Three thugs, a Wolverine, and an Iron Girl

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"Hey, old man!" yelled a thug, kicking me in the side. His black hoodie made him hard to see, especially with the amount of vodka I'd just downed. The bottle, still in my hand, clattered to the ground and broke.

"What?" I barked.

"Hand over your wallet and you'll live to see tomorrow!"

"Kid, leave me alone."

"I don't think so," the thug aimed a gun at my forehead, and his friends unsheathed knives. My claws ripped through my skin as my forehead burned with pain. I stumbled backwards, but stayed on my feet. I waited a second, then a bullet popped out from between my eyes with a spurt of blood.

"What?" the thug leader gibbered. With a growl, I lunged forward and his stomach erupted into a crimson stain of blood. Another thug jabbed a knife into the base of my skull. I staggered around and sliced through his ribcage. The third thug ran off down the dirty alleyway, stumbling over trash bags. His friends staggered to their feet and limped after him.

"Hey, you!" there was a girl. Her dark skin and black hair made her hard to see in the dark alleyway. She had her hands clasped underneath her blue backpack. I smelled something, but the scent of trash, alcohol, cigarette smoke, and now blood can be overpowering.

"What do you want?"

"You're Logan, right? The Wolverine?"

"Look, kid, just go home. You don't want to be involved in my mess."

"That's where you're wrong. You're coming with me," she took her hands out from behind her back and I realized what I was smelling. Her hands were cradled in red and gold gauntlets with glowing blue palms pointed at me. I could hear the whine of those repulsors charging up. This is going to hurt, I thought.

"Look, I'm not going with you. I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to get along in life. I'm done being a hero," I said.

"Wow. Okay then. Most people are afraid of these, but have it your way." The repulsors fired, and it hurt. A lot Then I blacked out.

"Rise and shine," the girl said. Spots flashed into existence in front of my eyes from the harsh light, but I blinked them away. I was in a plane, a quinjet sitting in one of the seats in the cabin. I'd hoped to never be in one of these planes ever again. The girl was wearing Iron Man armor without the helmet.

"Who are you?" I said, still feeling the affects of drinking most f a

"Why should I tell you?"

"You wanted to meet with me. I deserve to know."

"Fine. You can call me Riri. Or you can call me Ironheart."

"What did I do to merit a visit from Ironheart?"

"I need backup. There's a bad guy, calls himself Lightsout. He creates emps that my suit can't handle. I can't fight him on my own. You're practically indestructible "

"I'll get him. Where is he?"

"I don't know. As soon as I do we'll get him. He has a gang, but they can't be that hard to beat."

"You're not going anywhere. You're what? Twelve? I've handled worse. I'll do this alone," Wolverine said. Riri's mouth opened into a snarl.

"Hey, I'm fifteen. I can handle myself," she snapped.

"No. You're going to tell me where they are, what you want me to do with Lightsout, and then we're going our own separate ways," I walked away from her to the back of the cabin and sat down. I had put enough people at risk, I wasn't going to lose some girl because she thought that all it took to be Iron Man was a suit.

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