Tony transformed into Iron Man and shot straight toward the Special Forces headquarters building without stopping for even a second.
The building, located in a corner of downtown Washington, was already fully prepared.
The moment the military confirmed Tony's intent, Special Forces received an alert and immediately activated their defense systems, ready to face the approaching Iron Man.
Meanwhile, in the conference room of the Special Forces headquarters…
Captain America, Steve Rogers, and Bucky Barnes—formerly the Winter Soldier and now the modern-day White Wolf—sat at opposite ends of the long table.
The air between them was tense, silent.
They stared at each other.
Neither spoke.
A strange, unspoken understanding passed between them.
Finally, Rogers broke the silence.
He looked at his old friend with a helpless expression.
"Bucky… things have gone this far. Is there anything left for you to say?"
Bucky, sitting silently, had already shed his former appearance.
His long hair was gone.
The signature mask that once covered most of his face, leaving only his eyes visible, now lay on the table beside him.
His face—calm, yet weighed down by sorrow.
The once-exposed metal arm now wrapped in synthetic leather, almost indistinguishable from real skin.
Bucky had done everything to erase the image of the Winter Soldier.
Since joining the Special Forces, no one had ever questioned his identity as the White Wolf.
If the secret had remained buried, he might have served honorably until retirement.
But fate had other plans.
Anton—working behind the scenes—had leaked critical information to Tony and the military.
The buried past surfaced.
And Bucky, whose record was already stained, could no longer hide.
"I have nothing to say," Bucky finally responded after a long silence.
"There are reasons… but no excuses.
As you guessed, I killed the Howards."
There was no justification.
Just as Rogers had said, things had gone too far.
And neither of them could undo the past.
At that moment, the Special Forces' comms system buzzed to life in their ears.
"Enemy breach detected!"
"Iron Man has entered Washington airspace. Estimated arrival at headquarters: one minute."
"All weapons systems online. Awaiting orders to engage."
The voices snapped them out of their thoughts.
The two exchanged a glance.
Then, without a word, they stood and left the conference room.
Stepping out onto the open plaza in front of the building, they looked up—
And saw a brilliant meteor blazing across the night sky.
"Tony…" Rogers muttered, clenching his fists.
He was already in full uniform, shield in hand, heart heavy with conflict.
He didn't want his old friend Bucky to die at Tony's hands.
But he didn't want to fight Tony either.
And yet, what other choice did they have?
Rogers knew Tony too well.
Stubborn. Driven. Brilliant.
Just like his father, Howard Stark.
Howard had been Rogers' comrade in arms.
He understood the Starks.
But Tony's rage burned hotter—more personal.
And his achievements, his status, had even surpassed his father's.
Tony Stark wasn't someone who would be talked down.
Not today.
Not when the pain was this raw.
Tony would never accept Bucky's innocence.
And in truth, Bucky was the one who killed Howard Stark.
Even if he had been a mindless tool, the fact remained—he wasn't innocent.
Rumble!
Rumble!
In the sky, that glowing figure drew closer.
Inside the Special Forces headquarters, every soldier watched the incoming threat with tense focus.
None of them fully understood why Iron Man—once a trusted ally—was now considered an enemy.
But they were soldiers.
Their mission was to follow orders.
And General Hawke had given a clear one.
"Prepare to engage."
"Understood."
Duke and the others raised their weapons, aiming at Tony as he descended slowly from the sky.
Inside the Iron Man suit, Tony's scanners analyzed the soldiers' combat stance—but he didn't even flinch.
Jarvis and Ultron, both integrated into the armor's system, instantly assessed the threats and reported to Tony.
"Sir, you are currently locked by 118 firearms, twelve tracking missiles, and one incendiary device. Additionally, armored vehicles, battleships, and tanks from the underground base are on standby. Proceed with caution."
"I see it," Tony replied calmly, unconcerned.
His gaze locked on the two figures ahead of him.
There stood Captain America—Steve Rogers—standing tall, and beside him, Bucky Barnes, suited up and ready.
Tony's tone was cold.
"Captain. I guess you've made your choice."
There was a hint of regret in his voice, but it vanished when he turned his eyes to Bucky.
His tone darkened.
"Bucky. Any last words?"
Bucky didn't flinch. He spoke with quiet honesty.
"I don't want to die.
I killed your parents, yes—but I wasn't in control. Hydra turned me into a puppet.
I never wanted it to come to this."
"Does it matter?" Tony shot back.
"I'll deal with Hydra. But you're still the murderer. That doesn't change."
Both sides understood each other now.
There was no more need for words.
Whoosh!
Tony raised his palm. The repulsor charged, glowing with deadly energy, aimed directly at Bucky.
"Tony!"
Rogers clenched his fist, his voice filled with desperation.
"Don't do this. Don't be impulsive!"
BOOM!
Tony fired.
Rogers' words meant nothing now.
Tony had already played every possible scenario in his mind.
He knew what this battle meant.
He was prepared for the consequences.
Even if it meant a court martial—even if he was thrown in a military prison—he wouldn't stop.
With his wealth and influence, even prison wouldn't be the end of him.
As long as he survived, he'd get out.
So, Tony didn't hesitate.
He didn't hold back.
"Damn it!"
Rogers charged forward, throwing himself between Tony and Bucky, raising his shield to absorb the repulsor blast.
"Fire!"
General Hawke, watching from command, didn't hesitate either.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
The battlefield erupted.
Heavy-caliber bullets tore through the air toward Tony.
Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!
Sparks flew as they struck Iron Man's suit, ricocheting harmlessly off the reinforced armor.
But Hawke had never expected bullets to take Tony down.
They were a distraction—stalling tactics to slow him down, limit his movement.
BOOM!
From all sides of the building, tracking missiles ignited—leaving trails of fire across the sky.
They homed in on Tony's position.
And then—
Impact.
At this moment, Tony couldn't afford to ignore the threat.
He soared into the air, deploying decoy flares to intercept the incoming missiles.
At the same time, the armor on his shoulders shifted—revealing hidden Sidewinder missiles, compact and deadly, striking from above with minimal warning.
Whoosh!
The Sidewinder missile streaked through the sky.
Down below, Captain America and Bucky's faces tightened as they saw it descending.
A crucial moment.
From across the sky, a streak of color burst onto the scene like a flying banner.
It looked as if someone had draped the American flag across their body.
And in a way, they had.
Everyone recognized the figure immediately—War Machine.
Brigadier General James Rhodes.
A decorated military hero and a household name in the U.S. Armed Forces.
Just as the Sidewinder missile was about to detonate in front of Rogers and Bucky, Rhodey swooped in.
Controlling the War Machine suit with expert precision, he launched countermeasures identical to Tony's—decoy flares to intercept the incoming missile.
Boom!
RUMBLE!
A thunderous explosion shook the ground.
Flames lit up the sky, and thick black smoke billowed outward, blanketing the area.
But because the missile had been intercepted early, the blast radius wasn't strong enough to injure the two super-soldiers.
Under the tense gaze of the entire Special Forces unit, Steve Rogers and Bucky emerged from the smoke, unharmed—once again facing Tony, who was descending from the sky.
But Tony's attention had already shifted.
His eyes locked on War Machine.
"Rhodey. You came too."
His voice was calm—unsurprised.
He had expected this.
"Tony, stop this," Rhodey said firmly.
"There are better ways to punish Bucky. But this? This is the worst way."
"No."
Tony's voice was cold, resolute.
"The military is Bucky's shield. You know that better than anyone. That's why this is the only way."
Rhodey's heart sank. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk Tony down.
Just like earlier—Tony hadn't even let him finish the call.
He had already decided. He had planned for everything.
Then another voice rang out—booming across the battlefield.
From inside the command room of the headquarters, General Hawke stood before a wide window, gripping a microphone. His voice echoed through loudspeakers placed around the building.
"Tony Stark! You're alone. We have an army. You can't win."
"Stand down now and you won't be prosecuted."
"I understand your pain—your anger—but what you're doing now is too extreme. There are better, more rational paths to justice."
His voice was strong, steady—but it made Tony's fury feel like a tantrum.
Tony… sneered.
"Jarvis."
"Yes, sir."
In a matter of seconds, Jarvis and Ultron infiltrated the Special Forces network.
All broadcasting was shut down.
The internal comms went dead.
Total silence.
"Damn it!"
Hawke cursed, his face grim as he stared out the window at Tony and the others in the clearing.
Now, even he could feel it—Tony's unwavering resolve.
And though he was frustrated, a part of him understood.
How could anyone not want revenge for their parents?
Still, for all his sympathy, Hawke didn't agree with Tony's actions.
No matter how personal it was—Tony had invaded a military installation.
He had declared war on the government.
And now, just like Bucky, Tony would have to pay the price.
Meanwhile… in New York.
Anton sat casually at home, the glow of the television flickering across his face.
On the screen was live surveillance footage from inside the Special Forces headquarters.
He smiled faintly.
And watched the chaos unfold.
On the screen, Tony was seen confronting a group of Special Forces soldiers.
General Hawke stood on the rooftop tarmac, watching the scene unfold below.
With the broadcasting room destroyed by Tony's two AIs, he had no choice but to grab a cheap, Chinese-made loudspeaker and shout manually:
"Tony! If you still have any sense, surrender now! Just walk away and leave us out of this!"
Watching this, Anton couldn't help but double over laughing.
Hawke looked exactly like one of those self-righteous negotiators in the movies—thinking they could talk a storm down, only to make things worse.
And reality wasn't much different.
Tony didn't even bother responding. The only reason he destroyed the broadcasting room was to make Hawke shut up.
Unfortunately, Hawke's perseverance was also the reason he made it this far in the military.
Now, even without the broadcast system, he was making himself heard—with a loudspeaker Tony couldn't silence.
But he could still choose to ignore him.
"It seems the only way to resolve this... is by force," Hawke muttered, then gave the order.
"All units—full engagement! Take down Iron Man!"
Many of the soldiers had been waiting for that command.
Sure, Iron Man was powerful, but there were many of them.
And as the saying goes, even a pair of iron fists can't block a hundred hands—and here, there were a lot more than a hundred.
Plus, they had more than just numbers.
They had Bucky.
They had Sharon.
They had Rhodey—War Machine.
With enough firepower and teamwork, they believed taking down Tony Stark wasn't impossible.
"Should've done this from the start," someone muttered.
Back on the screen, Tony stood tall, unshaken—unafraid.
He tilted his head slightly, the glowing eyes of his helmet focusing on Bucky and Steve Rogers not far away.
The two of them tensed.
And then—
A thunderous roar shook the sky.
At the same time, Hawke received a panicked call from the intelligence department.
"General Hawke, urgent report! Fifty unidentified aerial objects have entered Washington's airspace—"
"Wait—scratch that. We've just captured images—they're armored suits. Iron Man suits."
"They're all Iron Men. Fifty of them. No—fifty-one including Stark himself! They're all heading for the Special Forces Headquarters."
"Repeat, their target is the Special Forces. All units prepare for heavy assault!"
As the words came through the radio, Hawke's expression twisted in shock.
The roar overhead confirmed it—he didn't need any more intel to know the truth.
Fifty Iron Men.
Fifty-one.
"Where was this warning earlier?!" he growled. "What's the intel department even doing?!"
He swallowed his anger, gritted his teeth, and raised the loudspeaker again.
"All personnel—be on alert! Iron Man has brought reinforcements!"
…
"Reinforcements?"
His voice echoed across the battlefield, just as a second explosion rocked the sky.
The soldiers below finally looked up.
They saw the night clouds above split apart—like they'd been sliced clean by invisible blades.
Moonlight poured down between the rift.
And suspended in the light—fifty armored figures, nearly identical to Tony's current suit.
Their eyes glowed.
They hovered in eerie, perfect formation.
Emotionless.
Inhuman.
Silent.
Watching.
Everyone froze, a chill running through them.
In that moment, they understood everything.
Why Tony had come to Washington alone.
Why he walked into the Special Forces Headquarters without hesitation.
Because Tony Stark didn't just build an armor.
He built an army.
A real Iron Man army, under his full control.
Each suit equipped with the most advanced weaponry and tech on the planet—designed not just to fight, but to dominate.
This… this was why Tony had no fear.
Because it wasn't Special Forces that held the upper hand.
It was Tony.
…
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