Alien invasion? Luckily, I'm Superman.

Tony hovered in mid-air, arms crossed over his chest, looking down at the figure on the ground charging left and right through the barrage of fire from the mech army, a mocking smile on his lips.

Killian jumped from the helicopter, tumbling through the night sky, dodging wave after wave of bullets. The helicopter exploded into a fireball behind him, the orange flames illuminating his silhouette. Of course, the helicopter pilot was rescued by Jarvis in his mech.

In the distance, the mech army stood in neat formation, like an army awaiting inspection.

Mark XVI, Mark XVII, Mark XIX, Mark XX. Every suit of armor Tony had designed and built over the past six months, working tirelessly through the night, was now unfolding its hands under Jarvis's control.

The palm-mounted pulse cannons simultaneously lit up, their dense blue-white beams weaving into a net that rained down on Killian. Between the beams, small missiles, trailing white contrails, hurtled towards Killian from all directions.

Killian flipped and rolled across the ground, leaping sideways through the gap between the two pulse cannons. He landed awkwardly, rolling once before finally getting to his feet.

As he rolled to dissipate the force, Tony's old armor detached from him. In the night sky, another suit of armor swooped down. The Heartbreaker, Mark XVII, its large-caliber cluster cannon muzzle gleaming coldly in the moonlight. The back of the armor opened, and Tony leaned forward, sliding inside. The visor snapped shut, the latches engaging—the whole process taking less than half a second.

Killian had just stood up when he heard a whooshing sound overhead. A Mark XXIV tank was falling from the sky, its heavy fuselage crashing to the ground, sending concrete fragments flying everywhere.

Its shoulder-mounted machine gun turret rotated, aimed, and fired. Armor-piercing rounds poured out at a rate of six thousand rounds per minute, the spent casings falling like raindrops onto the surrounding ground, creating a clattering sound.

Killian raised his hand to shield his face as armor-piercing rounds struck his arms and torso. The bullets melted upon contact with his skin, the molten lead flowing down his body and pooling into a small puddle of silvery-white liquid on the ground. The tank strode forward with heavy steps, each swaying the ground as it charged toward Killian.

At the same time, the Mark XLI—its skeleton—slid silently down from the side. Its fuselage was much smaller than a tank, with sharp, clean lines.

Its movements were not as heavy as a tank's, but rather light, fast, and deadly. While the tank's fists drew Killian's attention, the skeleton had already circled around to his back.

Killian's hand sliced ​​through one of the tank's arms. The scorching palm carved a melting groove in the metal armor, and the tank's left arm broke off at the elbow, hydraulic oil gushing out and burning into a small blue flame in the air.

Just as Killian was about to deliver the final blow, a sharp pain shot through his back. The skeletal arm blade pierced through his back and emerged from his chest, blood beads clinging to its tip.

Killian winced in pain and lashed out with his elbow, slamming it heavily against the skeleton of the machine.

The skeleton was sent flying, tumbling halfway through the air before sliding several meters to the ground. However, its design dispersed the impact across the entire fuselage, preventing significant damage. The wound that had just appeared on Killian's back also healed instantly.

Tony, piloting the Heartbreaker, cut in from the side, firing his palm pulse cannon in rapid succession, hitting Killian's ribs and shoulders one after another.

Killian's body swayed violently under the impact of the pulse cannon, but he did not fall or retreat. His feet seemed nailed to the ground.

As Killian knocked away the skeleton and continued dismantling the tank, Tony's Heartbreaker suddenly accelerated and rushed in front of him. The ion accelerator on his wrist propelled his right fist, the knuckles scraping through the air before slamming into Killian's chin.

Killian was careless. He hadn't expected Tony's punch to be so powerful, nor had he anticipated that Tony's remote-controlled Jaeger would close the distance on its own. His head snapped back, he lost his balance, and he rolled to the ground before coming to a stop.

The tank and skeleton seized the opportunity and unleashed a furious barrage of attacks. The tank, relying on its hydraulic system, raised its remaining arm high, folded it into a hammer, and slammed it down on Killian's head—once, twice, three times.

The bone blade stabbed rapidly from the side, repeatedly piercing Killian's shoulder, elbow, and knee joints, each time drawing out a stream of black blood.

The mechs waiting in the air, under Jarvis's control, precisely fired pulse cannons during the gaps in the tank and skeleton attacks, each shot hitting Killian's vital points.

The mech, under Jarvis's control, also fired pulse cannons through the gaps.

Tony commanded Mark XXV—the Raider—to descend and use its massive mechanical claws to lock Killian's hands and legs in place. The hydraulic claws, with a force of up to a thousand tons, began to melt under Killian's furious struggles and rising body temperature.

Tony's gaze swept quickly across the projection screen on the mask. He saw Killian's real-time monitoring data. His body temperature was still rising, the muscle healing rate was accelerating, and the bone regeneration rate was also increasing.

"Damn it," Tony cursed, "how can they be so resilient?"

He strode forward, the Heartbreaker's steps heavy and rapid, each step leaving deep footprints in the ground. He tried to get close and kill Killian.

Killian was still struggling on the ground when Tony walked to within five meters of him.

Killian's body suddenly lit up. A blindingly hot light emanated from beneath his skin. His body temperature instantly surpassed five thousand degrees.

A shockwave erupted from the center of his body, spreading orange flames in a spherical pattern, simultaneously blasting the tank and the skeleton away. A large chunk of the tank's armor was ripped off by the shockwave, exposing the internal wiring, sparks flew, and it crashed heavily to the ground, never to rise again.

The skeletal fuselage was twisted into an irregular shape by the shockwave. The Raider's arms were completely destroyed in the shockwave, and fragments of the hydraulic claws scattered through the air.

But Jarvis didn't let the Raider be destroyed in vain. In the final moments before his arms melted, he activated the armor's self-destruct system, and the Raider's remains exploded in front of Killian. The shockwave and debris forced him back, giving him no chance to rush towards Tony.

Tony was forced back several steps by the shockwave, the Heartbreaker's heels carving two deep furrows in the ground. He steadied himself, looked up at Killian, and spoke with that infuriating ease.

"Is that all you've got? I have plenty more mechs." He spread his hands, palms up, then clenched them into fists. "But you can't really unleash your full power many times. You might as well surrender now; surrendering will give you a little more time to live."

His tone was full of sarcasm, every word carefully calculated. To undermine the opponent's confidence, to crush their will. He certainly still had many mechs left.

What he didn't tell Killian was that half of the Jaegers in the sky were support, rescue, or logistical units, while others were designed for special environments, such as the deep sea and space. Killian, however, was unaware of this. In Killian's eyes, Tony's Jaegers were endless.

Killian stood up from the ground, his clothes burned away by the intense heat, his skin covered with a dark red crust, like that formed after lava has dried. His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving violently.

"Heh, so what?" His voice was hoarse, but his tone was hard. "Kill you, and your mech army will be useless."

He knew it was self-deception. He knew that even if he killed Tony, Jarvis would still control those Jaegers, and the Avengers would still hunt him down. But that was the only way he could comfort himself. Kill Tony, and it would all be over. This was the last straw he clung to in his desperate situation. The Avengers still fighting the Extremis soldiers, and the army of Jaegers controlled by Jarvis, both filled him with despair. He could only force himself to ignore them, comforting himself that as long as he killed Iron Man, he would still have a chance to escape.

With the brain modified by the Extremis virus, these thoughts took only a moment in reality.

Killian adjusted his posture, bending his knees to assume the starting stance of a track and field athlete. He pushed off the ground with his feet, sending concrete fragments flying backward, and shot forward like a cannonball.

He was incredibly fast, so fast that the mechs in the air seemed unable to lock on. He dodged left and right through the barrage of bullets, pulse cannons whizzed past him, and missiles exploded behind him, but he never looked back. His gaze remained fixed on Tony, never wavering.

An opportunity! Tony's figure loomed larger before his eyes, and he saw the eyes beneath the Heartbreaker mask. He dodged another mech that swooped down to intercept him, then reached out and grabbed Tony's arms as they extended to fire pulse cannons.

His fingers dug into the gaps in the Heartbreaker's forearm armor. Killian's lips curled into a triumphant smile.

"Got you." His voice was like a pronouncement. "I won."

Tony was silent for a moment. His expression was obscured by the mask, but Killian could feel those eyes watching him.

"Is that so?" Tony's voice rang out leisurely. "But what if I did it on purpose?"

What? Killian's pupils contracted sharply. Alarm bells rang in his head, but his body couldn't react in time. His hands were still gripping Tony's arms.

The massive caliber magnified chest cluster cannon launcher on the Heartbreaker's chest lit up instantly.

The beam of light pierced through Killian's torso. A huge hole appeared from his chest to his back. Through that hole, one could see the night sky behind him, and, yes, his still-beating heart.

His heart pounded in his chest, each contraction spurting a jet of blood from the pierced wound, which dispersed into a mist in the air.

Killian collapsed. His back hit the ground first, then his head, with a dull thud. His eyes were still open, his pupils trembling slightly. The Extremis virus was indeed powerful. His internal organs were gone, his torso was pierced through, yet he was still alive.

Tony crouched down, the Heartbreaker's knees hissing from the hydraulic pressure. He looked down at Killian's face, contorted in pain, and spoke calmly.

"I won."

Killian opened his mouth, but neither refuted nor uttered a sound.

"Then, can you tell me who Hydra is backing you?"

It seemed Iron Man knew everything. Killian's eyes flickered, as if hesitating. In the end, Killian told Iron Man that AIM was backed by Baron Strucker, the leader of Hydra's remaining forces in Europe.

Tony nodded and stood up. He waved his hand towards the air, and a silver-white mech descended, its back opening. Tony directed the mech to install Kiri inside, and the life support system activated.

The mech stood up, nodded to Tony, and then took off, flying towards the prison for superpowered criminals. That prison was built by Tony in cooperation with the government, specifically to house superpowered criminals. Killian couldn't die yet; there were still many questions to ask.

In the distance, Su Mo and the Avengers finally appeared at the boundary between the night sky and the ground.