Gwen shrugged casually after hearing Dr. Paradox, a self-deprecating smile playing on her lips: "So, it seems I can't be a hero."
Dr. Paradox chuckled softly: "Is that so?"
Glancing at the tablet in his hand, Dr. Paradox raised an eyebrow: "It seems they've already started putting on the armor over there."
"Ah? Is that right?" Gwen leaned closer to the screen, her gaze sweeping over the real-time footage, confirming that Tony Stark's figure was indeed no longer visible. She nodded and said, "Then I'm off."
"Actually, there's no rush," Dr. Paradox leaned back in his seat, his tone nonchalant. "Even if he dies, I can bring him back to life, and that wouldn't disrupt the original plot, would it?"
"No, that won't do," Gwen said firmly. "Dr. Ethan is a good person and my reserved employee. I can't let him get hurt!"
After saying this, she took a bracelet from the car's drawer and put it in her pocket, then lightly tapped the dial on her wrist.
With a flash of purple light, XLR8 shot out directly.
Dr. Paradox, who remained in the car enjoying the air conditioning, watched Gwen disappear, shrugging helplessly, yet a smile of relief unconsciously appeared on his lips: "Not being able to be a hero... it doesn't seem to be that way after all."
...Inside the cave, the roar of the generator was mixed with the clanging of metal.
Under the dim light, Dr. Ethan looked a bit nervous at this moment.
He was operating the rusty crane, its motor making a loud noise.
Slowly, the heavy Mark 1 chest plate was lifted and moved towards Tony.
The lifting device slowly descended, and the chest plate successfully buckled onto Tony's body, connecting with the lower part.
"Is it okay? Can you move?" Ethan's voice held an undisguised tension, his eyes fixed on Tony, while he gestured for him to clench his fist.
Tony tried to move his fingers; the glove's movement was unimpeded.
After confirming the chest plate was correctly installed, Ethan squatted down and began to inspect the flamethrower on the right arm.
"Alright, say it again."
Tony took a deep breath, his gaze firm: "41 steps straight ahead, turn right 16 steps out the door, walk 33 steps, then turn right again."
This was their escape route. After successfully equipping Tony with the Mark One armor, Tony was responsible for leading the way, with the Doctor following closely behind.
Through this route to the outside, using the propulsion system on this armor, Tony could launch himself, this Iron Man, like a missile.
At this point, they only needed to hold Ethan in his arms for protection, and both could escape to safety.
This was their plan.
However, all the prerequisites for this plan were to successfully get this large iron lump, full of craftsmanship, moving before the enemy discovered them...
In the cave's monitoring room, the leading man, dressed in camouflage fatigues, slowly walked over, his eyes fixed on the surveillance screen.
"Where is Tony Stark?"
The subordinate standing by looked a bit timid and somewhat at a loss, saying in a slightly aggrieved tone: "He... he was just here!"
Before he finished speaking, the monitoring screen suddenly flickered with static, and the white glare made it impossible to open one's eyes.
The man in camouflage was startled and was about to say something when the flickering screen returned to normal.
The next second, Tony surprisingly pulled out a missile warhead from behind a rusty iron shelf, its metallic shell glinting coldly under the lights.
Ethan's eyes instantly widened, and he took the missile warhead from Tony's hand with a look of surprise and delight.
Seeing this scene, the man in camouflage fatigues slightly relaxed his previously tense shoulders.
"So he really was making a missile for me... Hmm?"
After observing for a while longer, the man was about to check other areas, but the scene on the surveillance screen froze his movements mid-air.
No.
In the footage, Ethan's hands trembled as he took the missile head, his expression exceptionally excited, so excited that his Adam's apple bobbed up and down, looking as if he could jump three feet high.
Yet, his movements were incredibly gentle, as if he was afraid of bumping or scratching the "treasure" in his arms.
The next second, he even lowered his head and lightly kissed the missile head's metal casing, then carefully cradled the missile head in his arms, rocking it back and forth like a newborn baby, his eyes full of tenderness, just like... just like a father looking at his newborn child.
The leader's jaw almost dropped to the floor, his eyes wide, staring intently at the surveillance screen, suspecting Ethan had gone insane.
He even felt a bit panicked, wondering if he might have been infected yesterday when he held the other person's head down.
Meanwhile, during his daze, the color of these monitors began to change.
The large, blue-glowing monitors had, at some unknown point, been stained with eerie black and green, with intricate circuit board-like patterns spreading across their surfaces.
Just then, a dazzling spark suddenly shot out from the monitor's seam.
The leader's peripheral vision caught the bright flash, and his pupils contracted sharply.
His mind went blank for half a second, then he reacted quickly like a startled bird, instinctively shouting.
"Get down!"
As he shouted, he threw himself to the side.
His assistant beside him hadn't had time to figure out the situation, his eyes full of confusion.
"Boom!" A deafening explosion rang out, and the monitors, like detonated bombs, spewed glass shards and metal debris like rain.
The man, relying on years of battlefield experience, successfully evaded the attack.
The one who had been standing beside him was not so lucky; his unprepared body was instantly covered in metal fragments and glass shards, collapsing straight to the ground without even a chance to scream.
Gasps and screams echoed in the monitoring room, blood splattered the walls, and the scene was a mess.
The man in camouflage slowly got up from the ground, his eyes cold as he looked at the fallen body beside him, his tightly pressed lips and clenched jaw making his expression particularly grim and severe.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of gunpowder and blood. He kicked away the monitor debris at his feet and turned to face his subordinates, who were stunned by the scene before them.
"What the hell are you all staring at!" His voice boomed like a bell, his intimidating roar echoing through the room. "Go see what Tony Stark is doing! Immediately! Now!"
He forcefully tugged at a subordinate's collar, pushing him out.
In reality, his own body was still trembling slightly.
The shapeshifter crouching in the corner saw this scene and felt somewhat helpless.
He hadn't expected the opponent to evade it.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of the camp, a row of boxes labeled "Stark Industries" sat in a small gazebo.
Inside one of the boxes, a masked You-Know-Who was curled up among the weapons.
When the sounds of hurried footsteps and gun-cocking came from outside, the eyes hidden behind the mask suddenly opened, and his clearly articulated fingers clenched into fists.
"Open box number three, get the Rocket launcher!" The leading Terrorist kicked a box, and the metallic clang was particularly harsh in the silent camp.
Two subordinates worked together to lift the lid, and a putrid smell wafted out—inside lay the body of a guard who had long since died, and even maggots could be seen crawling from his mouth.
This was, naturally, Gwen's handiwork.
"Damn it!" Everyone exclaimed, instinctively moving away from the box containing the body, and then... just then, the lock on the newly arrived weapons box opposite suddenly burst open, and a red and blue figure shot out like an arrow from a bow.
"Surprise time!"
After leaping out, this figure used the edge of the box for leverage, his body spinning like a whirlwind, completing a Thomas flair with fluid grace.
His movements were incredibly fast, and the strong wind he created even kicked up dust from the ground.
The Terrorists hadn't even clearly seen the newcomer's appearance before they were struck hard by this fierce attack.
Screams rose and fell, and in the blink of an eye, this squad of Terrorists was sprawled on the ground, disoriented and incapacitated.
Spider-Man, on his first long-distance assignment as a friendly neighborhood hero, shot a web at each of these individuals, and after confirming there were no other enemies around, he rushed towards the cave.