There was no more need for words, so he continued forward after her, armored eyes aglow and fixed on her location. The helmet had been one of the only parts of the armor that had remained almost completely undamaged in the fight with Tony; the paint had chipped and the metal had warped, from the crash, but it hadn't taken long to repair. The circuitry itself was still intact.

So the wrench clanking at him barely did anything. He batted it away, and though it made him stop for a moment or two, it wasn't long before he was on her again, arms grabbing for the intruder -- hoping for an arm, maybe a leg, or a neck to twist or bend or snap. He was fast in the armor, though the lab was not conducive for his speed. There were things that could be damaged or knocked over, crashed into.