Tony's eyes narrowed beneath his faceplate: "Do I know you?"
Killian's smile froze for a moment.
It had been over a decade.
He had waited for over a decade, planned for over a decade, and transformed himself from an ordinary scientist into a genius with superpowers.
He had killed so many people and committed so many sins, all for this day—to stand before Tony Stark and let him know that he was not someone who could be easily ignored.
And Tony Stark, of all people, didn't recognize him?
Killian's smile became somewhat twisted: "You don't know me? 1999, Switzerland, Bern. New Year's Eve. You stood on the rooftop, and I said to you—'We will change the World together.'"
Tony was silent for a second.
Then he said: "1999? I was in Switzerland for less than two days and met hundreds of people. Do you think I would remember everyone?"
Killian's smile completely vanished.
His eyes turned cold, and a scorching aura began to radiate from his body. His skin changed from dark red to bright orange, and the temperature rose sharply.
The tiles beneath his feet began to crack and melt, turning into viscous lava.
"You will remember me," he said.
Before the words had even faded, he lunged at Tony.
His speed was extreme, leaving behind a red afterimage.
His fist, carrying a temperature of three thousand degrees, smashed toward Tony's faceplate.
Tony's reaction was also fast; he dodged to the side, and the repulsor in his palm lit up with blue light, blasting toward Killian's chest.
Bang—!
Killian was knocked back a few steps, but he just looked down at the scorch mark on his chest, then raised his head and laughed.
"Is that it?"
He pounced again.
This time, his speed was twice as fast.
Tony couldn't dodge in time and could only raise his arms to block.
Killian's fist smashed into his arm armor, emitting a harsh sound of tearing metal.
Tony looked down; his arm armor had been melted into a hole.
The three-thousand-degree temperature exceeded the design limit of the armor.
Tony retreated a few steps, his expression beneath the faceplate becoming grave.
He had encountered many enemies, but never one who could melt armor with their bare hands.
Killian looked at Tony's expression and laughed: "What? Is your suit not working?"
He spread his arms, and the temperature around him rose again.
"This is Extremis! It can evolve the human body to the next stage—super strength, super speed, super regeneration, and—"
He raised his hand, and a scorching ball of light condensed in his palm.
"—temperatures exceeding three thousand degrees!"
He abruptly pushed the ball of light toward Tony.
Tony took off, the thrusters on his feet spewing blue-white flames as he shot toward the ceiling.
The ball of light grazed beneath his feet, hitting the wall behind him and blasting a huge hole.
Tony hovered in mid-air, looking at the person below who was radiating red light.
His brain was working at high speed—the suit couldn't handle this level of heat, and going head-to-head would only result in melting.
He needed a new strategy.
Killian looked up at him and laughed.
"Fly? Where can you fly to?"
He waved his hand, and the fifteen Extremis soldiers moved at once.
They were like a pack of cheetahs, rushing in all directions of the Villa.
Some lunged at Tony, some rushed toward Thor, some toward Loki, and some toward Mavuika.
Thor raised mjolnir, lightning exploding around him: "Come on!"
He smashed his hammer toward the first Extremis soldier who rushed at him.
The soldier was smashed away, crashing through the wall, but before flying out, his fist also struck Thor's shoulder.
Thor looked down at his shoulder and frowned; the ATK of these people was stronger than he had imagined.
On the other side, Loki was also fighting.
He did not use magic to attack, but was using illusions to toy with those soldiers.
A soldier lunged at him, and with a wave of his hand, the soldier found three Lokis appearing in front of him.
He hesitated for a second, then lunged at the one in the middle—it was an illusion, and his fist passed through the air.
The real Loki appeared behind him and gently patted his shoulder: "I'm over here."
The soldier turned abruptly, throwing a punch at Loki's face.
Loki dodged to the side, a green magic blade forming in his hand, stabbing toward the soldier's chest.
The blade pierced in, the soldier's body stiffened for a moment, and then the wound healed rapidly, as if nothing had happened.
Loki frowned; the regenerative abilities of these people were stronger than he had imagined.
Mavuika set down his cup and stood up.
Golden-red flames ignited around him, the light warm and bright, like the rising Sun.
The temperature of the entire living room was rising, but that heat was not the scorching, destructive heat of the Extremis, but a gentle, inclusive heat.
The Extremis soldiers felt that power.
They stopped their movements and turned to look at Mavuika.
There was fear in their eyes, a feeling they had never had since injecting the Extremis.
Mavuika walked toward the nearest soldier.
The soldier subconsciously took a step back, then gritted his teeth and lunged forward.
His fist, carrying a temperature of three thousand degrees, smashed toward Mavuika's chest.
Mavuika raised his hand.
He caught the fist and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Snap.
The soldier's fist shattered in his hand, not melted by the high temperature, but crushed by pure, irresistible force.
The three-thousand-degree temperature scorched Mavuika's palm, but his hand showed no change; that temperature was truly just "warm" to him.
The soldier let out a scream and staggered back.
His palm was regenerating, but the speed was much slower than before.
Mavuika did not give him a chance to catch his breath; he raised his hand, and a golden-red flame struck the soldier's chest.
The soldier was like someone hit by a cannonball, flying out, crashing through two walls, and burying himself in the rubble.
This time, he did not stand up.
The other Extremis soldiers watched this scene, stunned.
They had injected the Extremis, they possessed super strength and regenerative abilities, and they thought they were immortal.
But now, they saw someone who could kill them in one blow.
Mavuika did not stop.
He walked toward the second soldier; the soldier turned to run, but had only taken one step when he was struck by a golden-red light.
He fell to the ground, convulsing, and the red light on his body slowly extinguished.
The third, the fourth, the fifth.
Mavuika's movements were simple: raise a hand, a burst of flame, and a person fell.
He did not use complicated moves or flashy magic, just the simplest, most direct crushing.
In less than a minute, all fifteen Extremis soldiers were lying on the ground.
Thor stood to the side, still holding his hammer, the expression on his face somewhat complicated.
"Big sister... couldn't you have left a few for me?"
Mavuika glanced at him: "Your hands are itching for opponents of this level?"
Thor rubbed his head embarrassedly: "It's not often in Midgard... on Earth, that I get to encounter opponents who are slightly interesting..."