The city burned in pockets.
Sirens wailed from a dozen directions, their cries echoing off glass and steel. Smoke curled upward in dark spirals, blotting out the stars. Heat signatures flickered across Tony's HUD like warning lights that refused to turn off—too many, too bright, too unstable.
"Alright," Tony Stark said, his voice tightening just slightly, the way it did when things were about to get complicated. "We've got multiple Extremis signatures, unstable and spreading. This is gonna get loud before it gets quiet."
Eli hovered midair, wind pushing against him as he slowed above the chaos. From up here, the city looked like a circuit board slowly shorting out—pockets of light, bursts of flame, emergency vehicles tracing frantic paths through the grid.
"I see them," he said, eyes scanning. "Three close. One moving fast."
"Yeah, that one's about to ruin someone's day," Tony replied. "Preferably not ours."
There was a brief crackle in the comms.
Then—
A new voice.
Calm. Controlled. Familiar in a way that made Eli's stomach do something he refused to acknowledge.
"Status."
Eli froze for half a second.
Tony, on the other hand, lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.
"Oh great," Tony said, the grin audible even through the helmet. "Now the mission just got judged."
"Report, Stark," said Natasha Romanoff, ignoring him completely.
Tony sighed, the long-suffering sigh of a man who was constantly misunderstood. "Multiple Extremis hostiles. Me and Rapunzel here are handling it."
There was a pause.
A very small pause.
Then: "…Rapunzel?"
Eli closed his eyes.
No. No, no, no—
Tony grinned inside the helmet. Eli could feel it.
"Oh yeah," Tony continued, warming to his theme. "Tall, dramatic, great hair—honestly I'm surprised he hasn't tried to weaponize it yet. You know, swing from it, tie up bad guys, the whole fairy tale package."
"I hate you," Eli said flatly.
"That's fair," Tony replied.
Natasha didn't laugh.
But something shifted in her tone. Subtle. Curious. The kind of shift that meant she was filing this away for later use.
"…Explain," she said.
Eli immediately jumped in. "Don't. There's nothing to explain. He's making things up."
Tony ignored him completely. "So picture this," he began, clearly settling in for a story. "Mysterious enhanced individual, white hair flowing in slow motion—"
"I do not flow—"
"—drops out of the sky like he's in a movie trailer, saves people with minimal effort, disappears into the sunset. Or, you know, a warehouse. Same energy."
Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. Hovering. Midair. Pinching the bridge of his nose. This was his life now.
"And?" Natasha prompted.
"And he broods occasionally," Tony added. "Stares into the distance like he lost a kingdom."
"I don't brood."
"You absolutely brood. I've seen you do it. Twice. In one hour."
"I lost sleep," Eli shot back. "That's different."
"Same thing."
There was a quiet beat.
Then—
A small exhale over the comms.
Not quite a laugh.
But close.
Eli blinked.
Tony immediately caught it, because of course he did. "Oh wow," he said, voice rich with delight. "Did you just almost laugh?"
"I didn't," Natasha replied instantly.
"That was dangerously close to a human emotion."
"It wasn't."
"I'm marking the time," Tony continued. "This is a historic moment. Romanoff almost laughs at my impeccable comedy. Someone alert the archives."
"Focus on the mission, Stark."
"Yes, ma'am."
Below them, another explosion rippled through the street, orange flame billowing from a storefront. The moment snapped back into focus.
Eli's expression sharpened, the teasing falling away. "One's heading toward a civilian cluster. Apartment building, east side. He's moving fast."
"I've got it," Natasha replied immediately. "East side, rooftop access, moving now."
Tony tilted midair, a flicker of surprise in his voice. "Wait—you're already here? On site?"
"Did you think I wouldn't be?"
Tony paused. "…I was hoping for a dramatic entrance later. Maybe some theme music. A slow reveal."
"You're not the main character, Stark."
Tony looked straight ahead, wounded dignity radiating from his armored suit. "I strongly disagree. Survey says? I'm absolutely the main character."
Eli was already moving, launching forward with a burst of speed. But as he cut through the air, Tony's voice slipped into his ear one more time.
"Oh, and Eli?"
"…What."
"If you see her, try not to do that thing."
Eli frowned mid-flight. "What thing?"
"The 'I'm cool and composed but secretly trying to impress Natasha' thing. It's very obvious. Painfully obvious. I'm picking it up from here and I don't even have emotions."
Eli almost lost momentum. "I am NOT—"
"Oh, he definitely is," Natasha cut in smoothly.
Eli froze.
Midair.
Completely frozen.
"…You too?"
There was the faintest hint of amusement in her voice. Barely there. But unmistakable.
"Focus," she said.
Tony burst out laughing, the sound crackling through the comms. "Oh this is great. I don't even have to do anything anymore. They're doing the work for me."
"I'm muting you," Eli said.
"You can't mute me, I pay for the satellites. Literally. My name is on the checks."
The city rushed up to meet them.
Fire.
Chaos.
Extremis signatures burning bright against Tony's HUD.
Natasha's voice came one last time—calm, precise, all business.
"Eli."
He steadied instantly, the teasing fading into background noise. "Yes."
A beat.
Then, quieter. Just for him.
"Try not to get hurt."
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't soft. It wasn't anything anyone else would have noticed.
But it was real.
And Eli felt it settle somewhere in his chest.
"…You too," he replied.
Tony immediately ruined it.
"Awwww—"
"Tony."
"Yep. I'm done. I'm done. Professional mode activated. See? Look at me. Professional."
"Finally."
"Alright," Tony said, his voice sharpening into mission focus. "Let's go to work."
Below The first real clash began.