"All targets have ceased activity," a soldier reported over the communication channel.
The soldiers slowly entered the battlefield, which was filled with broken walls and ruins, with robot wreckage scattered everywhere.
wkan.com is so thoughtful.
The battle seemed to have entered its final stages.
"Stay alert, they might have a self-destruct function—damn, they're starting to flash red!"
"Armored units, prepare for impact!"
Boom!
The self-destruction of these small arc reactors lit up all of Manhattan; from a distance, it looked like fireworks.
But being in the middle of it wasn't nearly as pleasant.
The explosions caused most of the buildings in Stark Industrial Park to begin collapsing. Many people who couldn't escape in time could only watch as the glittering decorative structures toppled toward them—
Bang!
As the dust settled, those who thought they were dead found several sets of red power armor providing protection for them. Huge stones were held firmly in place, though the weight also pinned the armor down, making them unable to move.
These power armors created a safe zone within the ruins; no one was crushed or injured.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we need to maintain this position until rescue arrives. Please do not run or move around."
These red power armors were emblazoned with the Osborn Group logo.
"The battle is over. Clean up the combat zone," Frank received the command from Harry.
Similarly, Norman also received Harry's message, and the National Guard began advancing toward the wreckage area.
"Damn," the soldiers muttered under their breaths as they advanced and saw the carnage before them.
The situation on the scene was not optimistic, but fortunately, there was power armor for the rescue. There was no need to wait for heavy lifting equipment; the power armor could easily move the reinforced concrete blocks.
"Is anyone there? Please help us."
A poor man was pinned under the rubble, the pain nearly causing him to lose consciousness.
Thud, thud, thud.
The heavy footsteps of the power armor sent the man's adrenaline soaring, but he couldn't turn his head to see what was approaching.
"Don't move, I'll help you move this stone."
It was Curtis.
"I need to scan what's pinning you down to see how to move it without hurting you. Don't move, okay? It'll be over soon."
The medical power armor was equipped with sonar and infrared scanning functions, and could even perform X-rays. Soon, Curtis saw the situation beneath the ruins.
There was a little boy pinned beneath the man. The good news was that the stones pinning them both down were easy to move, and Curtis quickly formulated a rescue plan.
"Alright, I'm going to move the things off of you now."
"Don't move, your leg is bleeding and looks fractured. I need to perform medical first aid."
Curtis began searching for the appropriate medication on the power armor's interface—a suit of power armor really could carry a lot of things, especially when it wasn't responsible for combat.
"Ah... how is my son? Is he hurt?" the man asked, enduring the pain.
"He's fine, he's right here. Kid, say a few words to your dad."
The power armor's arm sprayed various medications—disinfectant, painkillers, and something to promote scabbing. Finally, the arm pulled out a roll of bandages and a splint to finish the immobilization.
"I'm fine, Dad. Is this Iron Man? He looks a bit different from the one on TV."
The man looked at his son, then at the Osborn logo on the power armor, and remained silent.
"I'm not Iron Man, just a retired combat medic currently working in security at Osborn," Curtis smiled; he was in a very good mood.
Although he could guess that Harry had them participate in the rescue largely for PR purposes, they were indeed saving people.
"Alright, I'm going to take you to the safe zone now. Kid, do you usually sit on your father's left or right shoulder?"
"Left shoulder!"
A blue power armor emblazoned with the Osborn Group logo returning from the war zone, carrying a seriously injured man in its arms and a little boy sitting on its left shoulder—this photo would appear on the headlines of major media outlets.
"This really isn't like what we used to do."
Curtis placed the man and his son in the casualty treatment area and then sighed over the communication channel.
"Yeah, fighting a war on U.S. soil, and against a bunch of steel soldiers at that. The World is truly crazy."
"I'm not talking about that, Frank."
"Regardless, what I said is also true, isn't it?"
All the steel soldiers had been defeated; all that remained was saving people and cleaning up the battlefield.
The medical power armor on Curtis showed its prowess, and he felt that tonight was the most fulfilling night he'd had in decades.
Frank suddenly said, "Curt, maybe we can call back all our old brothers."
Curtis said, "I'm not sure. You know them; many of them don't want to return to the battlefield anymore, and they're not suited for it."
"But what else can we do after leaving the battlefield? At least here at Osborn, the fighting has some meaning. The boss, Harry Osborn, has never lied to me, unlike that damn Orange Agent."
Orange Agent was Frank's former superior, William Rollins from the CIA.
After a moment of silence, Curtis replied, "Maybe, but why not observe for a while longer? Osborn is a big corporation after all, you know what I mean."
Frank didn't speak again. Curtis was right; while he was completely devoted to Harry, not everyone had his experience—his family had returned from the dead, after all.
Besides, he felt that this job wouldn't leave his son with nothing to be proud of except the people he had killed.
A squad of soldiers walked out of the exhibition hall, seemingly escorting someone.
"Governor, My Lord, you must listen to my explanation. I'm a victim too. Everything was caused by that terrorist Ivan—"
"Save whatever you have to say for the judicial authorities."
After Norman finished speaking, he waved to the media waiting outside.
Norman Osborn, the Governor of New York, personally leading the team to capture the culprit Justin Hammer—this would be tomorrow's headline.
"Harry, Justin Hammer has been captured. A red-haired woman named Natasha or Natalie wanted to take him away, but I refused."
"Very good, Father."
The incident had basically come to a successful conclusion.
Harry also used Lening to scan the structure of the Crimson Mech and confiscated the computer Ivan used. Although it was quite damaged, it was still very valuable.
By the time a group of Agents dressed in black arrived, only ruins remained.
"Director, the scene has been cleared. Ivan Vanko is dead. It looks like a weapon or armor short circuit or something—"
"Agent, you've got to be kidding me. He could create equipment in a run-down workshop that left Iron Man covered in scars and built those steel armies, and you're telling me his own equipment short-circuited?"
The communication channel fell silent. Of course, it was impossible, but that was all the scene revealed.
"Alright, pack it up. I probably know who did this."
Nick Fury hung up the phone helplessly.
Others might not know, but he did; the armor Obadiah used had also experienced a similar short-circuiting situation.
All circuits and memory were completely burned out, making it impossible even to attempt data recovery. If everyone in the World mastered this method of destroying evidence, the espionage business would be very difficult.
The only one who could do this was that green guy.
But that green guy was clearly at the expo today, unless he wasn't the only one using that equipment.
That would mean he probably doesn't want to be a superhero like 'Green Hero' or 'Skateboard Hero.'
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