Marvel, start by marrying the Scarlet Witch

Luxury cars lined the entrance to the showroom. New York's elite—wealthy business tycoons, influential political figures, and high-ranking military officials—had all gathered for the event.

Major media outlets were there too. Flashes fired in quick succession as reporters jostled for photos and angles. The entire square buzzed with anticipation.

A massive crowd of ordinary citizens had also gathered outside, drawn in by colorful flyers. Though not permitted inside, they eagerly watched a live feed of the event projected onto a giant screen in the square.

Street vendors seized the opportunity, setting up food trucks selling ice cream, burgers, and sodas, while balloon artists and clowns entertained restless children. The whole area had transformed into a festival.

But the crowd wasn't all that interested in Hammer Industries' new products. They were mostly here for the fireworks show scheduled after the presentation.

Amid the lively square moved Carl, Wanda, May, and young Peter.

"Carl, look!" Wanda pointed excitedly at the massive screen mounted on the side of the building. "It's starting!"

The screen, which had been looping a promotional video about Hammer Industries' history, suddenly switched to a live view of the stage inside the exhibition hall.

Justin Hammer appeared, striding to the center of the podium with exaggerated flair, dancing a little before grabbing the mic.

Outside, the surrounding citizens turned their eyes to the screen, intrigued by the shift.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Hammer began, "for years, we've sent brave American soldiers into harm's way. Then came Iron Man, and we believed the era of sacrificing lives was over. But... he hoarded his technology. He refused to share it with the world. What a shame."

The camera briefly panned to Tony Stark, seated in the front row beside Pepper Potts, who was holding a portable Iron Man suit. Tony offered a winning smile—then flipped Hammer the middle finger.

Hammer's smile faltered, but he quickly recovered.

"No worries, my friends. Hammer Industries is here to deliver. The press won't have enough ink for tomorrow's headlines." He motioned dramatically to the side of the stage. "Now, allow me to introduce America's new military might: the Hammer Iron Soldiers!"

Spotlights burst to life.

Eight gleaming, three-meter-tall steel robots rose from beneath the right side of the stage. Their frames looked militarized, angular, and armored.

"This is our Army model," Hammer said proudly. "And over here—our Navy unit!"

Eight more robots surfaced on the left.

"And finally—our Air Force and Marine Corps divisions!"

Sixteen more robots ascended in perfect synchronization, flanking the stage on both sides.

Gasps rippled through the audience. Even Tony, who had expected a clown show, furrowed his brow.

He could tell at a glance—these weren't just props. The design looked almost functional. And given Hammer Industries' known limitations, that shouldn't have been possible.

"Hammer Industries stands at attention for our country!" Hammer declared. He raised a sharp salute, and the thirty-two robots mimicked the gesture in unison.

"Still no sign of War Machine," Carl observed, standing in the crowd outside. "I guess Tony hasn't let Rhodes take the suit after all."

Originally, when Tony believed he was dying from palladium poisoning, he had faked a fallout with Rhodes and passed the War Machine suit to him. But now that Carl had found a way to neutralize the toxicity, Tony no longer felt the need to hand it over—especially with the government breathing down his neck.

Suddenly—

DADADADADA!

All thirty-two robots raised their arm-mounted weapons and unleashed a synchronized volley. Bullets tore through the glass-paneled ceiling of the exhibition hall, sending shards raining down on the VIP crowd.

Panic erupted. Screams filled the air as socialites, generals, and politicians scattered in terror.

"Pepper, it's not safe! Find Happy and get out!" Tony barked, pulling on the Iron Man suit as fast as possible.

Pepper didn't argue. She nodded and slipped away through the chaos.

Inside, the robots locked onto Tony, recalibrating their aim.

"Really, Hammer?" Tony's voice crackled through his helmet's speaker. "You trying to kill me in front of all these people? That's... impressively stupid."

Hammer, now sweating and pale, stammered, "N-no! This isn't me! I didn't authorize this! It's Vanko! Ivan Vanko! He designed these—he must've hijacked them!"

It was true. Killing Tony here would ruin Hammer, not elevate him. His entire plan hinged on impressing the military and government with these robot soldiers. A massacre was not part of the script.

Tony didn't wait for more answers. He blasted upward through the shattered roof, evading the incoming gunfire and disappearing into the sky.

He needed time—time to regroup and come back with something more powerful. The portable suit he wore now was lighter, easier to carry, but lacked the full range of weapons and armor of his standard gear.

Outside, panic had also gripped the crowd. People scattered in every direction, knocking over carts and leaving balloons floating in the air.

Carl stayed calm, dialing a number on his burner phone. "Get May and Peter out of here now," he ordered. His trusted driver, already parked nearby, nodded and drove off with them safely inside.

He then turned to Wanda and said, "This one's going to be tougher than anything we've faced. Stay alert."

Wanda gave a wicked grin, her fingers already glowing crimson. "Don't worry. I'm not some fragile witch anymore."

With a flick of Carl's wand, his clothes shimmered and morphed into the dark, elegant robes of a wizard.

Wanda snapped her fingers, summoning her red cloak and battle-ready leather armor—the familiar suit of the Scarlet Witch.

Side by side, they turned toward the chaos, ready to face whatever threat Ivan Vanko had unleashed next.