NOVEL WEB Chapter 14: Chapter 14: "Iron Traps and Armored Heat" (Revised)
The wrecked apartment faded into stillness, Thanos' rift a bruised memory in the sky, Nebula's wired heat still a flicker under his skin. Her voice—"Thanos won't rest. Neither will I"—hung like a blade as he spun the Mask in his hand, its grin catching the static glow of a shattered TV. That raspy whisper snaked through his thoughts, edged with glee: "Thirteen queens, kid. Nebula's sparking with your chaos now. Ready to tangle with the brain trust?" He smirked, sliding it on, green light exploding as the zoot suit flared to life, a brash shout in the gloom. "Time to outwit the whiz kids," he murmured, kicking aside splintered debris toward the street.
A sharp whine pierced the night—mechanical, cutting—and a red-gold streak slammed down, asphalt cracking under thrusters. Iron Man straightened, Tony Stark's voice slicing through the suit: "Well, well, chaos gremlin—Reed's been losing sleep over your reality-bending circus. Sue's intel says you're a walking glitch. Time to box you up." Reed Richards uncoiled from a sleek Fantasticar, limbs stretching as scanners flickered, Johnny's flames licking the air, Ben a stony wall behind them.
The Mask laughed in his head: "Tin man's here, kid. Let's short-circuit him." "Tony Stark?" he fired back, stretching an arm to twist a fire hydrant into a spiral, water jetting wild. "Genius with the glow? I'm Masquerade—chaos is my gig. Bit late to crash this party!" The charisma surged, a defiant ripple, but Tony's HUD chirped, unimpressed, and Reed's voice cut in, cool as steel: "Your energy defies containment—erratic, alive. We've got a field to lock it down."
Tony unleashed repulsors—blue lances searing the air—and he bent, fluid as ink, conjuring a vortex of spinning gears to deflect them, metal screeching as it scattered. Reed's Fantasticar wobbled under the assault, his stretchy grip steadying it, while Johnny flared up—he countered with a gust of green wind, snuffing the flames. Ben lunged, a rocky fist whistling, but he sidestepped, stretching thin, sending the Thing stumbling into a wall with a grunt. "Lock this down!" he laughed, the street pulsing with their clash.
A sleeker figure dropped in—red-gold armor, glowing with quiet power. Pepper Potts, Rescue, touched down, her voice crisp through the visor: "Tony, he's not just chaos—he's… magnetic. Reed, your numbers don't add up." Her scanners hummed, locking on him, a flicker of intrigue softening her stance.
The Mask purred: "She's a live wire, kid. Snag her." "Pepper Potts?" he said, voice low and hungry, dodging a repulsor with a stretch. "Rescue with the shine? I'm Masquerade—chaos has a heartbeat." Her visor tilted, caught by the pull, and the Mask intensified it, tendrils syncing with her tech. "You're a loose cannon," she murmured, stepping closer, "but it's… electric." Her repulsors dimmed, a spark bridging their chaos.
Tony barked, "Pep, don't buy the act!" Reed triggered a device—energy fields snapping tight, a cage of light—but he snatched Pepper, stretching through a wall into an alley as the trap sealed empty air. "Fly with me, steel heart," he grinned, charisma crashing into her. Her suit flickered, powering down a notch. "You're a damn fool," she said, voice caught between duty and heat, as Tony's thrusters roared behind them.
The alley spilled into a cluttered workshop—grease-stained tools, a skeletal car frame, the city's drone a faint pulse. Pepper slammed him against a workbench, armored hands tearing his suit with a hiss of hydraulics. "You're a walking hazard," she growled, but her lips found his, a fierce jolt of warmth and steel, tasting of circuits and courage. His shirt ripped under her gauntlets, and he pried at her armor, panels retracting to bare pale skin laced with tech scars—sleek, alive with power. Her breath hitched as his hands traced her—over metal seams, sinking into flesh—fingers gripping her wired heat.
"Hazards ignite," he growled, lifting her. Her legs locked around him, thighs humming with servo strength, and they crashed onto the car frame—metal buckling with a groan. Her suit shed fully, retracting into gauntlets, and he stripped her bare—circuits gleamed under skin, a fusion of soft and hard. His mouth roamed—neck, chest, the edge where steel kissed flesh—coaxing a moan, sharp and electric, her systems buzzing louder. When he entered her—slow, then fierce—her cry crackled, repulsors flaring, scorching the ceiling.
The Mask blazed, amplifying every pulse—the searing heat of her core, the tremor of her gasps, the grinding rhythm as she matched him, relentless and powered. The workshop warped—tools spinning, lights strobing—as she rode him, hair wild, eyes glowing gold through the visor's ghost. Her climax surged like a reactor breach, energy rippling, rattling the walls, and he spilled into her, a flood that made the Mask howl, green sparks weaving with her tech glow. A seed took root, chaos and armor fused, and they collapsed, slick with sweat, her weight a humming anchor atop him.
Pepper's fingers brushed a scar, her smirk a faint flicker of warmth beneath the retracting helm. "You're a live wire, Masquerade. Too wild for Tony's grid." "Wires need a jolt," he grinned, feeling her pulse under steel. She rose, armor snapping shut, her glance a blend of warning and want. "They'll pin you down. I might not let them." She blasted through a skylight, leaving him with the Mask, its voice a smug hum: "Fourteen down, kid. The machine's sparking."
He stood, the workshop a chaos of scorched metal and scattered tools, Tony and Reed's pursuit a fading hum. Pepper's fire, Nebula's steel, Psylocke's edge, Kitty's phase, Emma's mind, Sue's shield, Gamora's blade, Rogue's touch, Carol's radiance, Mystique's fluidity, Storm's storm, Jean's fire, Wanda's magic, Natasha's steel—the world quaked under his chaos. Thanos loomed, SHIELD hunted, and the X-Men circled. He slid the Mask back on, grin razor-sharp. "Let's melt the circuits."