Ivan Vanko lashed out a whip of electricity toward Sharon.

If it struck, she would be torn in two on the spot.

"Die!" he shouted.

The electric whip, designed by Vanko with brutal precision, could extend mid-attack. As the crackling arc raced through the air toward Sharon, Vanko's eyes lit with vicious glee.

Buzz!

Rowan raised a single finger.

Instantly, the lightning-like whip froze mid-air, as if trapped in an invisible mire.

"What?"

Ivan's eyes went wide. His heart skipped a beat.

He tugged hard, trying to reel the whip back, but an overwhelming force was opposing him, holding the weapon in place.

He stared at Rowan, stunned.

Was it him?

What was this magic? Telekinesis?

Startled and furious, Vanko yanked harder.

Rowan gave a low, cold chuckle and casually flicked his finger forward.

Snap!

The electric whip recoiled violently.

Bang!

It struck Vanko squarely in the chest, erupting in a surge of sparks and thunderous noise.

He was thrown backward into the elevator. The walls buckled with metallic groans before the entire lift collapsed in on itself. Vanko tumbled down the shaft.

Outside the building, Sharon had just reached the front steps when the explosion echoed behind her. Her heart clenched. She turned back instinctively.

Rowan was still there, standing tall and unharmed. Vanko, however, had vanished.

Only then did she breathe a shaky sigh of relief.

Without wasting a second, Sharon pulled out her phone and frantically dialed.

"Maria! Rowan's in danger! Get here, now!"

"I'm already en route," came Hill's voice through the receiver.

Sharon blinked in surprise.

That fast?

Above New York, several helicopters were racing through the sky toward the Kroll Industries building.

In one of them sat Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, and Nick Fury.

As she kept her phone pressed to her ear, Hill peered through the window, scanning the horizon for signs of the blast.

When the explosion rocked Kroll Industries, Fury had been alerted almost immediately.

The tip had come from a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent embedded within the company.

Fury hadn't planned to come himself. But Hill and Natasha had insisted. He also saw it as an opportunity to support Rowan, boost trust, and most of all, to witness Rowan's strength firsthand.

He knew Rowan well enough by now. After something like this, the man wouldn't sit back and watch. He'd act.

And indeed, he had.

"Faster," Fury told the pilot.

"Yes, sir."

The helicopters accelerated toward the chaos below.

Meanwhile, deep within the building, Rowan leapt into the elevator shaft after Vanko.

Boom!

He landed hard, using no psychic power to cushion the impact. When he reached the bottom, Vanko was nowhere to be seen. The doors to the sublevel had been forcibly torn open.

Rowan's eyes narrowed.

"They're after the alloy storage."

The basement levels of Kroll Industries served dual purposes parking on one side, storage on the other designed to streamline the transportation of Kroll Alloy.

Without hesitation, Rowan sprinted toward the warehouse.

Sure enough, from a distance, he spotted several buzz-cut figures in tactical gear hurriedly loading alloy into a transport truck.

Amidst them stood the towering, silver figure of Ivan Vanko.

The moment Rowan appeared, the men looked up, meeting his gaze.

He saw the cold arrogance in their eyes.

"Extremis Soldiers," Rowan muttered, his expression calm.

He had expected as much. These were no ordinary thieves. Vanko was clearly working with Killian.

"Put it down."

Rowan's voice was low, his steps steady and deliberate.

The soldiers didn't answer. They exchanged glances, smirking.

"Don't be careless, you fools. His powers are... strange," Vanko warned bitterly. His chestplate was scorched, his lip bleeding from the earlier blow.

But the soldiers ignored him.

Their bodies shimmered faintly with a red, molten glow like embers beneath the skin.

Rowan's lip curled into a slight smirk.

He had been wanting to test the effects of the Extremis virus.

"Come."

He raised his hand and beckoned them forward with a mocking gesture.

The soldiers' eyes grew colder.

One of them, a young man with a cruel face, stepped out ahead of the others.

His right arm flared with red light. Within seconds, it was glowing like a branding iron, his forearm transformed into a molten weapon.

These were elite ex-military. Trained, ruthless, and silent.

Not a word. Just movement.

The soldier charged, his blazing fist raised high, ready to drive it straight through Rowan's chest.

Rowan didn't flinch. He walked forward as if strolling through a garden, completely unfazed by the oncoming threat.

The two figures were about to collide.

The Extremis soldier snarled and drove his searing-hot fist toward Rowan's chest.

A wave of blistering heat surged forward.

Rowan's eyes gleamed with faint interest.

That temperature easily over 2,000 degrees.

Enough to melt steel, to forge weapons by hand.

And the soldier's speed and strength? Easily on par with an elite martial academy graduate.

"Let's test their recovery rate."

As the fist neared, Rowan sidestepped in a blink and countered with a brutal left hook straight into the soldier's gut.

Boom!

The impact reverberated through the underground chamber like a cannon blast.

The Extremis soldier's body flew backward like a ragdoll, faster than he had charged in.

Crash!

He slammed into the warehouse's steel door, arms spread wide.

His body slid to the floor, limp. His abdomen had split open, glowing red like molten lava.

"What?"

The remaining three Extremis soldiers froze, eyes wide in disbelief.

Since receiving the virus, they had never seen one of their own taken down like that so fast, so violently.

Even Vanko flinched.

Upstairs, Rowan had shown strange abilities, as if wielding sorcery or telekinesis.

Now, he had displayed monstrous physical strength.

What the hell was this man?

Vanko's eyes flickered uneasily.

Clang!

The three remaining soldiers drew their weapons.

One brandished a combat blade, another a dagger. The third raised a compact ballistic shield in one hand, a pistol in the other.

Rowan glanced at their gear.

All of it forged from Kroll Alloy.

Killian hadn't wasted time.

These were high-temperature-resistant weapons, no doubt crafted from the batch he'd obtained earlier.

Click.

Suddenly, the soldier Rowan had knocked out groaned and began to rise.

He staggered to his feet, flesh still glowing, eyes filled with rage.

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