Ultimate Iron Man

AN: C'mon you all, more Powerstones if you want me to upload daily.

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Hank Pym stood in his workshop, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the lab's computer monitors. Before him was his Ant-Man suit, though calling it that now didn't do it justice. This was no longer the simple shrinking suit he'd used during his early missions. He'd spent the last three sleepless nights upgrading every component. The wings, inspired by Janet's Wasp design, gleamed faintly in the fluorescent light. A miniaturized propulsion system now enabled true flight, giving him the edge he sorely needed for this mission.

He slipped into the suit, the helmet fitting snugly over his head. As the internal HUD came to life, a familiar voice spoke.

"Everything seems operational, Dr. Pym," his AI companion, R.E.D. (Resourceful Engineering Device), chimed in. "Flight capabilities are nominal, and the new cloaking system is fully functional. Would you like me to run another diagnostic?"

"No time, R.E.D. We're doing this live." Hank's voice was firm, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his nerves.

"Understood. I've also preloaded the Soviet communication frequencies you requested. You'll be able to intercept and decode their transmissions within a 15-mile radius."

"Good." Hank activated the suit's shrinking mechanism, his body compressing down to the size of an ant. He leaped onto a waiting drone that zipped him toward the ventilation shaft, his chosen point of exit.

As he soared into the night, Hank replayed Tony's words in his mind. The man, whoever he was, had given him a lead. But trust was a luxury Hank couldn't afford. He'd verify the intel himself. If this was a trap, he would uncover it. And if it wasn't… well, Hydra wouldn't know what hit them.

[Soviet Base]

The Soviet facility was hidden deep within a frozen wasteland, surrounded by towering pine trees and a blanket of snow that seemed to absorb all sound. From his aerial vantage point, Hank watched the base through his helmet's enhanced optics. Soldiers patrolled the perimeter, their movements methodical and precise. The main structure was a squat, concrete building. There was an array of antennas bristling from the roof. Not to mention the automated turrets.

"R.E.D., scan the area," Hank commanded.

"Scanning… the facility houses approximately 46 personnel, including guards and engineers. Thermal signatures indicate a secured underground bunker. That is likely where their missile control center is located."

"Figures," Hank muttered. "Let's get inside."

The upgraded suit's wings buzzed softly as he descended toward the base. Activating the cloaking system, Hank rendered himself invisible to both the naked eye and electronic surveillance. He slipped past the guards at the main gate, shrinking further to avoid detection. At the size of a flea, he darted through a crack beneath the door.

Inside, the facility was a hive of activity. Engineers huddled over blueprints, soldiers marched through corridors, and radio operators relayed encrypted messages. Hank navigated the labyrinthine halls, his HUD guiding him toward the bunker entrance.

"R.E.D., are we picking up any chatter about Hydra or the missile?" he asked.

"Negative, Dr. Pym. Most transmissions are routine. However, I've flagged a secure channel that could be of interest. Shall I attempt to decrypt it?"

"Do it."

As the AI worked, Hank arrived at a heavily guarded elevator. It was the only access point to the underground bunker. He perched on a guard's shoulder, listening as they exchanged passcodes and swiped keycards.

"Got it," Hank whispered, memorizing the sequence. He jumped from the guard's shoulder onto the keypad, using the suit's built-in interface to mimic the access code. The elevator doors slid open, and he slipped inside unnoticed.

The elevator descended slowly, the temperature dropping slightly as it carried him deeper into the earth. When the doors opened, he was greeted by a sprawling command center. Dozens of monitors lined the walls, displaying missile schematics, surveillance footage, and streams of data in Russian. At the center of the room was the missile itself, a towering behemoth, its warhead gleaming ominously under the fluorescent lights.

"R.E.D., analyze the warhead," Hank said. 'So, he was right. Damn, these bastards! If it weren't for the plan, I'd have destroyed this entire place."

"Analysis complete. The payload is consistent with a high-yield thermonuclear device. Based on its targeting systems, the missile is primed to strike the United States."

Hank's stomach tightened. Janet's mission had been to retrieve intel about Soviet missile development, but Hydra's interference had turned it into a death trap. If the missile launched, millions could die and Janet would likely be among the casualties.

"Decrypt complete," R.E.D. announced. "The secure channel contains directives from Hydra operatives embedded within the Soviet ranks. They plan to activate a secondary sabotage mechanism during the missile test to ensure mission failure."

"Bastards," Hank growled. "Can we disable it?"

"Affirmative. However, accessing the sabotage mechanism will require direct interaction with the missile's control panel."

Hank scanned the room. Soviet engineers were clustered around the control panel, their attention focused on the missile's diagnostics. He couldn't risk exposing himself. He needed a distraction.

He activated the suit's swarm protocol, releasing a contingent of robotic ants from a compartment on his back. The tiny machines scurried across the floor, heading toward the facility's power junction. Within moments, the lights flickered, and the room plunged into darkness.

The engineers scrambled, shouting in Russian as they tried to restore power. In the chaos, he flew toward the control panel, landing on its surface. He re-sized to a few inches tall, just enough to interact with the controls.

"R.E.D., guide me through the sabotage mechanism."

"Accessing… the mechanism is located within the missile's targeting system. You'll need to interface directly with its internal circuitry."

Hank's hands moved fast, dismantling the panel and exposing the intricate wiring beneath. He connected a data cable from his suit to the missile, allowing R.E.D. to begin reprogramming the targeting system.

"Reprogramming in progress. Estimated time: 90 seconds," the AI reported.

"Hurry it up," Hank muttered. The engineers were already beginning to restore power, and it wouldn't be long before they noticed him.

The room remained chaotic, with engineers scrambling to resolve the power outage, unaware of the true sabotage occurring under their noses. The missile's targeting system chirped softly, signaling the completion of the override.

"Reprogramming complete," R.E.D. announced. "Missile target coordinates have been updated to Hydra's Siberian base. Secondary command protocols embedded and secured."

Hank disconnected his suit from the control panel and sealed the access port. "Good work, R.E.D. Let's move." He shrank to his smallest size and buzzed toward the ceiling vents, narrowly avoiding a guard who entered the room with a flashlight.

The next phase of the plan required access to the facility's main server room. Hank navigated through the ventilation system, using his suit's enhanced optics to map the base's layout. The server room was located near the center of the underground facility, heavily secured with biometric scanners and armed guards.

However, he shrank even further than the smallest of ants. He flew through a gap between the server room door and its frame, hovering over a surveillance camera.

"R.E.D., take control of the server room cameras and loop the footage."

"Accessing...cameras disabled."

"Perfect. Now we need a backdoor installed... something deep and untraceable."

"Understood, Dr. Pym. Beginning interface."

Hank connected his suit to the server terminal, watching as lines of code scrolled across his HUD. "How long?"

"Estimated time: three minutes. I recommend staying alert; the power restoration efforts will likely draw attention here soon."

"Noted," Hank muttered, his eyes scanning the room. He adjusted his suit's cloaking field, blending into the shadows.

R.E.D. worked efficiently as the seconds ticked by, embedding a covert access point deep within the server's code. This backdoor would allow Hank to monitor and manipulate the facility's systems remotely, a critical advantage for the larger mission.

"Backdoor installation complete," R.E.D. reported. "Additionally, I have uncovered data indicating the existence of six more facilities identical to this one, each housing nuclear warheads."

"Six more?" His eyes widened.

"Correct. I am transferring their coordinates to your HUD. Each facility appears to be operational and connected to Hydra's overarching network."

Hank's mind raced. Destroying one missile was no longer enough. If he didn't act, millions more lives would be at risk. "We're taking them all down. Let's get to work."

Throughout the night, Hank infiltrated each facility with precision. Using the backdoor installed in the first server, he disabled security protocols and bypassed biometric locks. His suit's cloaking and shrinking capabilities made him virtually undetectable, allowing him to move freely through each base.

He reprogrammed the warheads at each facility, redirecting their targeting systems to Hydra's known bases. The sabotage mechanisms embedded in the missiles were meticulously hidden within layers of code, ensuring that even Hydra's most skilled engineers would struggle to uncover them.

As Hank completed his work at the final facility, exhaustion began to set in. His suit's power reserves were running low, and his body ached from hours of relentless effort. Still, he pressed on, driven by the knowledge that Janet's life and countless others depended on him. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. He had done it. The warheads were sabotaged, and their targets were redirected to Hydra's strongholds. Janet's mission could proceed without the looming threat of nuclear devastation.

Back in his lab, Hank powered down his suit and removed the helmet. His body felt heavy, every muscle protesting after the night's ordeal. He sank into a chair, staring at the screen displaying the coordinates of the sabotaged facilities.

"Six bases, six missiles," he muttered. "Hydra won't know what hit them."

R.E.D. chimed in. "The sabotage mechanisms are secure. However, I recommend monitoring Hydra's communications for any signs of suspicion."

"Agreed," Hank said. He leaned back, exhaustion finally overtaking him. Despite the toll, he felt a sense of accomplishment. For the first time in years, he had struck a decisive blow against Hydra and protected the woman he loved.

As he closed his eyes, his thoughts turned to the anonymous ally who had provided the initial intel. Whoever they were, they had given him a chance to fight back. "Thank you."

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