The Manhattan skyline glittered faintly through the haze of early evening as the Expo center's preparations reached their peak. Crane arms swung into place, scaffolding gleamed under floodlights, and technicians scurried between booths like ants with purpose. Outside, press vans were parked in neat rows, satellite dishes glinting in the twilight, all unaware that the real show wasn't the one advertised in the brochures.
Inside a restricted wing of Hammer Industries, Anton Vanko and his son moved like shadows, monitoring the final calibrations. The drones gleamed under the harsh white light — sleek white-and-blue units alongside darker, heavier models. Energy conduits pulsed faintly along forearms and torsos, internal nodes ticking like restrained hearts. The lighter units moved with elegant precision, while the heavier ones seemed to hum with contained violence.
"They're ready," Anton murmured, voice low, almost ceremonial.
Ivan adjusted a sensor module on a dark unit, rotating its arm slightly. "Our current problem is that we want to use it for our own goals. We do not have people who wouldn't just backstab."
Anton's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Well, we can try a little bit of automation. It's not like these things are made for Luthar."
Outside, Tony Stark strolled through the Expo hall with his usual swagger, a glass of bourbon in hand. He waved at press photographers, nodded at S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stationed discreetly near each entrance, and gave a patented smirk to an admiring intern. "It's all fluff," he muttered to himself, scanning the displays. "All smoke and mirrors."
Behind the scenes, Fury's voice was a quiet rumble in Tony's earpiece. "Keep your eyes open, Stark. You're not here to mingle. Watch Hammer. Watch every prototype. I don't care if it looks like a bunch of toys — those toys can kill."
Tony snorted. "Relax. Toys, yes. Kill? But only when stupid people use—"
Fury didn't answer.
At the far end of the hall, the first public demonstration was ready. A platform had been constructed for the lighter drones. Hammer himself beamed at the crowd, hands clasped behind his back, as if he were unveiling the future of global defense. The press cameras rolled, the executives whispered to each other, and the visitors applauded politely.
Anton watched from a hidden control station, thumbs dancing over a datapad. Ivan mirrored him silently, observing the hall and the platform, eyes tracing every exit, every guard. The drones themselves remained inert, almost statuesque, but beneath the polished armor, circuits and nodes whispered with readiness.
Hammer clapped his hands loudly. "Gentlemen! And ladies! I give you the future of personal defense!" He gestured toward the lighter drones. "Watch closely. These little marvels are faster than anything Stark has — and just as lethal."
The drones activated with fluid precision, their limbs moving in near-perfect synchronization. The crowd gasped as they darted forward, pivoted, and executed coordinated maneuvers that blurred the line between robotics and art. Energy weapons pulsed faintly, harmless for now, but perfectly aimed.
In the audience, Stark tilted his head, one brow raised. "Not bad… but still second-rate tech," he muttered. "I could build these in a weekend with a better HUD."
The heavier drones lumbered forward next, their micro-rockets and rotary cannons silent to the eye but thrumming beneath the plating. Each movement calculated, efficient, deadly in potential. The crowd watched in awe, not realizing that the true danger lay not in the display itself, but in the invisible command protocols embedded deep within the systems.
The public demonstration continued, a dance of lights, motion, and applause. Hammer beamed, oblivious to the silent threat humming in his own hangar. The Vankos smiled quietly to themselves, their satisfaction muted yet absolute.
While everyone else was lost in the spectacle, the small metallic forms clung to their shadows and airspace, recording, feeding, observing. The spider-sized drone shifted minutely, recalibrating as it tracked Anton and Ivan. The coin-sized disc drifted higher, invisible, its surface catching faint glints of reflection as it rotated imperceptibly.
As the drones returned to standby, Hammer clapped once again. "Impressive! Absolutely impressive!" He didn't notice the flicker of a power node in one dark drone, a subtle signal that it was ready, waiting. He didn't see the faint shimmer of the coin-drone above, adjusting its angle, tracking his every excited gesture.
Stark, meanwhile, took a casual sip of his drink. "Not bad, not bad," he said aloud, mostly to himself. "But let's see how they handle something real."
Anton and Ivan exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the coming game. The father and son had done their part — now the stage was set, the players positioned. All that remained was the inevitable move, the spark that would ignite the confrontation.
Tony lowered his glass, eyes narrowing as he scanned the hall from his vantage point. Every exit, every booth, every shadowed corner ran through his mind like a mental schematic. "Alright, Fury," he muttered into his earpiece. "Time to see who's playing what game."
"Be careful," Fury's voice reminded him. "If we fail, it's not going to be easy next time."
Tony smirked. "Noted. It's finally time to catch some Russians." He tapped a finger against the HUD of his suit, running background scans against Hammer's network, looking for anomalies, hidden nodes, or anything that might be whispering commands to the drones.
Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the hall, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents adjusted their earpieces and positioning. The team had mapped every known surveillance gap and double-checked for blind spots. "This is going to be terrible," one agent murmured. "Any misstep, and those drones could go from display to disaster."
Anton and Ivan, on the other side, remained blissfully unaware. The father and son fine-tuned last-minute calibrations on the drones' internal systems, running simulations of offensive maneuvers. Their confidence was quiet, measured, but Tony and the S.H.I.E.L.D. team knew they were playing with a force that could spiral out of control if left unchecked.
Tony tapped a button, bringing up a three-dimensional overlay of the hall, showing drone positions, security points, and blind zones. "Time to make sure Hammer doesn't get to play with fire," he said under his breath. "It's time to let the world know the consequences of copying my armor."
Above the hall, unnoticed, the small metallic scouts shifted their positions. Spider-sized and coin-sized drones both fed Luthar's encrypted network, unseen by anyone on the floor. Somewhere, the true puppet master smiled quietly, watching his investment move toward its inevitable encounter with Tony Stark and S.H.I.E.L.D.
Authors note: I was planning to end everything in a single chapter so we do not have to read the side story the problem with that is we would have no justification for iron Man attack told only after writing chapter 149 I thought about the reason so I remove some stuff than added new stuff to make it reasonable . that's remind me when this chapter was written I was even thinking about adding extra novel kiteretsu FanFiction unfortunate time have change where I am even having difficulty writing one chapter so can't add new FanFiction