Ironman: Fallen Shield

31st December,Time Square

The confetti swirled in the air, a kaleidoscope of colors against the backdrop of the illuminated skyscrapers. The air crackled with anticipation as the crowd in Times Square roared, their voices a unified chorus counting down the final seconds of the year.

A hush fell over the throng as the clock tower chimed eleven fifty-nine, the giant numerals glowing brightly against the night sky. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as a loud, jarring sound pierced the festive atmosphere. It was a sickening thud, followed by a strangled cry that sent shivers down spines.

In the midst of the jubilant chaos, a figure lay crumpled on the ground, a crimson stain blossoming on their chest. The festive lights cast an eerie glow on the scene, highlighting the stark contrast between the joyous revelry and the sudden, brutal death.
Panic erupted. The crowd surged backward, screams echoing through the concrete jungle. The carefree celebration had been shattered, replaced by a chilling sense of terror. Amidst the pandemonium, a lone figure stood frozen in shock, their eyes wide with disbelief.

It was Tony Stark, his face etched with horror as he stared at the lifeless body of his friend and fellow Avenger, Steve Rogers. The old soldier, Captain America himself, lay motionless, his weathered face contorted in a final grimace.

The weight of the moment crashed down on Tony. The man who had faced down cosmic threats and defended the world countless times was now gone, struck down in the heart of New York City. The festive atmosphere felt like a cruel mockery, a stark reminder of the fragility of life.
As the sirens wailed in the distance, Tony knelt beside his fallen friend, his mind racing. Who would do this to Steve? And why? The questions gnawed at him, fueling a burning desire for justice.