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XGO : V2 Chapter 13: A Study in Scarlet and Static
🕑 Added 2025-06-19 15:52:53 +0000 UTCThe chaos on the ground at the Stark Expo was a brutal, asymmetric war. Where Alex, in his Lodestar form, moved with methodical precision, the sky was a different story—a frantic, desperate ballet of survival.
Tony Stark, encased in the red and gold of the Mark VI, was a lone knight besieged by a swarm of mechanical dragons. The aerial Hammer Drones, though clumsy and lacking his suit’s agility, were relentless. They swarmed him, their numbers a suffocating advantage. He weaved through the steel-and-glass canyons of the Expo's biodomes, repulsor blasts lancing out to vaporize the closest pursuers. Each drone exploded in a satisfying, if temporary, fireball of cheap wiring and stolen ambition. But for every one he downed, three more would adjust their flight path, their miniguns spitting hails of lead that stitched fiery patterns across the glass ceilings, raining deadly shards down on the panicked crowds below.
Large explosions rocked the main pavilion as some of the larger aerial drones unleashed their payloads. A volley of small rockets, intended for anti-armor use, slammed into the base of the iconic Unisphere replica, chewing away at its supports, causing the massive metal globe to groan and tilt dangerously. The screams from below intensified.
Lodestar, having just unmade another terrestrial drone by magnetically crushing it into a dense, grapefruit-sized ball of scrap, looked up. He watched as Tony, executing a high-G turn, evaded one rocket only to be clipped by the shrapnel of another that detonated against a support beam. The red and gold armor tumbled through the air, stabilizers struggling to compensate before he righted himself.
J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice would be a calm, British presence in Tony’s ear, likely informing him of dwindling power reserves and multiple system warnings. He was outmatched and running on fumes.
Alex let out a sound that was part sigh, part growl. This was inefficient. He had dealt with the immediate ground threat to the civilians in his vicinity, and Stark was clearly losing. With a thought, his metallic form levitated, the magnetic field around him intensifying with a low hum. He shot upwards, not with the explosive force of a rocket, but with the silent, terrifying acceleration of a being that simply decided gravity no longer applied to it.
He ascended through the shattered glass ceilings into the open night air, a bizarre, horseshoe-headed phantom against the moon. The dogfight was a whirlwind of light and motion. Tony was flying backward now, firing repulsors to keep the lead drones at bay, a desperate, managed retreat.
And then Rhodey, in the hulking War Machine armor, entered the fray. But he wasn't helping. Vanko’s code had completely overridden his control. His suit’s targeting systems, slaved to the drone army, locked onto Tony. With a mechanical roar, War Machine slammed into Tony from the side like a freight train.
The impact sent both armored figures hurtling out of control. They crashed through the glass roof of the Japanese garden biodome, a contained world of serene rock gardens, tranquil koi ponds, and meticulously pruned bonsai trees. They hit the ground with enough force to shatter ancient stone lanterns and carve a deep trench through a raked-sand garden, coming to a stop with Rhodey’s heavier, bulkier War Machine armor pinning Tony's sleeker form beneath it.
"Tony, get out of here!" Rhodey’s panicked voice crackled over the open comms, the sound a stark contrast to his suit's aggressive actions. "I can't stop it! It's locking on!"
Tony, pinned and struggling, looked up to see the minigun on War Machine’s shoulder whirring to life, its multiple barrels beginning to spin as it charged, aiming point-blank at his faceplate.
"Come on, Rhodey, fight it!" Tony grunted, his own systems screaming warnings.
"I'm trying! But this thing… it’s a tank with a mind of its own! Get away!" The barrel glowed with a deadly orange light, the final stage before firing. Tony braced for the impact that would shred his helmet and the head within it.
Just as the first shot was about to be fired, the entire 20-ton War Machine armor was violently ripped off Tony as if it were a tin can. It flew backward through the air, tumbling end-over-end, before being slammed unceremoniously into the far wall of the biodome with a deafening crash of metal against reinforced concrete.
Tony blinked, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What the…?" He looked to the side. Floating silently where the suit had been was the bizarre, horseshoe-headed alien. When Tony’s eyes, aided by his suit's targeting display, locked onto the glowing blue Omnitrix symbol on its chest, his brain finally clicked. The kid. Alex.
"Stop gaping in the middle of a fight," Lodestar's voice, a strange, metallic monotone, echoed in Tony’s helmet. "They're charging up to shoot again."
Tony's head snapped up. A dozen aerial drones had followed them through the hole in the roof and were now hovering in a menacing circle, their weapons locking onto both him and Lodestar. With a renewed surge of adrenaline, Tony fired his repulsors, flying up to hover at Lodestar’s side.
"Alright, kid, you got my attention," Tony said, his own voice tight with stress. "Any brilliant ideas on how to stop this robot apocalypse? Because my suit's about to turn into a very expensive paperweight. I'm dangerously low on energy."
"Yes," Lodestar replied simply. "I'm going to tear them all apart." He raised one of his pincer-like claws, and the drones in front of them began to groan, their metal frames starting to buckle and twist under an invisible force.
"Whoa, whoa, wait! Stop!" Tony yelled, putting a gauntleted hand on Lodestar’s arm.
At the same time, the drones, momentarily recovering from whatever remote signal confusion had delayed them, opened fire. A hailstorm of bullets and energy blasts converged on their position.
Lodestar made an irritated sound, like static hissing. "Problem?" he asked, even as he raised his other hand. A shimmering, translucent green shield of pure magnetic force materialized around them, spherical and perfect. The bullets ricocheted off its surface with high-pitched pings, while energy blasts splashed harmlessly against it like water against rock. The shield was flawless, effortless.
"What the hell is your problem?" Lodestar demanded, his glowing green eye-slit fixed on Tony.
"My problem," Tony shot back, "is that if you 'tear them apart', my best friend is inside one of those tin cans you just threw against the wall! Can you dismantle them without shredding him in the process?"
Lodestar was silent for a moment, his head tilting as he maintained the shield with one hand. "I don't know," he finally said, his voice flat.
"What do you mean, you 'don't know'?!" Tony exclaimed, incredulous. "You're a living magnet! Just… just pull the guns off him or something!"
"It doesn't work like that," Lodestar explained with a hint of annoyance, as if explaining basic physics to a toddler. "This form's power is immense, but not precise. It's like trying to perform surgery with a sledgehammer. I can feel all the metal, all the connections. I could try to concentrate on just the external weapons systems, but the suit is a fully integrated combat chassis. Who knows what vital life-support systems are wired through the same conduits as that ridiculous minigun? If I tear at it the wrong way, I could accidentally rip his arm off. Or a leg, I guess."
Tony stared at him, horrified. "What? No! We are absolutely not doing that! That is not an option!"
"And what do you mean, 'we are not doing that'?" Lodestar retorted, his monotone voice somehow conveying deep irritation. "You want us to hold here like this until they run out of ammo, which, judging by the schematics, they won't, or until they get smart and start firing missiles at us? It's fine. Even if the guy loses an arm or a leg, I can fix it."
"Fix it? FIX IT?!" Tony’s voice was borderline hysterical.
"Yes. I have a form that can regenerate organic tissue. I'll just grow him a new one. It will be perfectly functional," Lodestar stated, as if this was the most reasonable solution in the world.
Tony's eyes, visible through his faceplate, were twitching. "Really, boy? Just because you can regenerate his injured parts, it's okay? He could go through unimaginable trauma! He's human! We have things like psychological damage, phantom limb pain! You can fix his body, maybe, but what about his mind?"
"Don't worry," Lodestar said with unnerving confidence. "I can fix that too. I don't even have to use any of the stronger aliens. I have a form that can access his mind, locate the traumatic memories of his arm being ripped off by a giant magnetic alien, and just… edit them. Erase them. Replace them with a memory of us heroically saving him completely intact. He'll never even know it happened. Problem solved."
A new voice, distorted and filled with static and pure, undiluted rage, suddenly blasted through their comms. It was Rhodey. His War Machine suit was still firing relentlessly, uselessly, against Lodestar's shield.
"You motherfuckers! I can hear all of this! You're seriously talking about ripping my arm off right in front of me?! How heartless can you two possibly be?! At least have the goddamn decency to stop yelling it so loud that I can hear you while these bullets are barging!"
Lodestar and Tony both froze, turning to look at the War Machine armor, which was still part of the robotic firing squad trying to kill them.
There was a long, awkward silence, punctuated only by the continuous, deafening ping-ping-ping of bullets impacting their impenetrable magnetic shield.
Comments
firerock laser
Damn poor Rhodes
