High above the open sea—nearly ten thousand meters in the air—Adam Wayne hovered silently, staring down at the tanker below through the imaging system in his helmet.
From this altitude, the massive ship looked no larger than a toy drifting in the water.
"Skynet, are the steel armor units in position?"
"All units are deployed and awaiting orders," Skynet's voice echoed in his ear.
"Clear the surrounding waters. Make sure no other ships approach the target."
"Activating shutdown plan."
"Execute it," Adam commanded coldly.
"Shutdown plan initiated."
"All network access ports are blocked."
"Radio signals are cut off."
"Satellite connections disabled."
"Engine shutdown in progress…"
Listening to Skynet's methodical updates, a smirk crept across Adam's face.
He would make this oil tanker disappear without a trace.
No messages sent. No witnesses left.
Through his helmet's display, Adam could already see movement on the deck below. Chaos had erupted on the ship. The crew was scrambling, clearly panicked by the sudden loss of power and communication.
But Adam wasn't surprised. He'd planned every detail.
Modern tankers, designed for efficiency, relied heavily on electronic systems. Everything—navigation, communications, and engine control—was handled through a central network.
Once Skynet infiltrated the system, manual overrides became useless.
This tanker was now nothing more than a drifting, isolated fortress surrounded by endless water.
Adam's smirk widened as he tilted forward, speeding toward the ship below.
On the tanker, chaos reigned.
"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Killian shouted, his voice sharp with frustration.
"Doctor, the main engine suddenly shut down, and we're unable to restart it!" one of his men stammered.
"All communications are down—radio, satellite, internet—everything's dead!"
Killian's eyes narrowed.
He'd only been resting for an hour. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?
"Figure it out!" he barked. "I want answers, now!"
Storming onto the deck, Killian scanned the horizon.
It didn't take long for his enhanced vision—courtesy of Extremis—to spot a flicker of light in the sky.
It was moving fast.
Killian's heart sank. He knew exactly what it was.
"Get ready for a firefight!" he shouted, waving his guards forward.
A team of black-clad soldiers rushed onto the deck, weapons raised toward the approaching fireball in the sky.
Seconds later, the figure came into view.
White and black armor, sleek and futuristic—it looked more like something out of science fiction than reality.
But Killian recognized it immediately.
"Adam Wayne…" he hissed through gritted teeth.
Adam hovered in the air, looking down at the chaos below.
"Hey," he called through his armor's external speaker. "Since you already know who I am, this is going to be fun."
Killian's glare intensified.
"Tell me how you found out about me," Adam continued. "Do that, and maybe I'll leave your corpse intact."
Killian's lips curled into a sneer.
"Cocky little bastard," he spat. "Don't think you're untouchable just because you're wearing a fancy suit!"
"Open fire!"
The soldiers didn't hesitate.
A hail of bullets lit up the night sky, streaking toward Adam.
"Skynet, analyze those rounds!" Adam barked, dodging to avoid the incoming fire.
"Analysis complete," Skynet responded.
"The firearms are standard models, but the bullets are custom-designed."
"They emit ionization pulses on impact—highly effective against electronic systems."
"Estimated damage probability: 90%."
Adam's eyes narrowed.
He hadn't expected this.
These weren't ordinary bullets—they were specifically designed to take out advanced technology like his armor.
"Killian," Adam muttered under his breath, "you've been busy."
Thankfully, Adam's instincts had kicked in just in time. The moment he saw the soldiers swap magazines, he'd climbed higher into the sky—just far enough to put himself out of range.
If he hadn't, the armor might already be scrap metal at the bottom of the ocean.
But the real question was—how the hell did Killian get this kind of weaponry?
The Extremis project focused on biotechnology, not advanced weapons systems.
Yet here he was, with bullets that could tear through some of the most sophisticated armor ever built.
Adam's gut told him Killian wasn't acting alone. Someone else was backing him.
"Skynet, send the signal—launch the Iron Legion."
The command sent hundreds of steel-armored units surging toward the tanker, cutting through the air and water like missiles.
Adam's eyes flashed coldly.
Killian had made a mistake.
He thought he was prepared.
He thought he had the upper hand.
But he had no idea what was coming next.
Meanwhile, Killian stared at Adam's distant figure, now hovering completely out of range.
"Coward!" Killian snarled. "He's scared to get close!"
One of his men stepped forward, carrying a sniper rifle.
"We can take him down," the soldier said.
Killian nodded. "Do it!"
But even as the sniper took aim, Killian couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Adam wasn't running away—he was waiting.
Waiting for something Killian hadn't seen yet.
By the time Killian realized what it was, it was already too late.
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