Obadiah Stane was not a man of science, but he was a man of cold, hard results. When the Ten Rings gang—his former business partners—presented him with the wreckage of the Mark I, he didn't see a miracle of engineering; he saw a blueprint for a monopoly.
In the sub-levels of Stark Industries, a team of engineers worked around the clock on "Project Iron Monger." The suit was massive, twice the size of Tony's sleek armor, built with the subtle grace of a main battle tank.
"The chassis is done, sir," the lead scientist reported, wiping sweat from his brow. "But we've hit a wall. The energy requirements are... well, they're impossible. We can't build a battery small enough to power the hydraulic systems, let alone the weapons."
Obadiah stared at the hulking, grey metal beast. "Tony built it in a cave. With a box of scraps."
"Well, I'm sorry, sir," the scientist stammered. "But I'm not Tony Stark."
Obadiah's jaw tightened. "No. You're definitely not."
He didn't need a genius; he just needed a thief. And as luck would have it, Tony had already provided the solution. The new Arc Reactor humming in Tony's chest was the only power source on the planet that could breathe life into the Iron Monger.
At that same moment, Pepper Potts was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Having been sent by Tony to investigate the illegal arms shipments, she had bypassed the mainframe security. Her eyes widened as files scrolled past: invoices for Jericho missiles sent to the very terrorists who had kidnapped Tony. And the signature at the bottom wasn't Tony's—it was Obadiah's.
"Looking for something, Pepper?"
The voice made her blood run cold. Obadiah was standing in the doorway, swirling a glass of scotch.
Pepper's heart hammered against her ribs, but she didn't drop the newspaper she was holding over the encrypted USB drive. "Just... organizing some files, Obadiah. Tony wants the transition to be smooth."
She managed to keep her voice steady, hiding the drive in her palm as she folded the paper. "I should get going. Dinner plans."
Obadiah watched her walk toward the door, his eyes narrowing. "Wait. Is that the morning edition? I haven't finished the crossword."
"Oh, here," Pepper said, tossing the paper onto his desk with a practiced flick, her fingers tightly clenching the tiny metal drive. She didn't look back.
She sprinted to the lobby, where Agent Phil Coulson was waiting. "We need to go. Now. I have everything."
Back in the office, Obadiah glanced at the computer screen Pepper had just left. The 'Access Denied' red text was still flickering, but the history log showed exactly what she had seen. A dark shadow crossed his face. The time for subtlety was over.
Twenty minutes later, Tony Stark's seaside villa was quiet—until the glass shattered.
Tony didn't even have time to stand before the high-frequency sonic taser hit him. His muscles locked instantly. He fell to the floor, gasping as Obadiah stepped over him, looking down with a mixture of pity and contempt.
"You really should have stayed in that cave, Tony," Obadiah whispered, reaching down and twisting the glowing Arc Reactor out of Tony's chest. "You were always the dreamer. I'm the one who makes the dreams profitable."
He tucked the glowing blue device into a lead-lined case. "Don't worry about Pepper. I'll make sure she joins you soon. Consider this an early retirement."
Tony watched through blurred vision as his "Uncle" Obbie walked out, leaving him to die of cardiac arrest as his heart fragments began to migrate.
Across town, in a high-end hot pot restaurant, the atmosphere was much lighter.
Jack, now a rising star in the NYPD, was finishing a slice of wagyu beef. Opposite him sat Zhong Qiang and Reese Fisk. It was a bizarre trio: a cop, a martial arts enthusiast, and the heir to the Fisk criminal empire. Yet, over the last three months, they had bonded over a shared secret.
Underneath their trendy jackets, they were all wearing the high-tech "Tuxedo" armor Huang Wen had gifted them. They had spent their nights cleaning up the streets, calling themselves the "Suit Trio"—though Huang Wen would likely have groaned at the name.
Jack's watch chirped. It was a priority alert from his father, Mark Sherman.
"Son, we've got a situation at Stark Industries. Obadiah Stane is off the rails. National security risk level. Get there and see if you can stabilize the perimeter until the heavy hitters arrive."
Jack stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Check please. Duty calls."
Reese Fisk grinned, adjusting his cuffs. "Stark Industries? My dad always said Stane was a shark. Let's go see if he's got teeth."
Zhong Qiang cracked his knuckles. "I've been itching to test the impact dampeners on this suit. Let's roll."
By the time they reached the Stark facility, the gates had been torn off their hinges. Pepper and Coulson were pinned behind a black SUV as a ten-foot-tall mechanical nightmare stepped out of the shadows.
"STAY BACK!" Coulson shouted, emptying his handgun into the Iron Monger's chest plate. The bullets sparked and ricocheted off the heavy titanium-alloy armor like pebbles hitting a mountain.
Obadiah's voice boomed through the external speakers of the suit. "Agent, you're bringing a pea-shooter to a tank fight. Where's the girl?"
The Iron Monger's arm-mounted minigun began to spin.
"Get down!" Jack screamed, pulling up his squad car and jumping out.
BRRRRRRT!
A hail of lead shredded the squad car, but Jack, Reese, and Zhong Qiang had already leaped into the fray. To the shock of the SHIELD agents, the three young men weren't shredded by the fire. Their "Tuxedos" shimmered with a subtle energy field, the liquid-metal fibers hardening instantly upon impact.
"What the hell is that?" Coulson muttered, watching the three 'civilians' stand their ground.
"Police! Drop the... uh... giant robot suit!" Jack shouted, his voice amplified by his suit's comms. He pulled out his standard-issue Glock, knowing it wouldn't do much, but the Tuxedo provided him with the targeting computer needed to aim for the optics.
Obadiah turned the massive torso of the Iron Monger toward the newcomers. "The police? Are you kidding me? You think a fancy tailor made you bulletproof?"
He opened fire again, a continuous stream of 7.62mm rounds tracking toward Zhong Qiang.
Zhong Qiang didn't dodge. He crossed his arms, the Tuxedo glowing a faint blue. The bullets hit the suit and simply lost all kinetic energy, falling to the pavement in a pile of lead.
"Actually," Zhong Qiang shouted over the noise, "it was a martial arts teacher. And he's a lot scarier than you!"
Reese Fisk dived to the left, his suit enhancing his agility. He pulled out a high-tension cable launcher—a gadget he'd added to his suit—and fired it at the Iron Monger's legs. "Jack! Take out the sensors! Qiang, go for the joints!"
"You pests!" Obadiah roared, raising a massive mechanical fist. "I'm building the future, and you're just static on the radio!"
The Iron Monger lunged forward, the pavement cracking under its multi-ton weight. The battle for the soul of Stark Industries had begun, and for the first time, the "Suit Trio" was facing something that didn't just bleed—it crushed.
"Keep him busy!" Jack yelled, firing a precise shot that cracked the Iron Monger's external camera lens. "Tony should be here any second... if he's still alive!"
As the giant machine swung its arm, creating a shockwave that shattered nearby windows, the three friends realized one thing: the Tuxedo was amazing, but they were essentially fighting a building that walked. It was going to be a very long night.