Jarvis was silent for a second: "Very well, sir, executing now."
Tony turned to look at Happy: "Happy, leave immediately. Go back to New York and get a full checkup at the hospital."
Happy opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but seeing Tony's gaze, he swallowed his words.
"Yes, boss." He turned and walked toward the door. Reaching the entrance, he stopped and looked back at Tony.
"Boss... be careful."
Tony waved his hand: "Don't worry, I'm not alone."
Happy glanced at Mavuika and the other two, nodded, and pushed the door open to leave.
Only Tony, Mavuika, Thor, and Loki remained in the living room.
Tony sat down on the sofa, crossed his legs, picked up the remote from the coffee table, and turned on the TV.
The news channel was already broadcasting The Mandarin's terrorist declaration. The host's voice trembled slightly, and experts in the studio were discussing it heatedly.
Tony changed the channel; another channel was also broadcasting it. He changed it again, and it was still there.
Media across the United States and the entire World were broadcasting this video.
"This guy certainly knows how to build hype," Tony remarked with a curl of his lip.
Loki sat back on the sofa, picked up the cup of tea that had already gone cold, and took a sip: "Building hype is one thing; having real skill is another."
Thor paced back and forth in the living room, carrying mjolnir: "Do you think they'll come tonight?"
Loki glanced at him: "If that The Mandarin is truly as arrogant as he claims, he'll come. Because he can't let the whole World see him back down after such a provocation."
Thor nodded: "Makes sense."
Mavuika sat quietly on the sofa, looking out at the night through the window.
Time passed minute by minute.
The sky grew completely dark. The streetlights of the Villa district lit up, casting a dim yellow glow in the night. In the distance, the city of Miami was brightly lit, like a shimmering sea of stars.
Tony sat on the sofa with a glass of whiskey in his hand, but he didn't drink.
His gaze remained fixed outside the window, occasionally glancing down at the smartwatch on his wrist—the terminal connected to Jarvis, monitoring everything around the Villa in real-time.
"Sir, there is an anomaly," Jarvis's voice suddenly rang out.
Tony put down his glass: "Speak."
"Two helicopters are approaching the Villa district. Their flight altitude is very low, they haven't turned on their identification signals, and they are expected to arrive within three minutes."
Tony stood up and walked to the window. Thor walked to his side carrying his hammer, and Loki stood up from the sofa, straightening his collar.
Mavuika remained seated on the sofa, but her eyes were already looking out the window.
"How many?" Tony asked.
"Thermal imaging shows eight to ten people on each helicopter. Everyone's body temperature is abnormally high—averaging over forty degrees, with one person reaching nearly fifty degrees."
Tony's brow furrowed. Fifty degrees? That was a temperature humans couldn't endure.
Unless... they weren't ordinary people.
"The person who attacked Happy today also had a very high body temperature," Mavuika said.
"His body temperature peaked at nearly three thousand degrees. These people should have the same ability."
Three thousand degrees?!
Tony's pupils contracted slightly.
How much heat could his armor withstand? Three thousand degrees—that had already exceeded the armor's limits.
Tony took a deep breath and walked to the corner. A silver briefcase sat there, which he had brought from New York.
He opened the case and pressed the button inside.
A few seconds later, Tony Stark disappeared, replaced by a suit of red and gold Iron Man Armor.
The Faceplate dropped, and blue light lit up in the eye slots.
"Bring it on," he said.
The roar of helicopters grew closer.
Two black helicopters emerged from the night sky. Without lights on, they were like two giant black birds sweeping over the Villa district.
The gale kicked up by the rotors blew the trees in the courtyard askew, and the surface of the swimming pool rippled violently.
The helicopters hovered above the Villa, the doors opened, and a dozen dark figures descended from the sky.
The way they landed was peculiar—they didn't jump down; they smashed down.
Each person's landing smashed a shallow crater into the ground, sending concrete fragments flying.
They stood up and brushed the dust off themselves as if nothing had happened.
Tony watched these people through the armor's sensors, his brow furrowed.
An ordinary person's bones would have shattered jumping from that height.
But these people's physical strength far exceeded that of normal humans.
Fifteen in total.
Men and women alike, wearing uniform black combat suits. Their skin showed an abnormal dark red hue, and they radiated a scorching aura.
Their eyes glowed red in the night, like fifteen demons from hell.
Then, one more person jumped down from a helicopter.
His landing was heavier than the others, creating a crater half a meter deep beneath his feet.
He looked up at the Villa's floor-to-ceiling windows. On his face was a nearly pathological, fanatical smile.
Killian.
Aldrich Killian.
The AIM organization's founder and the creator of the Extremis virus.
The Mandarin was just a fictional image he created to generate terror, attract the World's attention, and cover his true purpose.
He was the real mastermind, the instigator of it all.
Over a decade ago, he was a scientist rejected by Tony Stark.
That night, he stood on the roof of Stark Tower in the biting cold wind, waiting the entire night for Tony to meet him.
Tony didn't come.
He waited on the roof until dawn, then left alone.
At that moment, he swore—one day, he would make Tony Stark pay!
Now, that day had finally arrived.
Killian walked to the Villa's door and raised his hand.
His hand turned bright red, like a piece of red-hot iron.
With a gentle push, the heavy solid wood door instantly carbonized and shattered under the high temperature, turning to ash.
He stepped into the Villa.
In the living room, Tony stood in the center, his red and gold armor gleaming with a cold metallic luster under the lights.
Thor stood to his left, mjolnir in hand, with faint sparks of electricity flickering on the hammerhead.
Loki stood to his right, arms crossed over his chest, a half-smile playing on his lips.
Mavuika sat on the sofa, not even standing up. She held a cup of tea, taking small sips, as if the ones entering weren't fifteen super soldiers but a group of lost tourists.
Killian's gaze moved from Tony to Thor, then to Loki, and finally landed on Mavuika.
He looked at Mavuika, his brow furrowing slightly. Then he smiled.
"Tony Stark," he spread his arms as if embracing an old friend, "long time no see."
"And these unfamiliar friends—are they the helpers you found?"