"This really is a great show."
Liam stood calmly on the platform, his posture relaxed as if he were watching a performance rather than standing at the center of it. His gaze drifted past the chaos, settling directly on Steve, Hawkeye, and the others as they arrived.
Meanwhile, Tony, who had been locked in confrontation, looked like he was about to explode. His face twisted with anger, and he jabbed a finger toward Steve, his voice sharp and heated.
"So that's it? You're helping an outsider and turning your backs on your own teammate?"
Steve didn't flinch.
"No," he replied firmly, his expression filled with that same unwavering righteousness. "It's because we're a team that we can't let you keep going down the wrong path."
He stood there like a symbol carved out of pure conviction, his presence almost theatrical. As he spoke, he even adjusted his stance slightly, angling himself so the cameras could capture him perfectly.
It looked less like a confrontation and more like a staged declaration.
Tony saw right through it.
Before Steve could finish holding that pose, Tony raised his arm without hesitation. A white palm cannon fired instantly, the blast cutting through the air and forcing Steve to drop the act.
"Are you out of your mind?!"
Steve brought his shield up just in time, the impact ringing out as he blocked the attack. The force pushed him back slightly, but he held his ground and shot Tony a furious look.
In his eyes, everything he was doing was justified.
He was protecting the team.
He was preventing Tony from making a mistake.
Why couldn't this arrogant playboy understand something so simple?
"I should be the one asking that!"
Tony's eyes were wide, his frustration boiling over completely. The anger he had been holding back finally surfaced, raw and unfiltered.
"Do you have any idea what he's saying about my family?!"
Stark Industries had always stood at the top, not just because of power, but because of reputation. They built their legacy on innovation, on protecting people, on shaping the world.
And now Ivan was trying to tear that down, piece by piece.
That alone was bad enough.
But what made it worse was this.
"You're not even on my side!"
Tony's voice rose, almost incredulous.
"Instead of backing me up, you're all teaming up to stop me?!"
If he backed down now, if he let them dictate what happened next, then what was left of Iron Man?
What was left of him?
"Swoosh!"
The sharp sound of an arrow slicing through the air cut straight through his thoughts.
Tony barely had time to react before he caught it mid-flight, his fingers closing around the shaft instinctively.
"Bang!"
The arrow detonated instantly.
Flames erupted, crackling energy bursting outward as the explosion sent Tony flying several meters back. His armor blackened from the blast, smoke curling off the surface as he skidded across the ground.
For a brief second, everything seemed to pause.
Tony pushed himself up slowly, his expression darkening further.
When had he ever been treated like this?
This wasn't just opposition.
This was betrayal.
A cold, heavy anger settled deep inside him, building like a volcano ready to erupt.
"You need to calm down."
Hawkeye lowered his bow slightly, his tone calm, almost reasonable.
He sounded like a friend.
Someone trying to help.
But to Tony, it felt like mockery.
What kind of friend stands against you when it matters most?
What kind of friend calls it "for your own good" while helping your enemy?
"Everyone's against me now?"
Tony's voice dropped, dangerous.
"Fine."
Behind him, multiple mechanical arms burst outward, twisting and flexing wildly as they came to life. The movement was chaotic, almost feral, matching the fury in his expression.
"Then don't blame me for what happens next."
He launched forward without warning.
Steve and Hawkeye barely had time to react as Tony closed the distance, his movements sharp and aggressive.
As for Natasha, she hadn't been directly targeted yet, but that didn't stop her from joining the fight.
Dagger in hand, she moved like a shadow, swift and precise.
Even in the middle of all this, she had taken the time to switch into a tight combat suit, one that accentuated every line of her body. Her presence alone carried a different kind of pressure, something subtle but intentional.
If brute force didn't work, there were other methods.
The Butcher would notice.
He had to.
With that thought in mind, Natasha advanced toward Tony, her movements controlled and deliberate, every step calculated.
But before she could get far—
Someone else moved first.
April.
The reporter who had been standing below the stage suddenly rushed up, seizing the opportunity without hesitation. She took a breath, then stepped directly toward Liam, her voice filled with excitement.
"Butcher, it's been a while! I've always admired you!"
Liam glanced at her, then nodded slightly.
"I know who you are."
The response was casual, familiar, as if this was just another normal conversation.
And just like that, the two of them began talking as if the chaos around them didn't exist.
Natasha stopped mid-step.
A strange feeling crept into her chest, something sharp and uncomfortable.
She didn't like it.
She was the one who came here first.
She was the one who had a plan.
So who was this reporter, suddenly stepping in and taking her place?
The irritation came fast, almost instinctive.
It felt like watching something that should belong to her being taken away.
"Clang!"
Her moment of distraction cost her.
Tony's kick came out of nowhere, slamming into her and sending her flying several meters away.
She hit the ground hard, rolling once before going still.
Then, almost immediately, she shifted into position.
Pretending.
Unconscious.
It was a classic tactic.
If Liam stepped in to help her, if he showed even a hint of concern, that would be her opening.
She waited.
One second.
Two.
Nothing.
"…What's going on?"
Confusion flickered across her mind.
Then—
Click. Click. Click.
The rapid sound of camera shutters filled the air.
Natasha's eyes snapped open slightly, just enough to see what was happening.
April.
That reporter was standing nearby, calmly directing the cameraman.
"Get that angle. Yeah, focus on her."
They were filming her.
Her fall.
Her "unconscious" state.
Her embarrassment.
Natasha's expression stiffened.
"This… really is a new generation taking over…"
The thought flashed through her mind, followed immediately by a surge of anger.
Back when Liam was still with S.H.I.E.L.D., things weren't like this.
They stood together.
Worked together.
Complemented each other.
Now?
He didn't even bother to look at her.
Didn't even help her up.
"Damn it…"
The curse stayed internal, sharp and bitter.
Not far away, Steve had already moved again.
He raised his shield high, then hurled it with full force.
"Bang!"
The impact rang out clearly.
Tony's mask shattered under the blow, fragments scattering as the force drove into his face.
Blood spilled instantly, running down from his nose.
"Damn it!"
Tony retaliated without hesitation.
His arm shot forward, driving a brutal strike straight into Steve's abdomen.
The force was enough to break ribs, the sound sharp and unmistakable.
Neither of them held back.
Each move was lethal, precise, and ruthless.
They fought like they knew exactly how to hurt each other.
Even as Tony pushed himself back to his feet, his expression didn't show even a trace of defeat.
If anything, his fighting spirit burned even brighter.
"Swoosh!"
Then—
The energy whip came down.
It wrapped tightly around his arm, locking him in place.
Tony reacted instantly, the mechanical limbs behind him lashing out wildly. They grabbed, tore, and pulled at the glowing weapon, trying to break it apart through sheer force.
"Crack."
The whip strained under the pressure, the sound of splitting metal echoing faintly.
It was close to breaking.
So close.
But when Tony looked up—
Ivan's expression didn't change.
No panic.
No tension.
Only calm.
Almost… relief.
As if this was exactly what he had been waiting for.
"Buzz—"
Ivan pressed the control.
The whip shifted instantly.
Blue-purple electricity surged outward, spreading across the battlefield like a net.
Tony's body locked up.
The current surged through him, spreading into the grotesque mechanical limbs on his back. They shriveled under the overload, twitching violently before going still.
His systems struggled.
His body followed.
Something was wrong.
"Am I really… losing?"
The thought hit him hard.
The symbiote had already been separated, and despite all the upgrades, the armor still had weaknesses. Heat. Sound. Electrical disruption.
And now, with his own teammates interfering…
There was nothing he could do.
He could only feel the strength draining away.
At that moment—
Steve stepped forward.
He raised his shield again, pointing it directly at Tony.
"Tony… surrender."
His voice was firm, filled with that same unshakable belief.
In his mind, this was justice.
This was the right thing to do.
This was what a hero was supposed to stand for.
Even Liam, watching from the side, couldn't help but clap lightly.
"Impressive."
.....
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