Ironman: Fallen Shield

Stark Tower

He knew he had to find the killer. He had to avenge Steve. The clock was ticking, and the hunt was on.

The air in the Stark Tower was thick with tension as Tony Stark sat hunched over his holographic display, his brow furrowed in concentration. The image of Steve Rogers' lifeless body flickered before him, a stark reminder of the brutal murder that had taken place in Times Square the night before.

"Jarvis," Tony called out, his voice raspy with exhaustion. "Any leads on the killer?"

"Unfortunately, sir," Jarvis replied, his voice calm and collected despite the urgency of the situation. "I have been unable to identify any suspects or motives. The security footage from the surrounding area is inconclusive, and there are no witnesses who have come forward with any helpful information."

Tony slammed his fist on the table, frustration bubbling over. "This can't be happening, Jarvis! Steve can't just be gone. We have to find the person who did this."

"I understand your frustration, sir," Jarvis said. "But we must remain calm and methodical in our investigation. I have already alerted the authorities and am working with them to gather as much evidence as possible."

Tony took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions. He knew Jarvis was right, but the thought of Steve's killer being out there, free and unpunished, filled him with a burning rage.

"Alright, Jarvis," he said, his voice steely with determination. "Let's start with the CCTV footage. I want you to analyze every frame, every angle. Look for anything suspicious, anything that might give us a clue about the killer."

"Of course, sir," Jarvis replied. "I will also continue to monitor social media and news reports for any potential leads. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest. You will need your strength for what lies ahead."

Tony nodded, his eyes heavy with fatigue. He knew Jarvis was right, but sleep seemed impossible. The image of Steve's lifeless body haunted him, and the thought of his friend's killer still at large gnawed at him.

He retreated to his chamber, hoping that a few hours of sleep would help him clear his head and come up with a new plan. But as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he knew that sleep would not come easily. The ghost of Steve Rogers would keep him awake, a constant reminder of the unfinished business that lay before him.