A blinding metallic gleam suddenly tore through the clouds overhead, dragging a long tail of light behind it. Wrapped in a cone of sonic-boom vapor, it plunged toward the ground at terrifying speed.
At the last instant before impact, Tony adjusted his suit and forced the descent to slow.
Even so, the remaining momentum still slammed into the ground hard enough to kick up a huge wave of dust.
The dust billowed outward in seconds. Coulson, standing closest, didn't even have time to dodge. He got choked so badly his eyes squeezed shut, and he started sneezing in rapid bursts that just wouldn't stop.
When he finally caught his breath, he rubbed his nose and couldn't help complaining, "Mr. Stark, next time you land, could you be a little gentler?"
Tony offered an apology with absolutely zero sincerity, drawling lazily, "Sorry, Coulson, but it's a necessary step. Key characters always show up at the last second—in the flashiest way possible."
As soon as he finished speaking, he flicked his fingers and slightly activated his current Magic No. 5 armor.
Brilliant streams of light flowed like living stardust across the polished plating, sketching out rune after intricate rune—complex, mysterious, and unmistakably arcane.
It had to be said: Tony really was a freak genius. Whether in technology or in his achievements with magic, he was far beyond normal people.
Harry was just silently thinking to himself, calculating whether he could find a chance to get Tony to "gift" him the newest model of magical combat suit…
When, out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed Wanda and Pietro beside him—both staring at Tony with a strange, intense look.
The emotions in that gaze surged like a breached flood: anger, hatred, pain—too many tangled feelings mixed together, practically ready to erupt.
Pietro's eyes went wide in an instant, rage he couldn't restrain filling them. His fists clenched without thinking, knuckles whitening from the force.
Wanda's emotional control was a little better by comparison, but her reaction was just as fierce. Her eyes turned icy, brimming with hatred, like her stare alone could freeze Tony solid.
And then her hands lifted unconsciously. In her palms, red chaos magic began to gather and churn, emitting a warped, dangerous glow—like she might attack Tony at any second.
These past few days, Harry had been focused on boosting Wanda's strength. He'd heard a little about her past, but he hadn't dug into it deeply.
Now, seeing this powder-keg standoff, confusion layered in his mind: did these siblings have some kind of blood feud with Tony?
Tony noticed the boiling crimson energy around Wanda too. JARVIS kept warning him in his ear, reporting a detected high-energy reaction.
Tony didn't dare relax for even a second. He adjusted his posture instantly, fully alert, eyes locked tightly on Wanda.
Yet even in a standoff this tense, Tony's flippant personality didn't change. He spoke with a hint of teasing.
"What's wrong, kid? I don't remember ever doing anything to you."
While he sounded casual, his hand was working in secret. Using the borrower system, he sent Harry a message:
"Hey, Harry, tell me what the hell is going on with this girl. She looks like she's about to kill me any second."
Harry was just as baffled. He genuinely didn't understand why Wanda and Pietro had such intense hostility toward Tony.
Under Tony's questioning look, Harry could only shrug helplessly, spread his hands, and signal with his eyes: I have no idea either. I seriously don't know what's happening.
Pietro's chest heaved violently, like Tony's words had lit gasoline in him. He pointed at Tony, his voice trembling with fury, almost screaming the accusation:
"You shameless weapons dealer! A complete war criminal who deserves to die!
"Do you know why? Because of your damn weapons, my home—Sokovia—has been turned into a dead, silent ruin!
"Those bombs, the nonstop explosions, didn't just destroy buildings—they destroyed our home, and they destroyed countless living people!
"My parents, our kind neighbors, and all those innocent civilians—what did they ever do wrong to deserve that?"
Pietro's eyes reddened, his emotions on the verge of collapse. His voice climbed higher and higher as he roared:
"I'll never forget it. Wanda and I were hiding under collapsed rubble, staring in terror at a dud that could explode at any moment, and on it were the words 'Stark Industries'! In that moment, death was right there in front of us! That kind of despair—you will never understand it!
"This world is a joke. You—your hands soaked in blood, you executioner, you absolute piece of trash—and you get to become some so-called superhero like it's nothing? Why? What right do you have?"
Everyone nearby watched the scene, ready to step in at any second, while Harry—listening to Pietro's furious condemnation—finally understood why the two of them hated Tony so much.
Stark Industries weapons had destroyed Wanda and Pietro's homeland. Even if Tony hadn't personally used them, tracing it back to the source, as the biggest shareholder of Stark Industries, he couldn't separate himself from it.
At that moment, Harry felt conflicted too. From Wanda and Pietro's standpoint, Tony's actions were unforgivable.
Those weapons brought shattered families, death, and nightmares that never faded no matter how many nights passed. Their pain and rage were real—raw and intense.
But from Tony's perspective, he also had his own helplessness.
He was obsessed with invention, focused on research and development—he couldn't necessarily control where every weapon ultimately ended up.
You could call him ignorant. You could call him naive. But you couldn't call him a bad person.
Even before he went through the series of events that changed him, he was just a loud, obnoxious playboy—not some monstrous villain.
Harry fell into a brief silence and decided not to interfere for now. This was a conflict between Tony and the Maximoff siblings. Maybe the best way was to let them deal with it themselves.
Tony probably wasn't Wanda's match—even if Wanda had only learned magic for a few days.
Under Harry's guidance, a significant portion of the chaos magic in her body had been developed, and even that was already enough to unleash terrifying power.
That was talent.
Still, Harry watched closely. If Tony was in real danger of dying, Harry would step in and save him.
Letting Wanda and Pietro beat Tony up a little, letting them vent the anger they'd bottled up for years, could be one way to resolve the conflict—but Tony didn't deserve to die.
And this world still needed Tony's power.
Under everyone's gaze, Tony didn't speak. Pain filled his eyes.
In Afghanistan, at the edge of life and death, he'd realized his weapons were being used to hurt innocents.
He finally understood: he'd been chasing profit and breakthroughs, ignoring the harm his weapons caused—and that realization plunged him into crushing guilt.
That was why, after escaping, he'd shut down weapons development even at the cost of Stark's market value crashing, and then became a superhero—using his own strength to protect the world, to make up for the wrongs he'd caused.
He wanted to atone.
Right now, Tony knew there was no running from it.
Tony Stark—someone proud to the bone—how could he possibly deny the mistakes he'd made?
So when the victims confronted him, the arrogant Iron Man finally lowered his head.
He bowed deeply and apologized.
"I'm sorry. I… I'm deeply sorry for everything I caused. I can't undo it, but I need you to know—I will never forget this responsibility."
Pietro never would've imagined that Tony Stark—usually proud, arrogant, acting like he was above everyone—would bow in front of him and apologize like this.
He froze, at a loss. "This…"
But Wanda, who looked delicate on the outside, didn't believe Tony so easily.
This girl who seemed fragile was stronger inside than she appeared. She wanted to judge for herself whether Tony truly regretted it.
In an instant, a dazzling crimson spiritual light formed in Wanda's palm. It expanded and enveloped Tony's head, dragging him into an illusion.
Everyone stood around, not knowing what Wanda saw. Only a few minutes later, a single tear slid slowly from the corner of Wanda's eye.
Then, like all her strength had been drained, she cut off the spell. She turned and threw herself into Harry's arms, trembling, crying nonstop.
Tony, waking back up, wore a complicated expression too—face full of grief. He looked deeply at Pietro and Wanda, then said nothing, turned away, and walked slowly to the side.
…
After the heroes had assembled, in a dim room inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. building, the atmosphere felt heavy and oppressive.
Pierce's expression was serious and grim. He slowly took out his phone and dialed a mysterious number.
When the call connected, Pierce lowered his voice, urgency threaded through it as he tried to persuade the other side.
"They've already moved. They'll reach Sokovia soon. You can still leave now if you hurry!"
From the other end came a low, calm voice. Every syllable carried a distinct German accent, each word like it came from an ice cellar.
"Pierce, you're old. The drive and decisiveness you had back then are long gone. You shrink back the moment something happens.
"The Sokovia branch is stronger than you can imagine. If they dare come here, I'm fully confident I can remove these problems for you.
"Just them? They're absolutely not our opponents. In this world, technology is the number one productive force. In the face of absolute power, we've already got the win locked up—guaranteed."
As soon as he finished, the man seemed to sense something. Excitement slipped into his tone.
"Mm. Looks like they're already here. Come on, my darlings—come out. Give these so-called superheroes a proper welcome!"
"Wait!" Pierce panicked, his words firing out in a rapid warning. "You can deal with the others however you want, but there's one person you need to be extremely careful with. The Sorcerer Supreme is completely different from ordinary superheroes—"
Knock, knock, knock…
Before Pierce could finish, the call dropped into a dead tone. The other side had already hung up.
Pierce's hand trembled. He slammed his fist onto the desk, sending the papers on it flying in every direction.
Damn it. They got the message ages ago, but the Sokovia branch refused to retreat. Ever since they obtained that scientist they call "Big Boss," they've gotten more and more arrogant.
Pierce could only hope—pray—that the Sokovia branch really did have the strength they claimed.
Because if things spiraled out of control, the consequences would be unimaginable.
At the same time, Harry opened a portal.
On the other side was the interior of HYDRA's Sokovia branch.
The battle was about to begin—one spark away from detonation.
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