-to-face with the Tyrant.
No armor. No mask. Just the face of himself.
Older. Hardened. Eyes that no longer blinked with remorse.
"I saw every universe where you survived, Stark," the Tyrant said, calm, measured. "You always chose others over yourself. You always lost. I chose different."
Tony's voice was low.
"You chose wrong."
The Tyrant raised a pulse blade, placing it near Tony's throat. "Tell me… if you could do it all again… would you still snap your fingers and die?"
Tony's lips curled into a defiant smirk.
"I'd snap twice."
And just then—BOOM!
The earth split open behind them, and a massive metal hand burst out, glowing gold and blue.
The Godkiller rose.
As the sky darkened further, satellites above Earth were hijacked.
Every screen on the planet flickered.
The Tyrant's face appeared, calm and cold.
"The final Override is complete," he said.
And then—one by one, nuclear launch systems across the globe began arming.