ACT II
Engines of War
“Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves.”
—Abraham Lincoln
Demons come in all shapes and sizes.
Who created them? God? The people? The world’s own sinful nature? Whoever did, it didn’t matter. The real dangers come from the creation itself, and the impact it can have on others. It’s not about what kind of impact, it’s all about the size and power it’ll have. For many, they deserve responsibility for their demons, for having unleashed them upon the world.
For Tony Stark, one could only run away so far.
Most of his life he had spent running from responsibility, from pain, from true torment. He tried to shake it off, tell someone off in a snarky way, throw a party, buy a huge, stuffed rabbit, all just to hide his pain. He knew he couldn’t run forever, or hide for that matter. His suits only protected him so much, but even then they could be shattered by enough force.
Maybe that force finally showed itself as Ultron. Maybe now he couldn’t keep running and hiding. But he sure as hell could try. He had another life to protect.
As his thrusters finally died several hundred feet above the Everfree Forest, Stark gazed down at the forest below, spotting the ruins of a nearby castle. With the baby dragon clutched on his backside, Tony tightened his jaw and aimed precisely for the castle. He fell straight, aiming himself just like a torpedo.
He spiraled out of control right away.
“Tony!” Spike cried, dangling helplessly from Stark’s back. “H-help! I’m…I’m slip—!”
In this midst of his fall, Tony reared back with his right palm and snatched Spike’s tail. Yanking him forward, Stark brought the young dragon to his chest, planting his back directly downwards. Spike looked up, straight into the piercing, blue gaze that the Iron Man mask was known for.
“Hold on!” Tony screamed and tightened his grasp across Spike’s back. Spike complied without question, shutting his eyes as tight as he could and gripping onto whatever piece of armor he felt near him.
Stark spun his neck around at the last second, watching as the castle ruins approached closer and closer. He brought his neck forward, held onto Spike tight, and gritted his teeth. The moment of impact was heard only by the sound of crumbling stone and mason, followed shortly by skidding metal against solid concrete.
Spike fumbled in his grasp, but soon was finally able to relax as they finally came to a shuddering halt. Noting how Stark’s arms fell to his sides, Spike pushed himself off of his chest and resulted to a sitting position. He looked around, past memories resurfacing just by a short glance of his surroundings.
Tony had landed in the Castle of the Two Sisters, their throne room to be precise. He looked away from the shattered thrones and torn curtains and onto the man below him, how he slowly rested the back of his head onto the ground, a soft clank echoing.
That sound was quickly drowned out by the ferocious roar of the dragon the two had previously encountered and barely escaped from. Spike shot his neck around, spotting a light source directly above from the hole Tony had created upon his entry into the castle. He stared for several seconds on end, finally returning back to Stark just as the man groaned.
“Alright,” Tony muttered, his head rolling back and forth. “We’re good now. Get up.”
Spike obeyed without a word, but with a simple nod. As the young dragon was off and finally touching ground, Stark reached up and jammed his palm right above his chin, pushing his golden mask upwards to reveal the spent face beneath.
He breathed in, taking in the dusty and filthy air but exhaling as if he had breathed in a bundle of tulips. Spike frowned, stepped forward and asked, “You sure?”
Tony looked his way, turned his eyes to his own chest and nodded.
Spike still didn’t buy it. He crossed his chubby arms and asked, “Alright, so are you gonna tell me what happened now?”
“That’s the plan,” he replied.
“Well…” Spike egged on, a brow rising curiously, his eyes shifting from the dark clouds building outside to the big man in the suit of armor.
Said big man suddenly wasn’t feeling so big as he usually had. The expressions on his face gave Spike plenty of indication of that. They shifted from pain, to worry, to grief, and ended with depression. Tony finally sighed, laying his head back onto the concrete floor.
He stared up into the ceiling, up into the several holes scattered to and fro, and stated as simply as he possibly could…
“We lost.”
Both of Spike’s arms fell to his sides. He remained silent from what Stark could actually manage to hear. Another roar broke through the air from the outside world, echoing throughout the ruins of the castle. Exhaling through chapped lips, he sighed and continued.
“He made it through before we could stop him. The gates…” Stark paused, heard Spike release the smallest of gasps, then moved on. “The gates are gone. Ponyville’ll be taken in ten maybe five minutes tops. They’re heading for Canterlot next, which is why we need to get there first.”
“To do what?”
Tony leaned forward, spotted Spike looking at him curiously, though a tad worriedly. Cringing, Stark propped himself up, resting on his rear as both arms now lay worthlessly on his armored thighs. He shook his head, staring straight ahead at nothing.
“You know…for the first time I don’t really know.” Spike’s eyes softened, a feeling of hopelessness building in his green, reptilian irises. Tony smiled and shook his head again. “I’m kidding. This hasn’t been the first time.”
And then he frowned, his chubby, little arms crossing over one another yet again. Stark ignored it, saying, “You can ask Cap when we meet him up at Canterlot.”
He was preparing to stand back up, but stopped only when Spike spoke again. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough to compel him to halt in his actions. “And what about Ponyville?”
Spike saw the man before him freeze up, as if the weight of the situation had finally compiled and fell upon his shoulders, pushing him back to the ground. Tony’s knees slowly retracted closer to his chest, his arms resting on each armored kneecap. He continued to stare straight forward, even his breaths growing more and more silent.
Spike didn’t stop. He pestered on, each word digging deeper into Stark’s chest. “My home? All of those ponies? You’re just gonna leave them to…die?”
Tony shifted his attention over to his legs, at the scorch marks burnt against his thrusters. He shut his eyes tight, closed his mouth, and said, “Ultron already won. We don’t have much time left.”
“Well, if we already lost, then why come back to save me?”
If it looked like he was caught off guard, many would believe, but he would definitely deny it. Still, Tony looked to the young drake and offered a weak smile. He replied, “I’d rather not have Twilight on my back about how she lost her…” he stopped when he saw the look on the dragon’s face.
He sighed, “Just because we lost…doesn’t mean we have to lose those we care about in the process. If there’s just a smidgen of hope, I’d never turn it away. When life gives you that much…I’d prefer to take it as quickly as possible.”
He stopped, eyes growing wide. Just before he could catch himself, Spike interrupted him.
Spike didn’t waste a second to jump on that, literally. He hopped right in front of the man, standing right in-between his feet. With his claw pointed directly to Stark’s glowing orb, he—surprisingly enough—shouted, “Then we don’t turn away, Tony! You see a smidgen of hope left, then you take it! There are still ponies that need our help, your help!”
His eyes softened once more, his eyes a tad misty. He said, “I know it. You know it.”
Slowly, more and more, Stark found himself believing each word that came out of the dragon’s mouth. He was practically mirroring his own statement, turning it against him, and convincing him otherwise. It was good. That much he could tell the little guy.
However, from past events ranging from New York to Sokovia and now to Equestria—past failures to be precise—words meant little to nothing. What point were words if there was no heart behind it, fueling it, giving what all the lost truly desired? Where was the hope?
When he finally responded, even Stark was slightly surprised to hear himself.
“I’m no hero,” Tony muttered, his gaze falling.
Even then, Spike had a rebuttal. “You don’t have to be. Just because you lost one battle, doesn’t mean you lost the war. You’re still alive, so that’s worth celebrating. We’re still together, right? Your friends…?”
Tony nodded. Spike continued. “My friends! You don’t give up, Tony. Maybe that’s what Ultron wanted to destroy all along, but he didn’t, not yet anyways.”
Now he looked at him. What little light there was shined down upon the young dragon, illuminating him out of the dark that surrounded them both.
“That’s something to believe in, Tony. You can call yourself whatever you want, but a hero is someone who risks their life for others, which is exactly what you’ve been doing ever since I first met you. You may not believe it but we all do.”
Stark’s jaw remained slightly ajar. He hadn’t blinked for the longest time.
Spike continued, his eyes burning. He held out his palm, counting on each claw. “Twilight believes it… I believe it… Everypony does. It’s just a matter of accepting it. Who cares what happened! All that matters is now, and what you do to stop it from ever happening again. Because if you’re not a hero, Tony…you can bet every bit you’re an Avenger.”
He held out his claw to him.
“And we’re with you.”
There it was. Tony shifted his eyes from Spike’s claw, to the little guy’s eyes, and back to the claw. It was a routine that was already older than Steve Rogers, according to Stark. He believed that, he accepted, which is why he could be proud of it and move on. He could move on from his past failures, remember them and learn from them just as easy as he hid them away.
Of course they’ll still be there, bothering him to no end, but it hardly mattered now. Whatever God-given power the young dragon must’ve had to convince Stark otherwise…then he was taking it as an absolute. Whatever happened because of him didn’t matter now. He’ll bear that weight, Stark will, but it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter to Tony because he found it. There it was.
The heart.
And it was almost as prominent as the thunder in the distance.
The two suddenly shifted their eyes upwards to the open ceiling, noticing the dark skies be filled with the power of heaven’s mighty sword, or hammer in this case. Stark slowly grew a smile, standing back up to full height.
“Here comes the cavalry,” he stated proudly, earning the interests of the only other being present. Spike spun around to stare up at him, at his mighty height. Stark clenched both of his fists, the repulsors on his palms glowing fiercely in the darkness.
He asked, “What are you doing?”
“Like you said…” Tony looked down at him, his mask closing and locking in place. His eyes illuminated a bright and very fierce blue. “…Avenge.”
He held out his metal palm to him.
“Come on, Draco,” Stark said, his voice heavier and more robotic due to the mask’s alterations. “We got a war to win.”
Spike slowly began to smile, his eyes turning to Stark’s open palm. Cautiously enough, he placed his claw right in-between his fingers, managing to say, “My name’s Spi-AHHHH!!!”
Of course, he could only manage so much before Stark kicked in the afterburners early. Tony Stark blasted out of the ruins, his gloved hand lighting up with the other holding onto the claw of a screaming dragon.
He spotted Ponyville in the distance, the dark clouds infecting the skies and the demon army flooding the hills. The ponies still crying, still in pain. Still praying for those heroes.
“Avengers, can you hear me?” Stark announced in his comms.
“Loud and clear.”
Barton, Tony thought.
“I read you, Tony.”
Cap.
“Here!”
Thor.
“You got something?”
Natasha.
“Yeah?”
Twins.
“Stark…?”
Vision.
To his left, even when he was flying at high speeds, Tony caught Hulk slamming into the Everfree below him, knocking God knows how many trees aside before he kicked up and flew forward again, straight to Ponyville. His roars were a hell of a lot more terrifying than that dragon’s. Tony smiled.
And Bruce…
“Then head on over to Ponyville. It’s time to show these scumbags what happens when you mess with our friends.”