"Quicksilver, you sneaky bastard. You really went and did it, huh? Hope you can still laugh when I catch you."
Tracking the Brotherhood's encrypted signal through his visor, Ryuuto grinned coldly. He forwarded the coordinates straight to Professor Charles, already guessing who was behind the chaos. Even if Quicksilver slipped away again, the mutants backing him wouldn't. This time, he'd make sure their little rebellion screamed loud enough for the whole world to hear.
His pulse burned with adrenaline. Tony and Banner are still out there… they'd better hold on.
A crackle of lightning flashed under his feet—then Ryuuto vanished, a crimson blur cutting through the night.
Back at the battlefield, Mandarin fought Tony with an almost bored expression. He had already read Iron Man's every move. Then, with a low, sinister grin, he raised both hands—and ten glowing rings ignited with light. The air warped. The ground shook. The sky trembled.
"Tony!" Banner's roar thundered as he burst from the rubble, blood streaking down his jaw. "Now! Hit him hard!"
Before Mandarin could react, Hulk's massive arms locked around him from behind, holding tight despite the agony twisting through his face.
Tony didn't hesitate. "Don't move, big guy—I've got him lined up!"
He raised both palms, energy building to a lethal crescendo. The ground melted beneath his boots.
Mandarin sneered. "Still naïve."
He didn't even try to break free. The rings pulsed, a cosmic rhythm of blinding power. Ten beams flared like miniature suns, flooding the street in white light.
"Banner, MOVE!" Tony shouted—but too late.
Mandarin's laughter rose with the thunder. "In the face of true strength, everything else is meaningless!"
The sky split open. Two bolts of celestial lightning crashed down, devouring the block in a storm of blinding destruction.
When the dust cleared, the street was gone—just a wasteland of molten rock and smoking craters. Tony's armor sparked weakly. Hulk lay half-buried, groaning, blood dripping from his mouth.
From the distance, Quicksilver whistled. "Oh, man… if we hadn't been hiding, we'd be fried."
Gambit shuddered. "Remind me never to piss off that old freak."
Mandarin's voice echoed across the ruins. "Where is that brat Ryuuto? Must I really fetch him myself? Hmph. Maybe I'll just wipe this pathetic city off the map."
He stepped forward—then paused.
Shuriken streaked toward him like falling stars. Mandarin flicked his wrist. The air warped, scattering them harmlessly.
"Summoning Jutsu: Katsuyu! Heal them—now!"
A massive white slug materialized beside Tony and Banner, bathing them in restorative chakra.
Ryuuto landed between them and Mandarin, his red scarf fluttering through the dust.
"Damn, you two look like hell," he muttered. "That old fossil did this to you?"
Tony managed a pained chuckle. "Took your time… knew you'd show up, though."
Banner grinned weakly, every word strained. "Yeah… that's him, kid. Hit him once for me, will ya?"
Katsuyu's chakra light spread across their wounds. Color slowly returned to their faces.
Mandarin turned, his gaze locking onto Ryuuto. "So. You can summon creatures from another realm… that confirms it. You must be Ryuuto."
"Yeah, that's me." Ryuuto straightened, eyes burning. "Now tell me—whose filthy hand just hurt my friends?"
Mandarin laughed softly, shoulders shaking. "Guess. I'll tell you if you're right."
Ryuuto's grin was pure venom. "Fine. Then I'll just take both your hands to be safe."
He drew his blade in one smooth motion—the Executioner's Blade humming with chakra—and charged. The air split with a single, furious slash aimed straight at Mandarin's neck.
The blade struck—
—and stopped cold.
No blood. No wound. Not even a scratch.
Mandarin smiled, unfazed. "You'll have to do better than that, boy."
...
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