Marvel: Starting with One Piece Template

The night air outside Sector 16 was thick with heat and smoke. The battered SHIELD agents, Pepper, Coulson, and Illyana emerged from the broken facility, their breaths heavy, adrenaline still roaring in their ears.

Behind them, the building trembled. Sparks rained from shattered security lights. Emergency sirens wailed somewhere deep inside Stark Industries.

Glenn emerged last, moving quickly and efficiently to the side of the others. His suit was torn, his gloves scuffed, but his breathing was calm. He paused only to check that everyone was upright.

"Stay low," Glenn instructed. "We're not clear yet."

And then the roof behind them burst apart.

With a roar of steel and fury, Iron Monger exploded out of Sector 16 like a missile. Shards of concrete and iron rained down. The building convulsed with the force of his escape. His glowing eyes locked onto the fleeing group.

Glenn barely had time to curse. "Everyone down!"

But the retaliation never came.

Because from the clouds above, Tony Stark fell like a meteor.

The Iron Man armor slammed into Iron Monger with titanic force. The two juggernauts rolled through the rooftop debris, crashing into a parked SUV and sending it flying into a wall. Metal screamed against metal as they clashed, fists and repulsors colliding with the force of jet engines.

The impact shockwave nearly knocked Glenn off his feet. He turned to Illyana immediately.

"Guard them. Get them somewhere safe, somewhere distant," he ordered without looking back. "I'm staying close in case something unexpected happen."

Illyana nodded without a word. She ushered Pepper and the agents down the service alley behind the building, Coulson keeping close.

Glenn moved parallel to the chaos, keeping his distance, but never looking away. His stance was relaxed, amused even, hands in his pockets as Iron Man and Iron Monger tore the streets apart.

"Well, well," he muttered, cigarette between his teeth. "Robo-Baldy Rage versus Tin Can Ego. Best metal street brawl I've seen since Real Steel movie."

Iron Man ducked a massive punch and responded with a repulsor blast that scorched Iron Monger's chestplate.

"Try aiming, Tony! Or is Friday night spaghetti still fogging up your optics?" Glenn shouted.

Tony's voice crackled through the helmet speaker, exasperated. "Nice of you to show up, Glenn. You bring popcorn, or just the peanut gallery?"

"That's actually not a bad suggestion. For now. I figured you'd be enough of a mess to entertain me. I say, you're getting cooked." Glenn replied.

Iron Monger roared, lifting a car that was just passing by. Glenn's eyes widened. A family was inside a car nearby. He could see the panic etched on their faces as they scream.

He moved.

A sharp blink—then blur.

Shave!

With a speed faster than normal human, Glenn appeared at the car being lifted. One hand yanked open the back door, the other pulling a child from the seatbelt with precise force. He did the same thing towards the driver who was probably the mother and a kid on the passenger seat. He hurriedly used shave to get away while Iron Longer is busy with his villain speech. In less than ten seconds, all four family members were safely behind a concrete divider.

The the giant metal hurled car towards Tony but the latter dodged. The car gets past him and crashed into a another abandoned car before exploding.

Glenn appeared behind the family again, his coat fluttering. "Next time, book an Uber. Trust me."

He vanished once more, reappearing behind a scorched bus stop where he resumed his snide commentary.

Iron Man and Iron Monger were now battling mid-air, sparks flying as their boosters clashed. They collided with a traffic light and brought down the grid power of an entire block.

Glenn flinched. "Smooth. Who needs electricity in a city, right?"

"Maybe give me a little credit here, Glenn," Tony grunted through the suit. "Kinda trying to stop the homicidal steel gorilla."

"Yeah? Well try doing it without demolishing the DMV."

Another blast from Iron Monger sent Iron Man spiraling into vehicles and a motorcycle before slamming towards the facade of a building.

Glenn's eyes darted again—an elderly man on a bench, staring in terror.

Shave.

He reappeared beside the man, lifting him under the arm and vanishing again just before a flaming motorcycle slammed into the bench.

This pattern repeated. For every exchange of destruction between the two armored titans, Glenn was there—moving faster than any human should, redirecting fate like a scalpel.

People didn't die. Not on his watch.

He wasn't the one in the spotlight. But he was the one keeping the world from falling apart around the fight.

--

The sky burned above the industrial block where Iron Monger rampaged. Sparks lit the dusk like a broken fireworks display. Helicopters circled from afar, broadcasting chaos with panicked commentary. Below them, two men—one in a cutting-edge suit of weaponized technology, the other in a black suit and red tie with a cigarette in his mouth—kept their commentary equally explosive.

Tony Stark, locked in combat with Obadiah Stane's stolen monstrosity, grunted as his repulsors lit up the air.

"I've gotta say," Tony muttered tensely into his comms, narrowly dodging a flying car door. "Kind of in the middle of something here, Glenn."

From a rooftop across the street, Glenn flicked ash off his cigarette, watching like a man enjoying a gladiator match with a front-row seat. "And yet you sound like you're five seconds from therapy. What's wrong, Tony? Not used to fighting someone without a stock portfolio?"

Tony grunted as Iron Monger clipped his side with a wild swing. "Little busy trying not to die, thanks."

"Don't worry, buddy. You're doing fine. Real graceful. Like a drunk swan trying to do parkour."

"Glad you're enjoying yourself," Tony huffed, blasting upward in a spiral to gain air. "Maybe next time I'll schedule a fight at your convenience."

Glenn exhaled a plume of smoke. "You could've at least dressed him better. That suit looks like a trash compactor made love to a lawnmower."

Tony groaned through the comms. "Do you ever take a break?"

"Not when there's this much comedy gold in front of me. Stane's out here acting like he's in an '80s villain audition. All he needs is a white cat and a terrible accent."

Iron Monger hurled a chunk of rooftop masonry. Tony barely dodged it.

Glenn continued, "Obadiah must've built that thing with crayons and spite. I've seen cosplay at Comic-Con with more finesse. Should've looked like gundam."

Tony fired a repulsor that glanced off Iron Monger's shoulder. "This isn't exactly the best time, Glenn!"

"And yet, here I am. Providing morale support. Call it emotional damage insurance."

Iron Monger roared and launched himself at Tony, knocking him through a billboard.

"Wow," Glenn quipped. "Didn't know Stark Industries had a demolition division. Or is this your mid-life crisis hitting third gear?"

Tony coughed through static. "If I die here, I'm coming back to haunt you. I mean that."

"I'd love that. Finally, someone in this city with consistent sarcasm from beyond the grave. Can't wait how you'll squeeze your ephitet "genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist" all together on your gravestone.

Iron Monger began ripping apart a power generator, sparks flying.

"Hey, Stane!" Glenn shouted across the block. "You're not scary, you're just loud. Like a blender full of rocks. Is that all you've got? C'mon fight harder. Don't just growl there like someone's jerking you off."

With a mechanical snarl, Iron Monger's head snapped toward Glenn's rooftop. Clearly irritated by the barrage of insults, Stane ripped a chunk of reinforced concrete from a wall and hurled it with frightening velocity toward Glenn's position.

The projectile shattered through the air like a meteor.

Glenn didn't flinch. He casually took one slow step to the side—just enough for the concrete slab to slam down harmlessly next to him, crushing a utility box. Dust and debris shot up.

He glanced at the destroyed corner, then back toward Iron Monger.

"Geez, temper," he said, unfazed, flicking his cigarette into the crumbling crater. " I sensed your blood pressure spiking, Stane! You throw like you code—sloppy and outdated. Don't be too angry or you'll die from heart attack before Tony kill you."

Tony, panting from the blast radius of the last hit, groaned again. "Can't believe I'm getting my ass kicked while you get heckled like it's stand-up night."

Glenn tilted his head. "The difference is, I know my audience. Stane's too dumb to duck."

Tony soared into the night again, circling.

"Any chance you wanna tag in?"

"Sorry, buddy. I'm union. Only signed on for 'prevent-a-death' duty. No mech wrestling."

"Remind me to renegotiate our contract qafter this."

Glenn smirked. "Assuming you're not Iron Paste by then."

As the battle escalated toward the industrial rooftop, Glenn jogged quietly behind the ruins, always watching.

Always ready.

--

The rooftop cracked under Glenn's boots as he shifted to a more comfortable lean against a scorched railing, his cigarette smoldering gently. Down below, chaos was still king—Tony and Iron Monger clashed like titans in a warzone-turned-ring, trading blows that thundered across the concrete jungle.

The roar of repulsors echoed across the industrial district. Fire raged beneath them. Car alarms blared. Helicopters circled nervously, cameras struggling to capture anything beyond light flares and blurred motion.

Then a ripple in space shimmered open behind Glenn.

Illyana stepped through the portal, her golden hair catching the firelight as she walked across the rooftop with unhurried grace. In one hand, she held a large bag of buttered popcorn, its logo clearly visible from a cinema chain several cities away.

With her was Agent Phil Coulson, still adjusting to the absurdity of his company. He looked out over the ledge, saw the chaos, and instinctively reached for his earpiece.

Glenn lifted a gloved hand, halting him without turning.

"Not now, Coulson," Glenn said calmly. "No questions. Not yet."

Coulson frowned. "But Stark's engaged. This is SHIELD jurisdiction—"

"And this," Glenn interrupted, gesturing toward the ironclad melee below, "is art in motion. Let the artist finish the painting before you critique the brushwork."

Illyana sat on a concrete pipe and crossed her legs, munching a piece of popcorn. "He's right. The choreography is decent. The lighting's a bit much though."

Glenn chuckled, then tapped a small device in his palm. "Stark, you're still broadcasting on the open comms, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Tony's voice crackled in response, breathless, strained. "You're really gonna spectate now? This guy's trying to punch my spine into space."

Glenn grinned and turned to Illyana. "Channel's open. Now you can enjoy the banter and the explosions."

Coulson, curious despite himself, subtly adjusted his comm and synced in.

Down in the heart of the fray, Tony soared over a crumbling warehouse, pulling Iron Monger behind him in a tail of blue flame and wreckage.

"Tony," Glenn said smoothly, "you sure you're not just stalling until your ego charges back up?"

"I swear," Tony huffed, "if I make it through this, I'm revoking your sarcasm license."

Illyana tossed another piece of popcorn in her mouth. "Let him fight. You're more entertaining when you're losing, Stark."

"Gee, thanks," Tony growled.

Iron Monger launched another missile. Tony banked left hard, letting it slam into a water tower that erupted in a geyser of steam.

"Getting real tired of this clunky Frankenstein," Tony muttered.

Glenn tilted his head. "Then fly, birdman. Show him what money and trauma can really do."

Tony grimaced inside the HUD. "Alright. Let's take this higher."

With a sudden surge, he shot upward into the night sky. His repulsors screamed as he climbed fast, the Iron Monger roaring after him with brute propulsion.

The stars above began to shimmer into view.

Illyana leaned forward, eyes reflecting the ascent. "Where's he going?"

Coulson frowned. "Altitude's increasing rapidly... Is he luring him into thinner air?"

"Better," Glenn replied, popping a pop corn in his mouth. "He's playing science teacher."

Up in the thinning atmosphere, Tony's HUD started blinking warnings. His breath grew ragged.

"You still with me, Stane?" he panted.

Behind him, Iron Monger struggled to maintain altitude, his massive suit not designed for such thin oxygen and low temperatures.

"I should thank you, Tony!" Stane's voice crackled. "This tech will change the world!"

"Yeah, sure," Tony said, teeth gritted. "One freezing malfunction at a time."

He twisted mid-air and looked back. "Tell me, Stane. Did you solve the icing problem?"

Iron Monger jerked slightly.

"What icing—?"

His suit convulsed.

Glenn, watching from below munching. Though he could only see them in a speck of light. The moment light flickered and died, he knew already what happened.

"And now… Science."

Stane's boosters sputtered. The frost gathered across the limbs. Joints locked. Warning sirens blared inside the Iron Monger's cockpit.

Then gravity reclaimed its due.

Iron Monger plummeted.

Tony hovered for a heartbeat, catching his breath. "Still got it."

Illyana clapped slowly. "That was dramatic."

"Tony-level dramatic," Glenn added. "Which means overdone but effective."

Coulson tapped his comm. "We've got visual. Stane's down. I repeat, Obadiah Stane is down."

But no one moved just yet.

Because the real finale was still to come.