The giant robot stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath its heavy steaming body. The rain seemed to melt before it could even touch the bot, the humanoid rolled its metallic shoulder in a pale imitation of humanity.
Minato's mind was racing, his sapphire eyes quickly shooting to the barely visible scratches peppering the bot's legs, he'd done practically zero damage. Its glowing red eyes fixed themselves on Minato, it almost, somehow seemed smug.
Minato held back a snort, he recognised that look, he'd seen that same look in dozens of shinobi.
Before he'd killed them.
His eyes darted around his surroundings, half melted cars surrounding him, not many civilians to be seen, the faint sound of sirens in the distance, barely audible over the constant hissing coming from the beast ahead of him.
Charka buzzed at his fingertips.
The smell of gasoline licked at his nose.
In one motion, his foot hooked beneath a half crushed car, kicking it directly up into the air. Before gravity could claim it, Minato spun and launched a second kick, slamming his heel into the vehicle and sending it crashing towards the bot like a meteor.
The bot barely flinched, raising its arm as the twisted wreck slammed against it with a metallic screech before tumbling away.
But its attention had shifted.
Minato was gone.
The bot turned, scanning the street with mechanical precision, its red eyes flicking across every surface, calculating.
And then it saw him.
Behind it.
Minato stood still—closer now, bathed in rain and shadow, his intense gaze fixed ahead like he was seeing something no one else could. One arm was raised, fingers carving sudden, deliberate arcs through the air.
Trailing behind his fingers was glowing black scripture burned into existence, elegant symbols suspended in the storm like ink in space.
The bot's eyes widened.
It could see the seal.
It didn't know what a seal was—but it was already analyzing, cross-referencing symbols, dispatching the data to satellites, labs, and servers across the globe.
Then Minato vanished.
A blur of motion—and he was behind the bot again, palm striking clean against its back with a sharp, echoing clap.
Scripture wrapped around its limbs like black chains, each character burning with chakra and binding it tighter with every passing second.
Minato vanished again.
The bot's eyes flickered wildly, processing the seal, analyzing thousands of variations per second—cross-referencing every known script, ancient and modern.
It found nothing.
Then the seal cracked—loud and sharp, echoing through the rain-soaked streets like a gunshot.
Minato stood still now, eyes gleaming with the certainty of a man who'd already won.
His hands blurred, flashing through a stream of seals. With a thunderous crack, the concrete beneath the bot split wide.
Stone groaned. The street trembled.
The bot dropped, dragged halfway into the earth as if the city itself had turned against it.
In Minato's right hand, a sphere of chakra spun to life—blue and violent, roaring like a star in its death throes.
Wind tore toward it from every direction, shrieking as it fed the growing storm of energy in his palm.
The bot looked up.
The cloak on Minato's back snapped wildly in the gale, his golden hair soaked and shining beneath the downpour.
But the man himself moved with absolute calm.
One step. Then another. Boots tapping softly against the cracked concrete.
He didn't rush. He didn't need to.
Then—
He vanished.
A thunderclap split the air.
The Rasengan suddenly carved through the bot's head, molten metal and sparks exploding into the rain. Steam hissed and sputtered as it slowly ceased pouring from its body.
The bot's massive frame slumped forward against the concrete encasing it, collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut.
Minato let out a calm, deep exhale, steam seeming to escape his mouth and his now empty palm slowly clenched into a fist.
He lifted his head.
All around him, police officers stood tense and alert, sirens blaring in the distance.
People with cameras pushed forward, their lenses flashing, while helicopters hovered overhead, casting harsh beams of light.
The city's eyes were all on him.
The faint roar of engines filled Minato's ears, growing louder, sharper.
His gaze snapped upward.
A streak of gold and red cut through the stormy sky, glowing brighter than the city lights below.
The crowd shifted, cameras pivoting instinctively toward the source.
Iron Man.
Hovering above, Iron Man's repulsors flared softly as he surveyed the scene below. With a gentle thud, he landed, sending ripples through the rain-slicked pavement. Reporters scrambled forward, only to be held back firmly by furious police officers.
"Surprised to see you alive," Stark said, genuine relief coloring his voice as he lifted his mask.
Minato's brows furrowed just slightly.
"Surprised?" he asked, voice calm but probing.
Stark nodded, his eyes flicking quickly to the half-buried bot. The metallic, slumped body still hummed with quiet intensity beneath the falling rain.
Minato thought back to Starks call.
"Assimilate me?" Minato asked, his attention locked onto the dark haired man. Stark seemed to grimace slightly at those words.
"I looked into that other bot, they were trying to…recreate your—" Stark waved his hands in Minato's direction"—energy." Minato's lips pressed firmly against each other, his mind racing.
It's not possible for someone to recreate chakra? It was life energy, it wasn't something that could be created by man.
"Then I found traces of code," Stark continued, his eyes flicking back to the metallic body. "That pointed to the creation of…" Stark nodded towards the metallic body. "It was built to absorb your energy, and more importantly…you."
Minato hummed, thoughtful, though his face betrayed nothing. His cloak snapped in the wind, rain glinting along its seams like falling sparks.
They were hunting him.
"Thanks for the call," Minato said, voice even, eyes sliding back to the broken machine. "How long until you can assess this one?"
Stark crouched beside the twitching husk, his suit humming as he scanned it.
"A week. Maybe less." He glanced up at Minato. "This just jumped to the top of my list."
Minato didn't respond immediately. The bot's shell was cooling, but its insides still buzzed—like something alive.
"Any idea who built it?" Minato asked, his eyes taking in the sheer scope of the bot. Stark's shoulders almost slumped, which seemed out of character for the man from the little Minato had seen.
"Nada, nothing." Stark snorted self-deprecatingly, as if that was some sort of great defeat.
A pinprick of worry pinched at him.
Minato hummed, this was only going to get worse.
—-
I'm back! Any ideas for the fic let me know! Thoughts on this chapter?