When Tony Stark, clad in his newly upgraded Mark 6 Iron Man suit, finally arrived at the Hammer Expo, he was greeted by a scene that left him utterly stunned.
The stage had become a graveyard of twisted metal. Dozens of Hammer's steel soldiers lay scattered in pieces—arms torn off, legs broken, some split clean in half. Every single one of them had been utterly destroyed, rendered into lifeless junk. The only unit that remained somewhat intact was the War Machine, but even it was powerless—its gun arm had been severed by vicious claw marks, the remaining weaponry aimed harmlessly at the sky. Perhaps that was why Ivan Vanko, lurking in the shadows, had given up controlling it.
Across from the wreckage, the crowd of thousands stood miraculously unharmed. Gathered together in tight clusters, they stared silently in one direction, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and disbelief.
"Hello? What the hell happened here?" Tony muttered, taken aback.
He had only been gone a few minutes. How had so much carnage unfolded in such a short span of time?
Then he saw him—Wolverine.
Logan lay sprawled across the ground, soaked in blood, half of his body practically blown apart. Storm and Cyclops stood beside him, their faces pale with anxiety. And nearby, Jean Grey, who had lost control mere moments ago, was now kneeling beside Logan, tears streaming down her cheeks as she tried desperately to help.
"Doctor! Is there a doctor here?!" her anguished voice rang out over the crowd.
The cry echoed unanswered.
The Hammer Expo was an exclusive event, attended by dignitaries, military officials, corporate moguls, and high-society elites. There were no emergency personnel on standby. And even if a doctor was present, who would dare step forward now?
Logan's condition was horrifying. Chunks of flesh missing, blood pouring out in waves—he looked like he had one foot in the grave. His regeneration ability should've kicked in, but something had gone wrong.
"Iron Man is here!"
A voice from the crowd broke the silence. Others quickly joined in:
"Mr. Stark, please help him! Maybe there's still time—he's a Mutant, isn't he? His body might be able to recover!"
"Take him to the hospital—fast! With your suit, you can get there in minutes!"
"He saved a kid! He used his body to block a missile—he has to live!"
The people remembered. They had seen Logan throw himself in front of a child, taking the brunt of an explosive blast to shield the boy. Without the X-Men, many of them wouldn't be alive right now. Their usual skepticism or prejudice toward Mutants was replaced, at least for the moment, by gratitude.
But not everyone was on the same page.
"Why bother? He's a Mutant. What hospital is going to treat that?" a voice said with a sneer.
The man didn't even get to finish before he was silenced by a chorus of glares.
Then a voice rose—firm and furious.
"I'm a member of the State Assembly!" shouted the boy's father, stepping forward. "If any hospital refuses him care today, I will PERSONALLY propose that its license be revoked!"
His son, who should've died, was alive only because of Logan's sacrifice. That kind of debt couldn't be ignored.
He turned to Tony with pleading eyes. "Please, Mr. Stark—take him to the hospital. I'm begging you."
Tony didn't hesitate.
"Okay." He nodded immediately. Whatever he had planned to do could wait. Logan needed help now.
But before he could act, a familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the air.
"They can't leave!"
It was Justin Hammer.
Somehow, the man had pulled himself back onto the stage. His suit was disheveled, his face pale and trembling with sweat. The calm, self-assured CEO was gone, replaced by a desperate, broken man.
He pointed at the X-Men with shaking hands, eyes wild.
"What happened tonight—it had nothing to do with Hammer Industries!" he shouted. "It's THEIR fault! Those Mutants—they hacked the steel soldiers! This was all part of their plan!"
For a moment, the audience was stunned silent.
It was so brazen. So ridiculous.
Justin Hammer was trying to blame the heroes who had just saved thousands of lives.
And it only took seconds for the backlash to begin.
"Are you serious right now?!"
"That man nearly died saving a child and you're saying he's the villain?!"
"Shut your mouth, Hammer! We all saw what happened!"
"We've got it all on camera, you bastard! Every second!"
"You're finished, Hammer! NYPD's already on the way!"
The outcry swelled into a wave of righteous fury. People shouted, cursed, hurled accusations. Some even began to throw things. Bottles, programs, whatever they had.
Justin's face twisted in horror.
He tried to shout above the crowd: "You're all blind! This is a conspiracy—Mutants are dangerous, they want to control us!"
But no one was listening anymore.
The tide had turned.
The X-Men were the heroes of the day. And Justin Hammer had just become the most hated man in the city.
Somewhere in his chaotic mind, a voice began to whisper.
"You haven't lost yet..."
"This is all Ivan Vanko's doing... If he appears now and wipes them out, you can still escape blame..."
Justin shook his head, dazed. He didn't know if he was hearing things, but the thought took hold fast.
Desperation overtook reason.
"VANKE!!!" he howled at the ceiling like a madman. "You bastard! Show yourself!"
As if summoned by rage itself—
BOOM!
A massive explosion shattered the glass dome of the expo center. Shards of glass rained down like a hailstorm, and through the smoke and dust, a figure descended from the sky.
Clad in an armored suit more advanced and menacing than anything Hammer had ever produced, Ivan Vanko fell like a meteor.
His arms extended. Two crackling electrified energy whips lashed out with a sharp screech as he landed in the center of the chaos.
The crowd screamed. People ducked, scrambled, and fled.
Tony's eyes narrowed. "You've got to be kidding me..."
But the rest of the world was already drawing conclusions.
The journalists, the livestream audiences, the viewers at home—everyone saw the same thing.
"Justin Hammer... you lying piece of trash..."
"You WERE behind all this..."
"You tried to frame the X-Men and now your weapon just crashed the party!"
The narrative was clear. It didn't matter if Hammer had lost control of Vanko. The optics—the timing, the theatrics—left no room for interpretation.
In a single moment, Hammer Industries went from scandal to catastrophe.
His plans had backfired spectacularly. Not only had his tech turned against innocent people, but his final attempt to salvage the situation had damned him in front of the entire world.
Tony raised his hand, repulsors flaring.
Storm moved to protect Jean.
Cyclops lowered his visor, preparing to strike.
Even Joseph, standing at the edge of the chaos, had his hands clenched in fury, ready to unleash magic at any moment.
And above them all, Wolverine, still bleeding but clinging to life, whispered one word:
"...Run."
But it was far too late for that.
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