Deep inside the cave, a team of Terrorists, having luckily bypassed Spider-Man, successfully infiltrated the cave where Tony and Ethan were being held.
As soon as they entered, the pungent smell of blood assailed them.
Their gaze was instantly drawn to the scene on the ground—two comrades lay stiffly in pools of blood, with charred skin ripped open and limbs twisted at unnatural angles, surrounded by the remnants of bombs.
One of them had a large hole blown open in his throat, his wide eyes still reflecting the terror of his last moments.
The leader's eyes were filled with shock and vigilance as he gestured for the few somewhat frightened Terrorists beside him to go check.
When someone was unwilling to step forward, he directly grabbed two subordinates by their collars and shoved them forward forcefully.
The deep part of the cave was now pitch black, with the only light source coming from the table in the very center.
An old laptop screen glowed faintly, its progress bar already at 100%.
Two Terrorists cautiously circled the table, each beginning to search the blind spots on either side.
Just then, the one walking in front suddenly felt a cold glint flash across his cheek, and before he could react, a metallic afterimage suddenly struck from the darkness.
With a dull thud, an iron-forged gauntlet solidly struck his abdomen, and the immense impact sent him flying backward in an arc.
In his panic, his finger on the trigger lost control, and the rifle in his hand sprayed wildly. Bullets flew across the cave, sparking against the rock walls.
His body slammed heavily against the opposite rock wall, his helmet cracking in a spiderweb pattern, then he slid limply to the ground, his gun still smoking.
The remaining Terrorists were terrified by this sudden attack, fumbling to turn their guns and unleash a furious barrage of bullets in the direction their comrade had flown from.
Gunshots exploded in the confined cave, deafening their eardrums. Half a magazine of bullets was expended in an instant, and the cave was filled with gunpowder smoke, the acrid smell choking them.
After the firing stopped, the entire cave fell into a deathly silence, so quiet it was unnerving.
They held their guns, their eyes scanning their surroundings in terror, cold sweat beading on everyone's back, unconsciously swallowing saliva.
The Terrorist in the front row's legs trembled slightly, unable to bear the suffocating tension any longer. With trembling lips, he turned back to discuss with his squad leader what to do, only to find a dazzling light illuminating the squad leader's pale face.
Before he could turn his head to see the source of the light, a metallic iron fist, accompanied by a whooshing sound, came hurtling towards him.
"Bang!" The iron man in metal armor swung his iron fist, striking directly on the head of a Terrorist next to him.
The man didn't even have time to scream before he was sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string in the direction of the force, slamming heavily into the rock wall and kicking up a large cloud of dust.
The iron man didn't pause, his movements, though not fast, were steadfast as he pursued the two Terrorists further back.
He raised his armored arm and slapped the chest of another Terrorist aiming a gun.
With a dull "crack," the man's ribs instantly shattered, and he flew sideways, his back slamming hard against the wall.
The remaining Terrorist leader's eyes widened, veins bulging on his forehead, his face etched with terror and unwillingness.
He roared, his rifle spitting fire, bullets raining down on the iron man in a frantic spray, the "Dadada" of gunfire echoing in the cave.
However, the bullets striking the iron man's metal armor only sparked, making crisp "ding ding" sounds, utterly unable to cause him any harm.
The iron man's steps were steady, like a beast poised to strike, advancing through the hail of bullets.
A flicker of despair crossed the leader's eyes, but he still gripped the trigger tightly.
Just as his bullets were about to run out, the iron man suddenly exerted force, raising his right arm high, a metallic afterimage cut through the air, and a clean right hook slammed heavily into his forehead.
The immense impact sent the leader falling stiffly to the ground, entering a good sleep.
Young people just have good physiques; they fall asleep instantly.
Along this path, the iron man could be said to have killed gods and Buddhas alike.
He charged through the narrow passages of the cave, and wherever he went, the Terrorists scattered like birds and beasts.
Bullets hitting his gleaming metal armor only sparked, making crisp "ding-ding-dang-dang" sounds, utterly unable to cause him any harm.
When a group of Terrorists tried to block him by bolting a heavy metal door, the iron man didn't hesitate for a moment.
He strode forward, his metal boots making the ground tremble slightly, and then his iron fist struck the door like a heavy hammer.
After the first punch, a dent appeared on the door's surface; with the second punch, the door panel began to twist and deform; by the third, the entire door collapsed with a crash, and several Terrorists hiding behind the door were directly crushed by the door panel, letting out painful wails, struggling but unable to get up.
After breaking through the door, the iron man's left arm accidentally got stuck in a crevice in the rock wall.
A daring Terrorist, seeing this, a fierce glint flashed in his eyes. He tiptoed forward, raised his pistol, and pulled the trigger, aiming at the iron man's cold, gleaming metal helmet.
"Bang!" A gunshot rang out, but the bullet did not penetrate the helmet as he wished; instead, it ricocheted directly back. The Terrorist didn't even have time to show an expression of terror before the ricocheted bullet accurately struck his head, and he fell stiffly to the ground.
This was also a young man with good sleep quality.
After the iron man eliminated the obstructing minions, he hurried along the winding passage, finally reaching a position near the cave entrance.
Under the sunlight coming from outside, he saw a person lying on the sandbag fortifications not far away, emitting a weak groan.
He looked over, and his pupils couldn't help but contract.
"Ethan!"
He took large strides to rush over, but then heard Ethan on the sandbags shout in a strained voice, "Watch out!"
A sharp whooshing sound followed almost immediately. The iron man, hearing Ethan's words, instinctively recoiled.
The next second, a smoking grenade grazed his shoulder armor and slammed heavily into the rock wall behind him.
"Boom!" The blast wave from the explosion, carrying gravel, rushed towards him, the flying rocks clanging against his armor, and choking gunpowder smoke instantly filled the entire space.
The iron man struggled to steady himself and looked in the direction the grenade had come from.
The Bald Camouflage Man who had threatened him was grinning menacingly, raising his rifle and aiming at him, the grenade launcher mounted under the rifle still emitting wisps of smoke.
Tony Stark was not one to suffer such a loss. He fiercely flipped open the armor on the inside of his arm, revealing a miniature missile the size of a firecracker.
Pulling the fuse at the missile's tail, sparks flew as the fuse ignited.
"Whoosh!" The missile shot out with a fiery trail, drawing an orange-red arc in the air.
However, perhaps the hasty evasion of the grenade just now affected his aim, as the missile grazed the Bald Camouflage Man's side and slammed heavily into the rock wall behind him.
But the problem was, this missile's power was much stronger than that puny grenade launcher; the missile's explosion directly caused the rock layer above the Bald Camouflage Man's head to collapse.
The Bald Camouflage Man's eyes widened in terror, and before he could escape, he was solidly crushed beneath the falling boulders, the rising dust obscuring his final figure.
Stark…" Ethan's voice, like withered leaves crumbled by the wind, drifted out from the sandbags, faint as a wisp of smoke.
His lips were as white as paper, and beneath his torn clothes, wounds like a hornet's nest continuously gushed blood, forming a dark red pool beneath him.
Stark lifted his mask to the top of his head, and seeing his friend's weak state, he still deluded himself, saying, "Hurry, we have to go. Move, come on, we agreed, according to the plan."
Ethan struggled to twitch his lips, but his smile was uglier than a cry.
Actually, he wasn't in pain, he just had no strength.
But at this moment, he thought it was a normal reaction before death, and still smiled, saying, "My plan was always this, Stark."
"You still have to see your family, get up!" Stark's voice rose, his body under the metal armor unconsciously leaning forward, as if to pull Ethan up.
"My family are all dead. I'm going to see them too, Stark."
Stark's movements suddenly froze, and images of Ethan repeatedly risking his life to save him flashed through his mind. He finally understood why the other party had disregarded his own life to save him.
What does a person who has lost all attachments have to fear?
"It's okay, I want it this way." Ethan tried to raise his hand, but his hand simply wouldn't obey.
Looking at his dying friend and benefactor, Tony's lips trembled slightly. He wanted to cry but held back, yet tears uncontrollably streamed from his eyes.
"Thank you for saving me."
And looking at the fully armored Tony, Ethan gave his final piece of advice.
"Don't waste… don't waste your life…"
In the corner, Gwen, in her XLR8 form, finally heard these words and pressed the remote control in her hand with her claws.
The wristband in Ethan's pocket operated at full speed. After the Doctor took two gasping breaths, his pupils began to dilate, and his breathing stopped.