Detroit, 2077, Earth-21109.

Murphy scanned the mission area: “Threat assessment: High.” Three targets. Two of the hulking mechs had already dropped to the ground, their hydraulics whining in protest. The third was recklessly descending from the massive cargo plane, fast. Before it could join the fray, Murphy was on it—his recent upgrades kicked in, and he closed the distance midair.

Missile launch! The gleaming projectile sped forward like a starved predator, jinking wildly to avoid return fire before slamming into the diving mech’s chest. Fiery shrapnel rained down.

No time to celebrate as Murphy’s HUD lit up like Times Square. Sirens blared, civilians scattered like ants, and two angry mechs were stomping through the street, their barrels now pointed skyward—at him. He fired off another missile, but not before the unmanned mechs unleashed their arsenal, swatting him out of the night sky. He spiraled toward the pavement, landing hard. A sickening crunch echoed in his digital ears.

Murphy, known to most as RoboCop, was tasked with protecting Omni Consumer Products’ flagship hotel, where a VIP was speaking about a new energy source. He realized the mission was in jeopardy as his HUD flashed a warning: 61% efficiency. His upgrades—jetpack, smart missile launcher—were now just paper weights. But his second shot had hit its mark.

Two down, one to go.

The remaining mech lumbered toward him. It was clearly damaged after its neighbor’s projectile-induced light show, but still dangerous as it leveled its machine gun at Murphy.

Concrete dust clouded his vision as he struggled to stand. Diagnostics flared—43% efficiency. His systems were locking up. He was vulnerable, and he knew it.

The mech had a clear shot. It opened fire, spraying bullets and launching a rocket. Murphy braced for impact. His robotic second life was about to end.

The rocket closed in… and then, an explosion. Direct hit. But he was still functioning. Before him was a man-sized figure in red and gold, bullets ricocheting harmlessly off its armor.

Tony Stark stood there, calm as ever. His chestplate glowed, and an energy beam shot out, melting the enemy unit into a smoldering heap.

Tony retracted his faceplate, smirking like he’d just walked out of a coffee shop. “You’re welcome,” he quipped.

RoboCop’s systems sputtered as he stood, his voice crackling. “Thank you for your assistance, Stark.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You look like you need it. What are you running at? Fifteen percent? Maybe less?”

“Twenty-nine,” RoboCop replied, though even he knew that was optimistic. His systems were failing fast.

Tony snorted. “Yeah, sure. And I’m Santa Claus. You’re about to be a glorified trashcan. Let me patch you up before you shut down for good.”

RoboCop hesitated, but he was in no position to refuse. “I acce…pt,” he said, voice faltering.

Tony grinned, tapping a button on his forearm. A swarm of nanobots flowed out, crawling over RoboCop’s battered frame. They worked with surgical precision, repairing circuits and stabilizing his power core.

RoboCop felt his systems coming back online, though it was a temporary fix. Efficiency rose to 50%. Far from optimal, but sufficient for now.

“You’re built tough, Robo,” Tony observed. “Old-school but solid. I like it. But if you ever want to ditch the ‘vintage car’ vibe you’re giving off, hit me up.”

“I am fine as I am,” RoboCop responded, his voice steadier now.

Tony shrugged. “Suit yourself. Just don’t say I didn’t offer when you’re breaking down again.”

The nanobots finished their repairs and retreated into Tony’s suit. “You’re patched for now. Try not to get blown up again. I’ve got a keynote to give.”

“Understood. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Robo,” Tony said, his helmet snapping back into place. “Stay shiny.”

With a roar of repulsors, Iron Man shot into the sky, leaving Murphy standing in the aftermath of the battle. The street was littered with wreckage, and the distant sound of panicked civilians was fading.

As Murphy was about to enter the hotel, his sensors detected sudden movement. A tall figure in a long black trench coat and eyepatch approached. Murphy unholstered his sidearm.

“Officer Murphy,” Fury said, his voice gravelly. “You did good out there.”

“It was my duty,” Murphy replied, his visor locking onto Fury’s face.

Fury smirked. “Sure, but you did more than just follow orders. Ever think about doing something bigger?”

RoboCop’s systems hummed softly, running diagnostics. “Explain.”

“I’m talking about the Avengers. You’ve got the skills. Tony suggested it btw. We could really use someone like you.”

RoboCop paused, processing. “I will… consider it.”

Fury’s grin widened. “That’s all I’m asking. We’ll be in touch.”