The city below was a labyrinth of fire and smoke, but Tony Stark's focus was razor-sharp. Every sensor in his suit screamed threats — incoming drones, explosive traps, enemies emerging from the shadows like ghosts of a nightmare.
His boots touched down on a crumbling overpass, the concrete cracking beneath his weight. The suit's HUD flickered with dozens of incoming signals, but one stood out — a subtle, encrypted transmission cutting through the chaos.
Tony's jaw clenched. He knew that signal.
This isn't just an attack. It's a message.
A metallic voice echoed in his ear, cold and mocking: "Welcome back, Stark. We missed you."
Tony scanned the horizon, searching for the source, but all he found was darkness — and the feeling that eyes watched his every move.
His mind raced. Who could have the tech, the reach, and the cunning to orchestrate this?
Someone from inside. The thought stabbed sharper than any weapon.
The ruins shifted beneath his feet, and then, out of the shadows, a figure emerged — familiar, cloaked in darkness. The suit's scanners tried to identify the silhouette, but it was a ghost on the radar.
"Tony," the figure said, voice soft but venomous. "You never understood the cost of your so-called heroics."
"Cut the drama," Tony shot back, armor glowing with readiness. "Who sent you?"
A cold laugh. "You're looking in the wrong place."
Suddenly, the ground exploded. Tony was thrown backward, armor scraping against rubble. He rolled, recovering instantly, but the attack was just the beginning.
Behind the explosion, more enemies poured from the shadows — mechanized soldiers, armed with weapons unlike anything Tony had ever seen.
He ignited his repulsors, blasting a fiery path through the onslaught, each shot a battle cry.
But in the chaos, one question burned brighter than the flames:
How deep does the betrayal go?
As Tony fought through the tide of enemies, the chilling realization sank in — this war wasn't just for the city. It was for his very soul.
And somewhere in the shadows, the true enemy smiled.