"Haah… finally, a good day off."
Tony Stark collapsed onto the sleek couch in his high-tech, J.A.R.V.I.S.-secured garage. The day had been exhausting—tracking down terrorists, attending briefings, and running errands for the government.
Even after saving New York and diverting a nuclear missile into the Chitauri mothership, being a superhero hadn't exactly made his life easier. If anything, it had only buried him in more work.
Too much work. Too little time.
The mutant situation, for example, was spiraling. And then there was Trask Industries—run by some lunatic who seemed determined to wipe mutants off the face of the Earth—constantly begging for his help.
Some tasks he chose. Others he didn't. And a few, he was outright forced into by S.H.I.E.L.D.—and now, their new sister agency, S.W.O.R.D.
"It's genuinely nice to see you a little less busy for once, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. remarked.
"Don't jinx it, Jarvis," Tony groaned. "If I knew I'd get this popular—and this overloaded—I wouldn't have announced I was Iron Man in the first place."
"It was indeed an unwise strategic decision, sir."
Tony let out a long sigh. "Thanks for rubbing it in." He stared at the ceiling for a moment, then asked, "Where's Pepper?"
"Miss Potts is currently undergoing the Extremis extraction treatment. Estimated time until completion—Warning. Warning."
The calm voice of J.A.R.V.I.S. was suddenly drowned out by shrill alarms. Red lights blinked throughout the garage.
"Ah, not again… Why?!" Tony shouted in frustration.
This was his life now—constant emergencies, sleepless nights, and endless calls for help. Gone were the carefree days of sleeping in, bar-hopping, and waking up next to three or four supermodels.
Now? Saving the world. Building defense systems. Acting like a damn detective—something he never signed up for.
"Sir… I believe you'll want to see this."
A hard-light holographic projector in the center of the garage activated. Laser scaffolds flared to life as a full-scale 3D projection formed—blue-tinted and massive. It would've left any kid breathless.
But Tony Stark wasn't a kid.
And the moment he saw what the hologram depicted, his expression turned to stone.
A colossal being—easily the size of Stark Tower—was emerging from the ocean and making landfall. Its first step shattered the Golden Gate Bridge like it was glass.
"What the hell… is that?"
The creature moved with unnatural speed for its size. Alien, grotesque, powerful—it didn't resemble anything human, or anything from Earth at all.
"There is no record of this creature in our archives, sir. All indicators point to an extraterrestrial origin."
"You've got to be kidding me," Tony muttered. "Where the hell was our satellite detection? This looks like a full-scale invasion!"
"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied, "This being did not descend from orbit. It emerged from the ocean. Deep sea scans are inconclusive. I am still searching for its origin."
"You're saying it came from the bottom of the damn ocean?"
"That is correct, sir. There are no prior data traces."
Tony stared at the projection, jaw tight.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is requesting Avengers deployment," J.A.R.V.I.S. added calmly.
Tony let out a long exhale. "Fine. Prep the Mark 56."
"Already in progress, sir."
A metallic case whooshed from the far corner of the garage, flying toward him like a missile. Tony didn't flinch. The case unfolded mid-air and wrapped around him, plating and mechanisms locking into place.
By the time he reached the garage's edge, he was fully suited up.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., set coordinates and tag the target."
"Target locked. Destination ready."
Tony stepped onto the launch pad of the building, now fully armored.
"Alright then…" he muttered. "Let's go."
With a mental command, the thrusters flared. Propulsion ignited beneath his feet, and without ceremony or delay, Iron Man shot into the sky.
High above the clouds, aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. aerial Helicarrier, jets and one Quinjet launched into the sky, engines roaring as they raced toward their destination.
Another monstrosity. Another footnote in Earth's new era of chaos.
It hadn't even been a full year since the Chitauri invasion, and now this. The world was changing too fast for anyone to keep up.
"What the hell is going on with Earth?"—that was the question on everyone's mind.
Inside the Quinjet, Natasha Romanoff sat in the pilot's seat, already mid-flight. Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, and Clint Barton were seated in the back, preparing for a long three-hour journey to San Francisco.
Steve tapped into the comms.
"Tony, are you airborne yet?"
"Yo, Cap! Did you see that thing? It's huge!" Tony's voice crackled through the comms, as charismatic as ever.
"Language, Stark."
Tony chuckled. "C'mon, don't tell me you're not impressed. It's the size of a goddamn skyscraper."
Steve's voice stayed calm. "Yeah. It's huge. But we're being deployed mainly for rescue. You and Bruce will handle the heavy lifting."
"Oho? So we'll be seeing the Green Guy in action again?" Tony teased. "Always a pleasure, Doctor Banner."
Bruce gave an awkward chuckle.
"Yeah, well... I'm not exactly excited. I'd rather keep Hulk in his cage today."
He sighed quietly, glancing at his trembling hands. Sometimes he wondered why he ever tampered with gamma radiation in the first place. Now, he wasn't just a scientist—he was a ticking time bomb.
Tony, hearing the tension in Bruce's voice, let out a soft chuckle—not mocking, but a shared recognition of the weight they all carried.
Different burdens, same battlefield.
"Tony, how long till you reach the target?" Clint asked, calmly checking his specialized arrows, slotting them into the custom positions in his high-tech quiver. Years of experience had made him precise, quiet, and ready—always ready. He didn't need to think twice about the mission. Unlike Tony, he didn't complain. He just did the job.
"One hour, give or take."
"It'll take us three," Natasha added, tapping the nav bar that projected their estimated arrival.
Tony responded quickly.
"Alright. I'll run a few diagnostics—and maybe throw some test missiles to see how tough this thing really is."
Before anyone could reply, the comm line clicked off.
"He didn't even wait for my full instructions," Steve muttered with a sigh.
Natasha and Clint exchanged glances and laughed quietly.
Bruce just offered a sheepish smile, leaning back and mentally bracing himself—for Hulk, for battle, and for whatever monstrous nightmare awaited them on the West Coast.
For Tony, the hour passed like a breeze—as did the air rushing past him while he soared across the sky.
Flying like this had once been a childhood dream—zooming through the clouds, defying gravity with nothing but sheer genius and cutting-edge tech.
But now?
Now it just felt like another chore. Another entry on an ever-growing list of responsibilities.
"How far from the target, J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"Thirteen kilometers and four hundred fifty-six meters, sir."
Tony nodded inside the helmet, the HUD marking distance and targeting data as he adjusted his course.
"Alright, let's see if we can pick up a little spee—"
"ROOOOOAAARRRR!!!"
The roar hit him like a shockwave. A deep, bone-rattling bellow that tore through the sky and brought him to an abrupt halt midair.
"W-What the hell was that?!"
His eyes widened behind the visor, pupils dilating as adrenaline surged through him. That roar hadn't just been loud—it had vibrated his core, like it was trying to rip his arc reactor out of his chest.
No exaggeration. No sarcasm. Just pure, primal terror.
"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. responded calmly, "That was the roar of the titanic creature."
Tony exhaled slowly.
"Cool. Cool cool cool. Could you maybe tell Fury that my stomach's acting up? I think I'm coming down with a bad case of nope, and I might need the rest of the day off."
He started to turn away—half joke, half genuine—but J.A.R.V.I.S. cut in.
"Director Fury has issued standing orders. You are to intercept and distract the creature, sir. Evacuation is still in progress. The goal is to redirect the target back into the ocean."
Tony froze. Mid-air. Half-turned.
Then he sighed. Long, tired, and theatrical.
"Why is it always me?"
With a resigned groan, he spun back around, ignited the thrusters, and launched forward at full speed—toward the beast whose roar could tear the sky in half.
The target was already locked.
Time to dance with something bigger than Stark Tower.
***
Throw some comments and power stones if you like this story. It will cheer me up to continue for more.