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130 Allens: I Am Iron Man
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 12:06:29 +0000 UTCRumble.
Night had fallen over New York. A series of fiery explosions lit up the sky in front of the Stark Tower. Within the inferno, the massive four-meter-tall Iron Monger was blasted apart piece by piece.
High above, a news helicopter hovered. Inside, a New York Times reporter stared out the window in disbelief. He was so stunned that he didn’t even react until the cameraman behind him nudged him.
“It’s unbelievable! The red-and-gold Iron Man just defeated the Iron Monster! Iron Man saved New York! Oh my God… I guess we can officially call him Iron Man now!”
His voice was trembling with excitement, full of awe and relief.
“Iron Man… what a cool name.”
“Yeah! Only the man who saved New York and defeated that monster deserves to be called Iron Man!”
“Iron Man! Iron Man! Iron Man!”
Across the city, citizens cheered in unison as the live broadcast played. Everyone was thrilled — when New York was in peril, it was Iron Man who had saved them. In moments, his name spread like wildfire across the world.
After destroying the Iron Monger, Allens soared to the top of Stark Tower. Waiting for him on the rooftop helipad was Wanda Maximoff, her expression soft and warm. She walked forward and gently embraced Allens as he stepped out of the steel armor.
“Mr. Allens,” Wanda said with a smile, “I’ve taken full control of Stark Industries’ board. From now on, you’re officially the CEO.”
“Good job, sweetheart.”
Allens smiled, kissed her softly, and his gaze darkened.
Moments earlier, just after he’d finished off the Iron Monger, Allens had received a transmission from Colonel James Rhodes of the U.S. military. The military wanted to hold a press conference on behalf of Stark Industries, urging Allens to publicly distance himself from Iron Man. Rhodes, of course, knew exactly who was inside that armor.
Reporters from every major media outlet were already crowding outside the Stark Tower, eager for a statement after the battle that had taken place right on its doorstep.
Buzz—buzz—
A military helicopter descended through the night sky, landing on the rooftop with a roar. Colonel Rhodes stepped out, his face tense and serious.
“Well, Tony, looks like you’ve still got time to flirt while New York’s in flames,” he said sharply, glaring at Allens and Wanda in each other’s arms.
The military had been watching closely. They were extremely interested in the advanced suit’s combat performance during the Iron Monger incident. The brass wanted the armor’s technology — at any cost.
“Hey, Rhodey,” Allens said lazily, turning toward him. “Don’t tell me the military’s got nothing better to do. Or are you just here to crash my party?”
Rhodes frowned. “Cut the jokes, Tony. People died tonight. Who’s responsible for this mess?”
He handed Allens a press release, his tone heavy.
“Who knows?” Allens replied carelessly. “But I heard Obadiah Stane — our dear second-largest shareholder — might’ve had a heart attack from all the excitement. Poor guy.”
He smirked, glancing over the papers. It was just an official statement declaring that the Iron Monger’s rampage had nothing to do with Stark Industries or Tony Stark.
“Iron Man, huh? The military’s new secret weapon?” Allens scoffed.
He tucked the document under his arm and entered the elevator, descending from the rooftop to the main lobby.
The lobby was packed wall-to-wall with reporters. This was the first time so many media personnel had gathered here since Stark Industries had announced the shutdown of its weapons division.
They were already buzzing with speculation, calling the Iron Monger attack one of the worst terrorist incidents in New York’s history — and painting Iron Man as the city’s new savior. The place was a madhouse.
But as Allens stepped onto the stage, the noise fell silent. Every camera turned toward him.
“I heard something big happened tonight,” Allens began casually. “Some kind of metal maniac tearing through the city?”
On the big screen behind him, footage of the Iron Monger’s rampage played in full view.
“Now, according to some people,” he continued, setting the press release down on the podium, “I was somehow involved in that little fireworks show out there.”
Wanda, standing just behind him as his personal assistant, remained silent. A faint red glow flickered in her right hand — unnoticed by anyone.
“Mr. Stark,” a journalist stood up, her eyes flashing red for an instant. “We have photographic evidence suggesting you were wearing a red-and-gold steel suit and fighting the Iron Monger on the highway. Look — these images were sent to us anonymously. The outline in them looks just like you.”
“Hey, beautiful,” Allens said with a teasing grin. “Are you saying I’m the superhero who saved New York?”
He paused, feigning surprise, then chuckled. “Obviously, I’m not hero material. I’ve made… well, plenty of mistakes. I’ve got a few character flaws too.”
His words made Colonel Rhodes tense beside him. Rhodes leaned in and whispered urgently, “Stick to the script, Tony.”
Allens straightened, his expression shifting to something deadly serious. The smirk faded, replaced by Tony Stark’s classic intensity.
“The truth is…” he said, pausing just long enough for every camera to zoom in.
“I am Iron Man.”
For a moment, the room went completely still. Then chaos erupted.
Reporters shouted questions, flashbulbs exploded, and the world’s media scrambled to transmit the footage.
“Breaking news! The CEO of Stark Industries — billionaire playboy Tony Stark — has admitted to being Iron Man, the hero who saved New York!”
“Long live Iron Man! Long live Tony Stark!”
“Tony Stark’s Iron Man suit is the most advanced weapon in history — but he’s using it to protect the people!”
News channels, newspapers, and social media exploded with coverage.
Tony Stark’s words — “I am Iron Man” — marked the beginning of a new era.
The Age of Heroes had begun.
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