Mark III

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a faint glow over the land.

On a cliffside by the sea in New York, there stood a grand white villa. The place was extravagantly furnished, complete with a swimming pool, garden, woods, and various sculptures and artworks.

A luxury car approached from a distance, stopping at the villa's entrance. Tony emerged, looking furious.

"I absolutely will not allow anyone to use my weapons to slaughter civilians."

Since being kidnapped by the terrorists in the Middle East, Tony had witnessed the horrors and bloodshed of war firsthand, along with the devastation modern weapons could cause.

The bodies, the wailing people, even the emaciated children had deeply scarred his conscience.

After escaping the clutches of the terrorists and returning to the United States, the first thing he did was shut down Stark Industries' weapons division.

He naively believed this would prevent his weapons from aiding in the slaughter of innocents in the Middle East.

But his conversation with Obadiah made him realize just how naive he had been. Even after shutting down the weapons division, Stark Industries had continued supplying arms to the dark forces.

This filled him with a mix of sorrow, anger, and guilt, especially for those who had died saving him. He couldn't even stay for Pepper's drink and hurried back home.

Once inside his villa, he headed straight to his basement lab.

"Jarvis, how is the Mark III coming along?"

Jarvis was his AI butler, named after the Stark family's longtime butler. After the old butler's death, Tony, for various reasons, never hired another one. Instead, he developed Jarvis to take over the duties.

Over the years, Jarvis had evolved beyond just a butler and had become an invaluable assistant in Tony's various projects.

"Sir, the components for the Mark III are ready."

"Good."

Hearing Jarvis's response, Tony picked up a modified mechanical arm and turned on the TV. Soon, a news segment appeared.

"Fifteen kilometers outside Gomira, this region is known as the 'Death Journey.' A new warlord faction has emerged, driving away the farmers and shepherds who have lived here for generations, forcing them into homelessness and despair. This new faction is known as the Ten Rings."

"The Ten Rings!"

The news stoked Tony's anger as he began tightening screws on the mechanical arm and checking its functionality.

The news continued.

"A child asked innocently, 'Where are my parents?' These refugees are in despair, hoping someone will save them."

Finishing his work on the Mark III arm, Tony looked at himself in the mirror and fired a repulsor blast from his palm. The mirror shattered with a loud bang. Satisfied with the repulsor's power, Tony began donning the full Mark III suit.

It was time to abandon his naivety and solve the problem like a man. The Ten Rings would pay.

With a roar, a red-and-gold figure shot out of the villa, disappearing into the clouds.

…...

Gomira, a region in the Middle East. Previously obscure, it was now infamous due to the emergence of the dark faction known as the Ten Rings.

The Ten Rings had committed numerous atrocities internationally, killing many. For various reasons, the US and Western powers had not intervened, allowing the Ten Rings to continue their massacres.

Hours later, Tony, clad in the Iron Man suit, arrived. Due to the time difference, it was midday there, with bright sunlight overhead.

Gunfire, explosions, screams, and cries for help echoed through Gomira as masked dark forces gunned down civilians. After subduing the villagers, they began rounding them up and loading them onto trucks, destination unknown.

A young boy, unwilling to be separated from his father, pushed past a militant and ran towards him. A militant, eyes gleaming with bloodlust, raised his rifle and pulled the trigger.

Just as the boy was about to be struck, a red-and-gold figure landed in front of him, blocking the bullets. The rounds clinked harmlessly off the armor.

Tony looked up, his eyes cold, and in the next second, he stepped forward and punched. With a single blow, he sent the enemy flying several meters. He turned and fired a repulsor blast, taking out another militant, followed by another blast to a third.

Seeing this, the surrounding militants grabbed their weapons and aimed them at the hostages.

"Drop your weapon!"

"What kind of monster are you?"

"If you don't want them to die, leave now!"

Though they spoke in the local language, Tony didn't understand, but their actions were clear. He lowered his palm, his expression dark.

The militants grew bolder, but they didn't continue to fire, knowing their bullets were ineffective. Taking advantage of their confusion, Tony activated the Mark III's targeting system, locking onto each militant.

In the next moment, mini-missile pods popped out of the suit's shoulders, launching eight tiny missiles that instantly took out the eight militants.

With all the militants dead, the villagers didn't cheer but looked on in fear at the robot before them.

A militant leader, hiding behind a wall, saw the robot's lethality and reached for his phone to call for reinforcements. Just then, a hand reached out from behind the wall, grabbing the leader and throwing him out.

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