A fiery red glow began to spread across Killian's body. The surrounding air distorted from the sheer heat, blurring his form like a mirage.
"Sir, the enemy's surface temperature has now exceeded five thousand degrees Celsius," J.A.R.V.I.S. reported, his voice noticeably tense within the suit.
"Oh, fantastic," Stark muttered. "I love hearing stuff like that."
From the mont he'd seen Killian, he knew—this guy was the final boss. He'd hoped he was wrong. He wasn't.
Killian's eyes glinted with deranged triumph. "Do you rember the International Biology Conference, Tony?"
Back then, Killian had approached Stark during the conference, pitching his research and begging for funding. Tony barely glanced his way. He was far more interested in the beautiful woman beside him than so unhinged scientist rambling about "breakthrough viruses."
Killian had waited on a rooftop all night that day, hoping Stark would show. But he never did.
That night, despair swallowed Killian whole. He'd nearly stepped off the ledge. And in that mont… Stark unknowingly planted the seed of a demon in his heart.
Half a year later, inside a top-secret Pioneer Tech lab...
"President… are you sure about this?" a nervous researcher asked.
"Absolutely," Killian said, face resolute. "Only by becoming the perfect creature can we truly prove the Extremis Virus's potential."
He walked into the chamber and lay on the reinforced test bed. The researchers began injecting massive doses of the virus into his veins.
"Dude, isn't that thing gonna explode?" one tech whispered.
"Relax. Even if a bomb goes off in there, this chamber won't crack," the monitoring supervisor said calmly.
Then ca the screams.
Killian howled in agony. The lab's temperature spiked rapidly.
Three thousand degrees.
Four thousand.
Five thousand.
Monitoring devices shorted out one by one, lting under the hellish heat. The entire system failed.
"What's that noise?" soone whispered in fear.
A roar—bestial and inhuman—echoed from the chamber. Then ca the pounding: tal walls groaning and warping under unimaginable force.
The noise stopped. A brief silence.
Everyone exhaled.
Until—
BOOM.
A deafening explosion vaporized everything. Every living thing in the room was flash-fried into nothing. No one knew what happened inside.
All that remained in the scorched ruins was a black silhouette… slowly glowing with pulsating red light. A river of molten, lava-like fluid crawled across his skin.
Killian erged, laughing maniacally.
He had undergone the ultimate transformation.
He was the perfect being now.
__
Back in the present, Killian sneered. "So? Was that little story supposed to win your sympathy?" Stark rasped.
"No, no, of course not," Killian replied mockingly. "It's just a little bedti story—before you die."
With that, Killian stomped the ground—lting it—and launched himself at Stark like a red cot. His fist, radiating intense heat and energy, smashed into the MK43 suit.
A strange force overwheld Stark, like being punched by molten steel and drowned at the sa ti. The heat pierced the armor's insulation and clawed into his body.
He felt like a piece of toast.
Blow after blow rained down. Stark was forced into full defense mode.
Inside the armor, warning lights flared red. Damage reports. Overheating alerts. The suit was falling apart.
Then, with a whip-like kick, Killian slamd into Stark's arm. The sharp pain shot through him—but it gave Stark a chance to break free and launch himself into the sky.
Smoke billowed from his battered suit. His face was grim.
"You know the biggest difference between you and , Tony?" Killian called after him, grinning like a maniac. "I'm practical."
He leapt into the air, chasing Stark like a predator.
Stark raised his arm to fire a repulsor blast—but Killian was too fast.
He was already there.
Grabbing Stark's arm, Killian twisted it so the palm cannon aid directly at Stark's own face—then forced it to fire.
The blast struck Stark's helt dead-on.
The aerial brawl intensified. Sparks and flas burst around them.
But gradually, Killian took control.
Stark's flight systems were failing—sabotaged earlier by Security forces. With his thrusters destroyed, Tony lost control and plumted toward the ground.
Killian followed, pinning Stark in the air and slamming him down hard.
His knee crushed into Tony's chest, pinning him like a predator pinning prey.
The searing heat lted through the armor. Tony's hair curled from the temperature. He felt himself being cooked alive.
A brutal punch rocked his head. His vision blurred.
The armor's joints began breaking apart. With a wrenching rip, Killian tore off Stark's helt.
Tony's face was exposed.
"Revenge tastes so sweet, doesn't it, Tony?" Killian said with a sinister grin.
The red glow from within his body surged again. His right hand transford—morphing into a sword of fire.
This was it.
The end of Iron Man.
But then—
ZAP!
A sudden blast of azure blue energy slamd into Killian's back, hurling him off Stark.
Tony's eyes widened in disbelief.
The old man who had stood silently by earlier—watching the entire fight unfold—now shed his disguise.
The cloak of camouflage shimred away, revealing a sleek, obsidian suit of armor underneath. The red V-shaped eyepieces on his helt flared to life.
Gene stood tall, voice cold and commanding.
"The deal's over," he said, stepping forward. "Now it's personal."
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