Above the Afghan Desert – Oscorp Dropship
The Afghan sun was merciless, baking the endless dunes below in shimmering waves of heat. The desert stretched far and wide, golden and silent—until the roar of an Oscorp aircraft tore through the sky.
The rear ramp was open, wind howling into the cabin. The four figures inside stood armored and ready, the metallic hum of tech mixing with the roar of engines.
Peter Parker cracked his neck and grinned.
"So, just to double-check—no parachutes? We're really going full superhero landing on this one?"
Ned Leeds, adjusting his gauntlet, glanced down nervously.
"I'm 90% sure I signed up for recon, not skydiving straight into hell without a chute."
Harry Osborn, standing still at the ramp's edge, didn't even flinch. His armor gleamed, polished but practical, designed with Oscorp's best tech.
"No backing out now. We land hard, hit fast, and get Stark out."
Peter turned to Nova, raising a brow.
"You really think Stark's down there?"
Nova nodded once. "He is."
Harry's voice was calm, precise.
"How do you know?"
Nova didn't answer. He just smiled. Quiet. Confident. That smile that said I know something you don't.
Peter groaned. "Man, you're definitely going through the Batman phase."
Harry ignored the light banter. He just stepped forward, looked down at the desert like it owed him something—and said,
"All for our future."
And then he jumped.
"Wait, seriously?!" Peter blinked. "He just—okay, screw it!"
He followed, laughing as he dove headfirst into the dry air.
Ned looked around in panic. "Y'all suck and I hate peer pressure!"
And then, with a yell, he jumped too.
Nova stood alone. The ramp howled behind him. His team was already falling. The sand below called like a promise.
He looked at the Omnitrix, turned the dial and set it to Wildcard Slot. Today will be the first day he will use this function.
Suddenly he jumped and slammed down the dial.
A blinding green flash burst mid-air. Nova's body shifted—armor replaced by thick orange fur and rippling muscle. Clawed hands, long tail, sharp fangs. His roar cracked the sky.
He was Rath.
"LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, DESERT TERRORIST PUNKS!" he bellowed as he plummeted.
The wind screamed around him, his massive arms outstretched, claws gleaming.
"I'M RATH! AND RATH'S ABOUT TO DROP A CLAW-FUELED BEATDOWN ON EVERYONE WHO LAID A FINGER ON TONY STARK!"
---
Mid-Sky – Above the Afghan Desert
Wind ripped past them as they plummeted—four black dots tearing through the sky like falling missiles. The desert below was fast approaching, but none of them flinched. Not even Ned, who was still yelling.
And then—green flash.
A burst of energy cracked behind them. Peter twisted in mid-air, eyes wide.
"What the hell?!"
Where Nova had been, there was now a massive, orange, fur-covered beast barreling through the sky with claws extended and a roar loud enough to rattle the clouds.
"LEMME TELL YOU SOMETHING, GRAVITY!"
Peter blinked. "That… that's not normal."
Ned gawked. "HE'S A FURRY MISSILE!"
Harry raised his eyebrows," Well this furry missle is ready to explode, so I don't think it's a good idea to come on his path. So as per plan, Nova or this so called Rath will deal with terrorist while using three will find and rescue Stark."
Peter slauted like a trained soldier," Yes captian!"
Rath zipped past them, his bulk slicing through the air like a meteor in freefall.
BOOM.
Rath hit first. The sand exploded outward in a sonic burst, shaking the dunes. Dust flew. A crater formed.
Then came Harry—slamming into the earth, rolling once before catching himself in a crouch. His armor hissed with pressure release, a few cracks spreading across the chest plate—but it held.
Peter landed next, body hitting the sand like a sledgehammer. He groaned, the wind knocked from his lungs, but his bones? Already stitching together.
Ned crashed last, less graceful, arms flailing. He bounced once.
"...Ow."
A pause. Then he sat up. "Nevermind. That was kind of awesome."
Peter stood, cracking his neck. "Armor held. Thanks, Oscorp. Also, I think I just healed a fractured femur in five seconds. Cool, cool."
Harry brushed sand off his shoulders. "Told you, it would be amazing way to test the regeneration."
They turned to the crater.
Rath was already marching out of it, claws twitching, muscles rippling, eyes burning with fury and excitement.
"ALRIGHT, WHERE'S TONY STARK? RATH'S GOT SOME RICH-GUY-SAVING TO DO!"
Peter squinted at him. "Do you think he's always like this, or is it the transformation talking?"
Ned raised a brow. "Both."
Harry simply smirked. "Let's move."
----
The sun blazed high above, casting long, searing rays over the Afghan desert. The once-still air was now thick with smoke and the acrid sting of burning metal.
Chaos reigned.
Buildings that had stood for years were reduced to rubble. Ammunition stores erupted like fireworks. The sharp bark of automatic rifles had long fallen silent, replaced by screams—some from pain, most from terror.
And at the heart of the storm… was Rath.
He tore through the Ten Rings compound like a tornado in a cage match. Metal bent under his fists. Doors didn't open—they flew.
"RATH DOESN'T KNOCK—RATH KICKS YOUR DOOR INTO NEXT WEEK!"
He crashed through a squad of guards like a wrecking ball with anger issues, grabbing one by the vest and slamming him into a Humvee so hard the windshield shattered.
A fleeing truck peeled out from a side gate.
Bad move.
"YOU CAN'T OUTRUN RATH—RATH'S CARDIO IS UNLIMITED!"
He chased it down on foot, leapt, and punched the hood mid-air, sending the vehicle flipping and exploding in a plume of flame.
Guards screamed in all languages—panic didn't need translation.
"He's a demon—!"
"Shoot him! SHOOT HIM!"
"RUN! Just RUN!"
From rooftops, some tried to line up shots. Rath heard them. He leapt, took out the entire platform in one crashing tackle, and hurled a sniper straight into a satellite dish.
Inside the surveillance room, fear was spreading faster than the flames.
The scar-faced Ten Rings leader stared at the wall of screens, jaw clenched.
Another man's voice cracked. "That's not a soldier… that's a beast!"
On-screen, Rath lifted a fuel truck, spun it, and launched it into the weapons cache.
"RATH'S NOT A FAN OF YOUR INTERIOR DESIGN—SO RATH RENOVATED IT WITH EXPLOSIONS!"
The camera went white.
The lieutenant beside the leader whispered, "He's not stopping…"
"No," the leader muttered, eyes wide, "He's not here for war… he's here for destruction."
In the final moments of the last feed, flames engulfed the west wing as Rath stormed toward another squad.
"RATH'S NOT ANGRY—RATH IS JUST PASSIONATE WITH HIS FISTS!"
---
Inside the Cell – Ten Rings Hideout
The steel door exploded inward, crashing to the ground with a violent bang. Light cut through the shadows, illuminating the battered interior of the cave.
Tony Stark blinked rapidly, shielding his eyes. His chest ached, the arc reactor still humming faintly in his chest. Beside him, Yinsen's hand tightened on his shoulder.
"Who the hell—" Tony began, then stopped as three figures emerged through the smoke—geared up, confident, and clearly not Ten Rings.
Peter stepped forward first, peeling off his helmet with a grin. "Okay, calling it now: that door definitely needed a better lock."
Harry trailed behind him, arms crossed, posture relaxed. "You'd think a billionaire would be held somewhere a little classier."
Tony squinted. "Who the hell are you? Mercenaries?"
Ned raised a hand. "Technically, we prefer 'extremely well-paid freelance heroes.'"
Yinsen kept his eyes on the trio, tension beginning to ease. "They're not with the Ten Rings. I think they're here to help."
"Yeah?" Tony growled, trying to stand on shaky legs. "Because last I checked, I didn't put out a Craigslist ad for rescue."
Harry stepped forward with a shrug. "You didn't. She did."
Tony frowned. "She?"
Peter leaned against the wall, arms folded. "Pepper Potts. Your assistant. She was worried you'd gotten yourself killed. Apparently, that happens often."
Tony's eyes widened, something snapping into place. "Pepper sent you?"
"Not exactly," Ned said. "But you can say that."
Tony let out a breathless laugh, a little bit of pride—and disbelief—in his tone. "Pepper... hired kids?"
"We're legally adults," Harry deadpanned.
"Barely," Tony muttered.
Harry leaned closer, smirking. "You can file a complaint with HR later. Assuming we survive this."
Tony looked them over again, eyes narrowing. "Still doesn't explain how three randoms in cosplay armor blew into a terrorist compound and knocked down my front door."
"Long story," Peter said. "Short version? We're stronger than we look."
"Lot stronger," Ned added with a grin.
Tony glanced at the destroyed doorway behind them, then at the arc reactor in his chest, then finally at the chaos outside echoing through the cave walls. "Alright, screw it. I'll take the miracle."
Yinsen gave him a small nod. "Let's move."
---
Just Outside the Cave – Ten Rings Compound
The group stepped out of the cave into the blinding desert sunlight. Smoke curled into the sky from burning vehicles and shattered bunkers. The ground trembled slightly—then a guttural roar echoed through the hills.
Rath came barreling into view like a living wrecking ball, leaping over a smoldering transport and slamming a hulking terrorist straight into the sand hard enough to shake the ground. He ripped a mounted gun clean off its turret and hurled it into another group of Ten Rings soldiers, sending them flying like bowling pins.
Tony staggered to a stop beside Peter, jaw slack.
"...what the hell is that?" he asked, eyes wide.
"That's Rath," Peter said cheerfully. "Our angry tank-cat."
Rath turned mid-sprint, eyes locking onto the group. Spotting Tony, his lips curled into a toothy grin.
"RATH DOESN'T LIKE BEING INTERRUPTED MID-WORKOUT! But Rath WILL forgive it this time... because Rath sees we're leaving with the VIP meatbag!"
Tony blinked. "I have... so many questions."
Harry clapped him on the back. "You're alive. Don't push your luck."
Tony muttered under his breath, "I'm being rescued by an angry space tiger and three teeangers. This is my life now."
Harry glanced over at the smoking ruins of the compound, nodding toward the ridge. "Alright, Stark's recovered. Let's bounce."
But as they turned to leave, Tony's gaze lingered—on the crates.
His expression hardened.
He walked up to one of the scorched shipping containers, brushing off sand to reveal the unmistakable Stark Industries logo burned into the side.
His voice was quiet, bitter. "Those are my weapons."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Kind of figured that out."
Tony turned to them, gaze sharp. "You guys got in here, and I'm guessing you can take out the rest. Can you destroy them?"
Peter and Ned exchanged a glance.
Harry took a slow breath, remembering Nova's earlier instructions.
He looked at Stark and smiled. "We agree. But you'll need to pay more than what Pepper promised."
Tony stared for a second—then casually waved a hand. "Fine. Double it. Triple it. Hell, throw in lifetime health coverage if you want."
Peter grinned. "Deal."
Ned raised a fist. "Oh, you should have checked the terms of the contract."
Harry smirked. "Nova's gonna say 'told you so.'"
From the far distance, Rath's voice echoed again over the desert.
"HEY! IS RATH SMASHING ALL THE BOXES, OR JUST THE ONES WITH LOGOS?!"
Tony looked exhausted already. "This day just keeps getting weirder."
Harry gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Welcome to the future, Stark."
XxxxX
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