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Pepper's hands were clenched tightly, her voice trembling with worry and fear as she called out to Lemu.
"Wait! Isn't this too dangerous?!"
Her concern wasn't unfounded. A few days ago, Lemu and Stark had returned from Afghanistan with their armors covered in bullet holes and dried bloodstains. Now, he was heading into another fight, and she couldn't help but feel a knot of anxiety in her chest.
Through the faceplate of the Ghost Armor, Lemu's gaze locked onto Pepper's face, his mind racing.
Then, he suddenly spoke.
"You're right. It's incredibly dangerous. Which is exactly why you should wear this armor and save Tony. I'm confident you can do it. Move quickly—Tony's not exactly great at this. He might not last long."
Pepper's mouth opened in disbelief, her words faltering.
"You… you're not serious, are you?"
"Absolutely."
While Pepper stood there, paralyzed with hesitation, Coulson leaned forward, poking his head into the conversation with an enthusiastic expression.
"If she won't do it, I'll give it a shot."
He seemed genuinely eager, the kind of person who believed they could handle just about anything.
After all, as an agent, learning how to operate unusual weapons and gather classified intelligence was practically second nature.
Lemu stepped out of the Ghost Armor as its plates unfolded with a series of sharp, mechanical clicks.
The intricate transformation of the armor drew awed gasps from Coulson and the agents nearby.
Lemu glanced at Coulson with a look that could only be described as skeptical.
"You? Where does that confidence even come from?"
Then, with a pointed tone, he added, "Sorry, it's custom-made—strictly personal use. Besides, it wouldn't fit you anyway."
Lemu knew better than to lend his armor to a government agent. He could already imagine finding a few listening devices conveniently planted in it afterward.
With that, Lemu half-shoved, half-guided Pepper into the armor, not giving her time to fully process what was happening.
His voice turned stern and righteous, the epitome of moral conviction.
"It's all up to you now, Pepper! Tony needs your help! You're Stark's savior!"
The irony wasn't lost on him.
It was almost always the hero saving the damsel.
Why not flip the script?
This time, the beauty would save the hero.
"J.A.R.V.I.S. will guide you during the fight. There's a concentrated anti-armor missile in the left forearm. Just wait for the right moment to fire it, and the battle will be over."
He gave her a confident smile, his voice oozing assurance.
"Trust me—so easy."
Pepper, still stunned, didn't have time to argue.
Lemu's comment about the missile wasn't just empty talk either.
Tony's Mark armor had the same missile launcher built into its left arm, but he hadn't had time to reload it since Afghanistan.
Or rather—he never expected another battle to happen so soon.
The combat effectiveness of powered armor largely depended on the weapons it carried.
Without weapons, it was essentially a giant, mobile turtle shell.
Even so, the odds of Stark losing to the Iron Monger were slim.
Why?
Because Stark's "turtle shell" was superior in durability and designed for prolonged engagements.
This Mark III wasn't the same one from the original timeline.
With the Force Field Generator, it had become a juggernaut of defense, nearly impossible to penetrate.
While Stark might struggle to break through the Iron Monger's thick plating, he could outlast Obadiah—grinding him down until his suit ran out of power and ammunition.
Obadiah's Arc Reactor, stolen from Stark, wasn't even at full capacity.
It had been drained significantly during Stark's flight to Afghanistan.
Meanwhile, Stark's new Arc Reactor was fully charged—100% power.
Pepper was shoved awkwardly into the Ghost Armor, stumbling and protesting.
"Ah?! Hey!"
The metal plates shifted and enclosed her in smooth, flowing movements, wrapping her snugly in the suit.
Fortunately, the armor was designed to fit someone of Lemu's size—and without high heels, Pepper was only slightly taller than him.
Lucky for her she wore pants.
If she'd been in a skirt, it might've jammed somewhere.
But just as the armor began to seal—
"Ow! Ow! Stop! Wait!"
Pepper suddenly raised a hand, clutching the faceplate to stop it from closing.
"My hair is caught!"
Coulson's expression twitched, and among the agents, someone snorted audibly.
Lemu rolled his eyes, muttering.
"Go ahead and laugh. I don't care."
He had just praised their professionalism, and now this…
Slime biology didn't include hair, and Stark himself had short hair.
Naturally, the armor had never been designed to account for hair getting caught.
With a sigh, Lemu stood on his tiptoes, carefully untangling the trapped strands.
He then pulled a hair tie from his pocket and tied Pepper's hair into a quick ponytail.
"There. Problem solved."
Finally secure in the Ghost Armor, Pepper ignited the thrusters and took off.
With J.A.R.V.I.S.'s assistance, she flew smoothly toward Section 16, the location of the impending battle.
Lemu turned his gaze to the remaining group—Coulson and the five agents standing by.
Without hesitation, he assumed command, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"All of you—go secure the perimeter. Keep civilians away and prepare for cleanup. Move out immediately!"
The agents, recognizing his authority at the moment, didn't question him.
Lemu walked purposefully toward the battle, his back to the agents as he barked orders, gesturing with his fingers for emphasis.
"Keep civilians away, prepare for cleanup, and move now!"
Calling Coulson wasn't just to play nice—after all, Americans didn't care much for soy sauce.
No, Coulson's presence was strategic. Aside from protecting Pepper, his expertise in damage control made him invaluable for handling post-battle cleanup.
Moreover, Lemu knew he'd eventually cross paths with Nick Fury—and now was as good a time as any to start laying the groundwork.
"Understood," Coulson replied without hesitation, his demeanor calm and professional.
Protecting lives and property was part of his job—though, to be fair, "property" didn't always seem to apply when it came to certain agency activities. The number of times S.H.I.E.L.D. had "acquired" things wasn't exactly small.
Coulson quickly directed the five agents to fan out, each working to guide civilians to safety and secure the area.
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If you want to read 10+ chapters ahead and unpublished fanfics you can check out my patreon or just take a visit.
[P].[A].[T].[R].[E].[O].[N]
http://patreon.com/Kazuma_trash