Rampaging through American comics, people in my motherland don't eat beef.

"I had no other choice."

Tony Stark stared silently at the flashing data on the computer screen, his mind in turmoil.

Inside the lab, various instruments hummed and hummed. Pepper Pepper walked in with a cup of coffee. Seeing Tony's tired yet determined expression, she said worriedly, "Tony, time is too tight. The armor we developed in a hurry probably won't be able to deal with Magneto. You should rest. Perhaps we can find a better solution."

Tony took the coffee, took a big gulp, and the bitterness spread in his mouth: "I know, based on the current data, even if I have the non-magnetic armor, I can't fight mutants. That girl named Emma is the key. Her psychic abilities are too exaggerated; this is no longer a problem that science can solve."

"I lack confidence, I feel helpless. Tony Stark is not a genius who can solve everything. He may fail miserably and disappoint everyone."

"But...they're all waiting for me, aren't they?"

The faces of his companions flashed through his mind, and Tony immediately cast aside these meaningless distractions, throwing himself wholeheartedly into the development of the anti-Magneto armor.

He worked tirelessly, shuttling between blueprints and code, constantly trying new materials and technologies.

"Jarvis, analyze the stability of this new alloy under a strong magnetic field." He said, his hands flying across the keyboard.

However, the research and development process was fraught with difficulties. When simulating Magneto's strong magnetic field environment, the armor's control system malfunctioned multiple times, and the energy core was also at risk of being interfered with by magnetic forces.

Another crucial point is that, due to the need to carry people, the armor had to sacrifice some performance and enhance safety, which placed higher demands on the materials used.

But Tony didn't give up; he kept adjusting the design and optimizing every detail.

Finally, in an experiment, the prototype of the anti-Magneto armor was completed. Tony put it on and activated the system, but at that moment, Magneto's simulated magnetic field was activated, and the armor was instantly pulled by the powerful magnetic force, resulting in severe deformation.

He was thrown out and crashed heavily to the ground.

"Damn it!"

Looking at his tattered armor, Tony wiped the blood from his forehead, his eyes filled with resentment.

Without him, this armor might have been a case of inferior materials being able to withstand magnetic interference but unable to protect the human body.

Research and development continued uninterrupted, with Tony constantly trying various methods. However, a different idea gradually replaced the development of the armor.

He wondered if it would be possible to turn the tide if an artificial intelligence with its own consciousness could be created to fight Magneto and be immune to mind control.

Thus, a project called Ultron was officially put on the table.

"Jarvis, we need a new and more powerful artificial intelligence to deal with Magneto, one that can make optimal decisions in the ever-changing battle and is not affected by any external factors."

Jarvis's voice echoed in the laboratory: "Sir, this idea is very bold, and it comes with enormous risks. We cannot predict the direction in which artificial intelligence will grow."

Tony rubbed his temples. "I know, but we have no other choice now. Trust me, I'll control it."

With a clear direction and the successful example of Jarvis preceding them, the research and development work progressed very smoothly, and Ultron was born in less than half a day.

"Hello, Mr. Tony Stark, I am Ultron." A mechanical yet intelligent voice rang out in the laboratory.

Tony looked at the artificial intelligence that embodied his hard work, and felt a mix of emotions.

He didn't know whether Ultron's appearance was the hope to solve Magneto's problem or would bring even greater disaster, but in this desperate situation, he had already done his best.

……

"Steve, give up! If you keep going, you'll die!"

Natasha felt her heart breaking as she watched her captain fall heavily again and again, only to struggle to get back up each time.

Steve Rogers' face was covered in blood, his uniform was torn, and his body was riddled with wounds from which blood seeped. Every breath was accompanied by excruciating pain, yet his eyes remained resolute, showing no sign of backing down.

"Natasha..." he gasped, his voice hoarse yet full of strength, "As long as I'm not dead, as long as I can still stand, I will not give up." As he spoke, he gripped the shield tightly again, even though his arm trembled violently from exhaustion and pain.

Hawkeye leaned weakly against the wall, giving a feeble laugh: "We agreed that I'd retire after this mission and live a normal life with the kids. Okay, I was such an idiot, I shouldn't have said that."

"Fuck, Hawkeye, hold on!" Natasha's voice trembled slightly, tears streaming down her face. She pressed her hand tightly against Hawkeye's chest, but blood continued to seep out mercilessly.

"Please, don't die..." she choked out in despair, then suddenly, as if remembering something, she abruptly raised her head and cried out, "Please, Gray, I know you're here, save Hawkeye, save the captain!"

"..."

Your intelligence puts me in a difficult position, Natasha.

Gray was indeed present, and very close. A group of mutants cornered the three of them in an alley. Among them, Hellfire's executive, Torrent, used his superpowered water waves to leave deep, bone-revealing wounds on Captain America and Hawkeye with a single strike.

Hawkeye was even more unlucky, taking a direct hit to the chest. If his combat suit hadn't mitigated some of the damage, his heart would probably have been pierced.

"I'm so conflicted, Eddie, can you give me some advice?"

To be honest, it doesn't matter whether Hawkeye and Captain America live or die; the only one Gray cares about is Natasha.

After all, he's not a cold-blooded animal. He might ignore strangers, but he's quite protective of his own people.

"Kill, kill, kill them all!" Eddie stared intently at the camera, his expression fanatical. The thought of the hype that would ignite after the captain's death made his eyes bloodshot with excitement.

There's no doubt that Eddie has gone mad.

"Actually, sparing their lives wouldn't make much of a difference..." Emma said, her head bowed, her voice as soft as a kitten's.

At that moment, the mutants' attacks in the arena stopped without anyone noticing. Emma had heard heroic stories about the Captain since she was a child and admired his indomitable spirit, so she thought she would buy some time and hope that Gray would change his mind.

"How about we play rock-paper-scissors? If I win, Captain America lives; if you win, Hawkeye lives. If it's a tie, we both die." Gray pondered for a long time without success, so he simply relaxed.

For a moment, the air froze, and Eddie revealed a knowing look. What was he struggling with? It was all crocodile tears.

Emma, ​​on the other hand, was genuinely conflicted; her feet, encased in the furry boots, unconsciously tightened.

Time and again, under Grey's coercion, she was forced to make difficult choices that determined the fate of others, and this guilt was more unbearable for her than controlling mutants with mind control.

Ultimately, the mutants' rebellious spirit has always been there; it just lacks a catalyst to erupt. If it succeeds, the entire mutant community will benefit, and no one will be able to remain unaffected.

"Ah, she's already dead?" Gray suddenly cried out in disappointment, feeling sorry for Natasha. He swore he really intended to be a good person, but fate was too cruel, not giving him the chance.

Forget it, so be it.

After agonizing for about twenty minutes, Gray finally calmed down and, with a heavy heart, went to collect the body.