World Traveler Villain

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{Chapter: 326 Domineering Declaration}

Killian looked up at the sky, his face illuminated by the dim orange glow of fire and steel. He smiled faintly, almost wistfully. "It looks like Tony," he muttered, his voice laced with memory. "I really miss him. Funny, how I'm actually moved to see him again in this place of all places."

A sudden mechanical hum filled the air, and a swarm of Iron Man suits descended from above like steel angels of vengeance. Each suit hovered with silent precision, their eyes glowing, weapons trained and primed. From the center of the formation, Tony Stark's voice boomed out, clear and filled with biting resolve.

"Killian," Tony said coldly from above, "I'm here. Let Pepper go, or I swear—this ends with you in pieces."

Pepper Potts stood frozen below, her wide eyes lifting toward the sound of the voice she hadn't heard in so long. Her breath caught in her throat.

"…Tony…" she whispered, barely audible, a mix of disbelief, guilt, and fear tangled in the single word.

Tony's helmet locked onto her position. "Pepper." His voice softened for a moment, laced with emotion. "I'm here. No one's going to hurt you. Not anymore."

Killian chuckled, a cruel edge in his tone. "Still the knight in red and gold, huh?" he said, glancing up at the floating suits. "You show up, guns blazing, same old Tony. But this time… you're not the only one gunning for me."

Tony narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Killian slowly turned his head, his gaze drifting to the far end of the ruined ship's deck.

Tony followed that line of sight—and his expression changed instantly. His eyes widened, the color draining from his face behind the helmet.

"…William," Tony muttered, his voice dropping into a snarl.

A figure stepped forward from the shadows—calm, composed, and smiling like he had all the time in the world.

"Hello, Tony," William said, tilting his head. "Looks like fate's dragged us all here again."

"You son of a—" Tony gritted his teeth. "I'll cut you into pieces myself."

William gave a soft laugh. "You seem healthy. I see the arm I took from you in New York grew back nicely."

Tony's body stiffened slightly. That battle had left him broken, humbled. "The Lord repaired it," he snapped. "You don't know the kind of power we're dealing with. William, if the Lord wanted you dead, it would've happened already. He's just having fun."

William raised an eyebrow, his tone mockingly impressed. "Wow. That's quite the story. I almost believed it—you're good at sounding important, Tony."

Tony shouted, "Jarvis!"

One of the Iron Man suits broke formation, diving toward William with high-velocity thrusters. It launched a series of micro-missiles, each one locking on with deadly precision.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

The sound of dozens of warheads cutting through the air filled the sky.

William didn't flinch.

One by one, the missiles stopped mid-flight—suspended a meter from him as if frozen in time.

William sighed and shook his head. "Really? You think this is going to work? These toys again?"

The Iron Man suit raised its arms and fired dual repulsor beams—blazing columns of blue-white energy surged toward William.

He extended his hand.

The beams stopped inches from his skin, twisted in the air, and surged backward with double the force, slamming into the Iron Man suit.

A brilliant explosion burst in midair. Metal and flame erupted across the sky—but when the smoke cleared, the Iron Man suit was still intact, hovering, its armor glowing red-hot but undamaged.

Tony's voice came again, laced with grim satisfaction. "It's not the same as last time, William. These suits aren't just metal shells anymore."

William looked up, nodding with a small smile. "I noticed. Your iron skin really has gotten stronger."

With a subtle flick of his wrist, all the hovering micro-missiles that had stopped near him suddenly reversed direction. In perfect synchronization, they hurled back toward their origin.

A blinding series of explosions lit the sky.

Fire roared across the deck. Pepper ducked behind a half-melted support beam, shielding herself from the shockwave. Even from a distance, she could feel the heat on her skin.

As the smoke thinned, the Iron Man suits were still floating—battered and scorched, but largely undamaged.

"Not bad," William admitted. "It's definitely impressive. But don't forget… I didn't create those explosions. That was all you."

He pointed a single finger toward the air.

"Missiles. Beams. All your tech. I just bounced it back. I haven't even touched you yet."

Tony hovered in silence for a moment, the glow from his chest piece pulsing. Then he shouted down, "You think that makes you better? Go ahead—try to crack my armor!"

William slowly stepped forward, his boots crunching on the fractured metal of the deck. His voice was calm, casual—too calm.

"Alright then, Tony. Let's put your armor to the test," he said, spreading his arms wide. "Let's see if tin can stand against something that doesn't care about the rules you play by."

As energy began to swirl faintly around William, Pepper remained crouched in the shadows, trembling—not with fear of William, but with fear of her own heart.

She hadn't acknowledged him. Hadn't called out. Not even a whisper.

Because deep down, some part of her remembered what it felt like to stand beside William. That dangerous pull—the way he made her feel like the world was burning, and she was the flame.

She kept her eyes down, as if afraid that if she looked—if she saw him too clearly—she might fall too far to climb back.

William vanished in a blur of black smoke, reappearing an instant later directly in front of one of Tony's airborne suits. Before the artificial intelligence inside could react, William's fist shot forward like a bullet.

CRACK!

His fist tore through the arc reactor embedded in the suit's chest, bursting through the back plating with a screech of ripping metal.

Zzzzzz—KRAK!

The suit spasmed violently, electrical arcs flashing like miniature storms across its surface. With a final hiss of dying energy, the high-tech armor collapsed mid-air—its joints locking up, plating curling, and systems frying. It crumbled like tin foil and dropped toward the ocean in a spray of sparks and twisted metal.

Tony's jaw clenched in disbelief. "That's... not possible. That suit was reinforced ten times over. Composite vibranium alloy. It wasn't supposed to break—"

William smirked, casually brushing dust off his knuckles. "Maybe it was just poorly made. Don't worry, you've still got a lot of these tin toys."

Tony glanced sideways at the fleet of remaining suits hovering at his flank. They gleamed in the moonlight, weapons armed, energy humming.

His confidence slowly returned. "Yeah. I've got more than enough to turn you into ash, William."

Killian chuckled darkly, folding his arms as he stepped forward. "Tony, you really are nothing like Mr. William. You throw machines at your problems. He is the problem."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "It won't be a problem putting you down. You've always been a second-rate Bond villain with bad skin and worse ideas."

Killian's face twitched with old resentment. "Still hiding behind sarcasm. Do you even remember the night I waited on that rooftop, begging for five minutes of your time? Thirteen years ago. You never showed."

Tony scoffed, unapologetic. "I don't even remember what I had for lunch last Tuesday. What makes you think I'd remember some sad loser trying to pitch me an idea next to a garbage chute?"

Killian's grin widened—there was no amusement in it. "Then allow me to remind you."

He turned to William with mock courtesy. "Mr. William, about the deal I mentioned before. Have you given it more thought?"

William's gaze turned icy. "Thought? You think I'd consider being chained like a dog to a clown like you? Even if God Himself came down to destroy me, I'd rip His wings off and burn the sky."

He raised his hand slowly, finger pointed directly at Killian like the barrel of a loaded gun. "You just stepped over the line. I declare you no longer amusing—you're just another corpse waiting to happen."

Killian's expression darkened. "So there's truly no chance for cooperation?"

"Cooperation?" William's voice dropped, laced with scorn. "I don't keep disloyal mutts at my side. I break them."

Killian started to laugh. The sound echoed off the steel hull of the ship. "Well, Pepper, looks like the man you fancy doesn't care whether you live or die."

Pepper flinched—but just slightly. Her expression didn't change much, but she averted her eyes. She spoke with cold indifference, yet her tone betrayed tension beneath the surface.

"I don't care what happens. My life has nothing to do with him. Don't make up stories—I hate that guy."

She didn't look at William. She didn't look at Tony. She just stared into the sea, as if she were trying to convince herself she meant what she said. Her heart twisted in ways she couldn't explain—and wouldn't allow herself to.

Tony clenched his fists, voice rising with anger. "Killian, shut your mouth! Pepper doesn't have feelings for that psycho. That's absurd."

Killian's eyes gleamed. "Oh, Tony, you poor genius. You really don't know, do you? You think you're the hero in this story. But even your Pepper… she's caught between love and hate for William. It's written all over her face."

Tony looked at Pepper, chest tightening. "Pepper... Tell me that's not true."

Pepper didn't answer. Her mouth opened slightly—but no sound came. Her hands were clenched, nails digging into her palms. She didn't look at Tony. She didn't look at anyone.

William's voice rang out like a thunderclap, cutting through the moment.

"You don't need her to speak," he said coolly. "Ask me, Tony. I'll tell you what you want to know."

He turned, eyes burning with certainty. "Pepper is mine. From beginning to end, no one else touches her. Anyone who tries—dies. That's the law."

His voice was quiet, but final. The kind of quiet that made people afraid to breathe. The kind of quiet that told everyone that yes, this man could kill gods.

Pepper's breath caught in her throat, and she turned away again, her chest tightening. A tiny part of her—a dangerous part—was afraid that if she looked into William's eyes for even a second longer, she would fall completely… and never come back up.

Pepper didn't respond. Not a single word.

But her knuckles were white.

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