Chapter 181: The Real Murderer

The chaotic battle at Leipzig Halle Airport had finally come to an end. Amidst the wreckage, Hulk had proven a formidable opponent, demolishing significant parts of Tony's Anti-Hulk armor. However, the armor's ability to self-repair and replenish materials gave it an undeniable advantage, keeping it in peak condition no matter the damage.

Realizing he couldn't win, Hulk improvised. He ripped a massive steel pillar from the surrounding infrastructure and used it to pin the armor to the ground. As the armor worked to free itself, Hulk didn't waste a second. With an almost comical turn, he sprinted away, his massive strides carrying him out of sight.

Tony stood in the aftermath, his face a mixture of disbelief and anger. "Are you kidding me? Did Hulk just… run away?"

Even Vision, watching from the sidelines, tilted his head curiously. "It would appear so."

In a medical center not far from the battlefield, Tony's mood darkened further as he stood with a doctor reviewing the extent of Rhodey's injuries.

"Mr. Stark," the doctor began cautiously, "after a preliminary examination, we've determined that Mr. Rhodes has suffered multiple vertebral fractures, from his thoracic spine down to his lumbar region. His spinal cord is severely damaged. It's likely he will face permanent paralysis. We'll do everything we can, but… you should be prepared."

Tony's jaw tightened, and a muscle in his cheek twitched. He knew what this meant—he didn't need the doctor to sugarcoat it. His mind raced, grasping for a solution. Finally, a memory surfaced, and he pulled out his phone.

The line connected quickly. "Hi, is this Doctor Strange?" Tony asked.

Miles away, speeding along a highway in his sleek sports car, Stephen Strange answered the call. "Tony Stark," he said, switching to speakerphone. "To what do I owe this honor?"

"The spinal cord," Tony replied without preamble. "It's severely torn, with comminuted vertebral fractures. Can it be fixed?"

Strange raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I could fix it," he said, his tone casual, "though I was hoping for something more challenging. But since it's you, Tony, I'll take the case."

Tony exhaled, relief washing over him. "I'll send you the scans right away."

As Strange glanced at the incoming images, he muttered under his breath. "Wow. This guy didn't just fall; he crash-landed. Did someone throw him off a building? Or was it one of your suits?"

Before he could dwell further, a car swerved out of control, forcing him to pull hard on the wheel to avoid a collision. "Tony, I'll call you back," he said, ending the call abruptly.

Back at the medical center, Tony felt a glimmer of hope. Strange's track record was impeccable, if unconventional. Tony owed Thor for recommending him all those years ago, back when Strange had removed the shrapnel from Tony's chest. Despite Strange's prickly personality, his skills were unmatched.

Suddenly, something clicked in Tony's mind. "Friday," he called, "search for recent news or activity related to Thor."

A moment later, Friday's calm, synthetic voice responded. "At 10:35 this morning, New York time, the FBI summoned Mr. Thor Odinson to their New York branch. He was brought in to assist with an investigation regarding the shooting of illegal intruders at Trudheim Manor. However, surveillance footage shows he disappeared from the interrogation room shortly thereafter."

Tony frowned deeply. "Disappeared? That's not like him."

Vision stepped closer, adding his own observation. "Interestingly, the footage from inside the FBI building doesn't appear to be secure. It seems almost deliberately broadcast, as though meant to be seen."

Realization dawned on Tony, and his expression soured. "Of course," he muttered. "He's creating an alibi. He's orchestrating something and using this investigation as cover."

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Mr. Stark," a staff member announced, "Dr. Banner is here to see you."

Elsewhere, T'Challa paced furiously as he dialed his sister, Shuri. When the call connected, his voice was sharp and controlled, but the anger was evident.

"Shuri, do you know why Banner would leave Wakanda so suddenly? He interrupted a critical operation."

Shuri's voice came through, calm but curious. "I don't know. He took a call and left in a hurry."

"What call? From whom?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It was an American number."

Frustrated, T'Challa ended the call. Banner's bizarre behavior and the timing of his actions didn't sit right with him. The Black Panther's sharp instincts told him there was more to this than met the eye.

His musings were interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Looking up, he saw Bruce Banner standing in the doorway, looking unusually calm.

"I apologize, Your Highness," Banner began, his voice steady. "I didn't have time to explain earlier. But I believe it's time you saw the truth."

T'Challa's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what you've done? Your actions have jeopardized—"

"I freed the Winter Soldier," Banner interrupted. His calm words were met with a sharp intake of breath. "Because he was innocent."

Reaching into his pocket, Banner pulled out his phone and handed it to T'Challa. "I was waiting for the right moment to show you this. The Berlin police just sent this over."

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