At precisely eight o'clock in the evening, the grand Hammer Industry Fair began.
The venue was a spectacle of light and sound, with a massive stage, synchronized drones for camera angles, and walls of LED screens flashing the Hammer Industries logo. The air buzzed with excitement as guests from the military, government, and global media filled the auditorium.
Then, onto the stage danced none other than Justin Hammer himself.
Wearing a tailored white suit and oversized sunglasses, he moved flamboyantly, trying his best to imitate Tony Stark's charisma—but instead of looking suave, he resembled a cheap parody. His exaggerated gestures and forced charm drew polite laughter, but the crowd could tell: he wasn't Tony.
Trying to act like a tiger, he ended up barking like a dog.
And yet, the audience played along. Every time he delivered a line he clearly thought was comedic gold, the audience responded with over-the-top laughter, shaking the hall with echoes of approval.
But none of this was about him.
No one was here for Justin Hammer. All attention, all hope, all curiosity—was aimed squarely at one thing.
The Iron Armor.
And Justin Hammer knew it.
So he didn't waste time pretending otherwise. With an exaggerated grin plastered on his face, he shouted, "Ladies and gentlemen! The moment you've all been waiting for… let me introduce the latest weapon in Hammer Industries' revolutionary arsenal—THE IRON SOLDIER!"
The hall exploded in applause and camera flashes.
One by one, four different types of Iron Soldiers rolled out onto the stage—each representing a military branch: army, navy, air force, and marine corps.
Unlike Tony Stark's Iron Man suits, these were more like advanced remote-controlled drones—formidable, but lacking agility and soul. The audience was impressed, but not blown away.
Which is why Hammer pulled out his trump card.
Taking a dramatic breath, he bellowed into the mic: "Next… I'm proud—no, honored—to unveil the prototype mecha equipped with our most advanced combat-response armor!"
He raised a hand to the ceiling.
"Please welcome… WAR MACHINE!!"
As thunderous music erupted, Colonel James Rhodes strode onto the stage inside the War Machine suit. Compared to the clunky Iron Soldiers, War Machine moved with human precision. His eyes darted left and right, the armor reacting in sync.
It was obvious to everyone—there was a person inside this suit.
After a brief salute, the armored mask retracted, revealing Rhodes' face to the world.
Back in the audience, Joseph couldn't help but laugh. "Unbelievable. That's the armor Tony built… and Rhodes just handed it over to Hammer, who slapped a new coat of paint on it and called it his own invention."
Shadowcat, standing beside him, smirked knowingly. "No worries. We've hijacked the live broadcast. No matter what happens tonight—even if this whole place blows sky high—the internet will see everything."
Jubilation Lee leaned in, whispering excitedly, "Tony's on his way. ETA: five minutes."
Storm, Cyclops, Phoenix, and Wolverine all exchanged glances.
The real show was about to begin.
Right on cue, just as Hammer prepared to brag more about War Machine's capabilities, a strange, distorted laugh echoed through the loudspeakers.
"HAMMER," the voice sneered, "YOU IDIOT, YOU TALK TOO MUCH!"
The smile on Justin Hammer's face froze.
The audience murmured in confusion. Then, before anyone could react, the voice came again:
"TONY STARK, THE SHAMELESS THIEF! MY FAMILY'S FORTY-YEAR GRUDGE ENDS TONIGHT!"
"And all you FOOLS who worship Iron Man like a god? You can DIE for him!"
A horrifying mechanical click rang out.
War Machine's shoulder cannon extended ominously, locking directly onto the crowd. At the same time, every one of the thirty-two Iron Soldiers raised their arms—muzzles glowing with deadly intent.
Terror swept through the room.
"Oh God…"
The crowd froze in horror. No one even screamed. It happened too fast.
A second later—
Da-da-da-da-da—!!!
Bullets erupted like a torrential downpour from every Iron Soldier.
Thousands of lives were about to be lost in seconds.
But at that crucial moment…
Without waiting for a cue from Joseph, the X-Men sprang into action.
Phoenix was the first to move.
She stood up calmly, her red dress fluttering despite the still air. Her eyes gleamed with incandescent light. In an instant, a radiant psychic force burst from her, forming a barrier across the auditorium.
The incoming bullets—
froze mid-air.
Every single one of them.
The crowd gasped.
Phoenix lifted her arm and flicked her fingers. The bullets spun in mid-air, then rocketed backward, slamming into the attacking robots. War Machine and the Iron Soldiers rattled under the impact.
Some bullets missed and grazed past Hammer's face. He screamed like a frightened child.
"GET DOWN, YOU IDIOT!"
Wolverine, moving like a predator, bounded onto the stage. In a flash, he kicked Hammer off his feet and tackled him behind a display. Without missing a beat, Logan lunged again—his Adamantium claws gleamed under the spotlights as he tore off War Machine's cannon in one powerful slash.
Sparks flew.
The War Machine staggered backward, its targeting systems scrambled.
"WHAT THE HELL?!" Rhodes barked from inside, shocked and enraged. "Hammer! What's going on?! I can't control it!"
"I DON'T KNOW!" Hammer screamed from the floor, trying to crawl away.
Then—a blast of red light split the stage.
Cyclops had removed his visor.
A beam of destructive energy shot forward, piercing an Iron Soldier straight through the chest. The robot collapsed, sparks flying.
Then Cyclops turned, sweeping his gaze left and right—laser beams sliced through half a dozen more robots like a hot knife through butter. One by one, they dropped in piles of metal.
Justin Hammer gaped, as if seeing literal aliens.
"WHAT—WHO THE HELL ARE THESE PEOPLE?!"
Elsewhere, Ivan Vanko, the mastermind behind the sabotage, stared at his monitors in disbelief. This wasn't part of the plan.
Frantically, he tapped at his keyboard.
White energy glowed beneath the Iron Soldiers' feet.
They began to fly—taking off one by one in retreat.
But before they could gain altitude—
BOOM!
Storm rose into the air, eyes glowing white, her gown fluttering like storm clouds. Electricity crackled around her.
She extended both hands.
Lightning speared across the sky, hitting the retreating Iron Soldiers mid-air. Explosions popped like fireworks, and flaming debris rained down onto the ruined stage.
The Iron Soldiers tumbled like broken toys.
If this had been Tony's suit, the electricity might've just powered it up.
But Vanko's tech? Unstable. Cheap. Vulnerable.
The lightning fried their circuits on impact.
Within two minutes—more than half the robots were down.
Ivan Vanko stared blankly at the screen, his plan unraveling in real time.
The crowd was stunned.
The press was stunned.
Millions watching the livestream were stunned.
They had just witnessed a team of mysterious figures take on rogue military-grade weapons—and win.
Meanwhile, in the middle of it all, Joseph sat calmly in his chair, grinning ear to ear.
"I didn't expect the X-Men to go viral on their first public debut," he chuckled. "How's the footage?"
Shadowcat grinned. "Crystal clear. Every second of it."
Jubilation Lee nodded. "Already syncing it to every major platform."
And just like that, in one unforgettable night—
The X-Men stepped into the global spotlight.
Not as shadows.
Not as rumors.
But as superheroes—real, undeniable, and unforgettable.
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