Batman’s Son in Marvel

Killian's plan wasn't entirely wrong.

In the hands of a professional sniper, a high-powered rifle could hit a target over two thousand meters away.

But the man floating above him wasn't just any target.

Adam Wayne's steel armor moved at blistering speeds, darting through the sky like a streak of light. The snipers on the tanker couldn't keep up, their bullets missing wildly.

"Adam Wayne!" Killian shouted, his voice echoing across the deck. "What the hell is this? Are you just here to fly around and waste my time? Or are you too scared to fight me?"

Adam's voice came through the loudspeakers, booming over the tanker.

"Sorry, I'm still just a kid," Adam said mockingly. "I don't know how to fight. I just like hovering in the sky. What are you going to do about it?"

Killian's face twisted in fury.

"A kid?" Killian spat. "You expect me to believe that?"

No kid would have massacred dozens of terrorists without hesitation. No kid would build an army of deadly machines.

Killian's mind raced, his anger boiling over.

"Bring out the Stinger missiles!" he snapped.

Two black-clad soldiers rushed into the ship's hold.

Overhead, Adam's eyes narrowed. He'd been monitoring their radio chatter through Skynet, and when he heard the word "Stinger," his expression darkened.

"Fucking arms dealers," Adam muttered.

Those missiles were designed to shoot down helicopters and aircraft—short-range, heat-seeking, and deadly accurate.

The fact that Killian had managed to get his hands on military-grade equipment didn't surprise Adam in the slightest.

"Of course you'd have Stingers," Adam growled. "Goddamn American arms dealers will sell anything to anyone."

Before the launchers could be brought to the deck, Adam dove straight into the ocean, disappearing beneath the waves.

Killian's soldiers hesitated.

"Did he just run away?"

"No, he's hiding. Watch the water!"

Minutes passed, and tension grew.

Then, with a sudden burst of white foam, Adam shot back into the air.

"You really thought that would work?" he taunted, circling the tanker like a predator.

Killian scowled and waved his men forward.

"Fire the missiles!"

Two Stinger missiles roared into the air, heat-seekers locked onto Adam's armor.

But before the missiles could close in, two other suits of armor appeared beside Adam, intercepting them mid-flight.

Explosions rocked the sky, but when the smoke cleared, Adam remained untouched.

"You're going to have to try harder than that," Adam said coldly, his voice echoing from the speakers.

Killian's face contorted in rage.

Flames erupted across Killian's skin, glowing orange like molten metal beneath his flesh. The heat burned through his clothes, leaving him shirtless and smoldering.

Behind him, several more figures stepped out of the cabin—men and women with the same fiery glow rippling under their skin.

"Look at me, Wayne," Killian snarled. "You think your toys make you powerful? This is the future! Flesh and blood are humanity's greatest weapons!"

Adam arched an eyebrow.

"Can you fly?"

The question hit Killian like a slap, and his fury exploded.

"Kill him! Fire everything!"

More missiles launched toward Adam, only to be intercepted by the two suits guarding him.

"Why do this to yourself, Killian?" Adam called out. "You can't even touch me. Surrender, and maybe I'll let you live."

"Go to hell!" Killian shouted, ordering his men to keep firing.

Adam sighed.

"Fine. Let's finish this."

He raised a hand, and the waters around the tanker began to bubble.

One by one, hundreds of steel-armored suits emerged from the sea, rising into the air like a swarm of mechanical angels.

Two thousand sets of glowing eyes turned toward the tanker, their weapons locking onto Killian and his men.

The deck fell silent.

Killian froze. The flames under his skin flickered.

For the first time, fear crossed his face.

"Last chance," Adam said. "Surrender now, and I might let you live long enough to explain who's backing you."

Killian hesitated.

He knew this wasn't a fight he could win, but the people funding him—he feared them even more than Adam.

"I—"

"Too late," Adam interrupted.

"Fire."

The night lit up with blue light as two thousand plasma beams rained down on the tanker.

The explosion was blinding, and the heat that followed was enough to send waves rippling outward in every direction.

When the smoke cleared, the upper deck of the tanker was reduced to a smoldering ruin.

"Skynet, scan for survivors."

"Four life signals detected."

Adam's eyes narrowed.

Killian's body, half-charred and glowing like molten lava, lay sprawled on the deck. Despite the damage, he was still alive.

"Extremis really is something," Adam muttered.

"It's a shame it turns people into walking bombs."

He raised his hand, and the suits released streams of dry ice, quickly smothering the remaining fires.

As the smoke cleared, Adam surveyed the damage. The deck was covered in craters and molten steel, but the tanker itself remained intact—reinforced, no doubt.

Adam stepped closer to Killian's broken form.

"You don't look so good, Killian," Adam said coldly. "Ready to talk yet? Or do I need to bury you for good?"

Killian didn't answer. His glowing skin flickered weakly, but the rage in his eyes hadn't dimmed.

Adam's face hardened.

This wasn't over yet.

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