40. How many damn chapters have I got to make?

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Tony pushed past the others, pressing a button on his Iron-hand.

Not even the crows will bother to peck at your corpse.

How very un-tony like. I shook my head. Of course. Sounded like something Andrei would say.

I looked to Loki in plea. They hadn't figured it out yet. Steve stood there, at a loss for what to do; I guess he had never dealt with a teenager before. Clint looked like he was going to run after me himself. Loki, he's contro-

Something slammed into me. And then I was on the ground, buried knee-deep in snow, dots forming in my vision.

I stood up, to dive into another pile of snow, just to see where I was explode, a bright white light intruding my vision. I looked up, and there it was. The iron-man suit, flying in midair.

Gleaming and hotrod red, stark against the white snow.

It flew in the air, aiming it's guns at me, ready for another attack. But I was too quick, forming a think shield out of ice, which broke almost immediately after the repulsers hit.

I shot at it with some icicles, but it wouldn't go through the thick metal. This wasn't the hulk buster. It wasn't slow and big. It was light and agile, something that would make destroying it a lot harder. I wouldn't be able to get into the nooks and cranny's, I would have to take it down with sheer force, something I didn't have a lot of.

I dodged again, the ground beside me blowing up, covering me in snow.

Fire wouldn't save me either. Unless I got it so hot that it melted Stark's armour.

I formed another ice wall, making it thicker, making it denser, waiting for the next repulser to hit.

But...

I thought back to the shed. I was controlled. If I got another flashback right now, I wouldn't put it passed me to kill everyone, and with the iron-man suit, it would be even worse.

Time stood still, my mind whirring at a million miles per hour.

Should I let the suit kill me, wiping out a threat before I hurt anyone else, Or should I destroy it, not only saving me, but potentially the others. Either way, there would be a threat at the end. Me, or it. But if I kept fighting this suit, I could get a flashback, and therefore there would be two threats. I didn't have many options. Get the suit down quickly, or let it kill me.

I turned around to see Stark in the snow, Steve punching the living daylights out of him. Clint was in the house, searching for his bow and arrow, I hoped.

Maybe if Steve could get the iron-man hand, he could stop the suit.

Loki looked into my eyes. I wish I could help you. My powers aren't useful here.

Stay there. Don't you dare try and help me. I left two handguns under the couch pillow.

I threw a couple of blades at the suit, one bounced off the armour, another lodged itself in the neck. Bingo. I just had to get another two or so in there, and surely the suit would malfunction.

The iron-man suit blasted into my shield, cracking it like glass. I tried to make it thicker, make it colder, I manged to coat the suit's hands in ice, just for them to melt immediately.

Why on earth would you leave handguns in the couch?!

Don't blame me, I'm paranoid.

Steve finally stopped punching Tony, fiddling with the iron-hand on his wrist, trying to get the whole thing to stop in it's tracks.

The iron-man suit got ready to fire at me again, charging up the repulsors, and I knew that this shot would break the ice. I shielded myself from the upcoming shot. I scrunched my face, readying myself.

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