Author's Note: Bonus chapter! Apparently, when our Grand Master first came over from Korea (in the 50's or 60's) and started the school, number ten in the Articles was "always kill discreetly". At some point this was changed, because you can't just say stuff like that anymore (or teach it to small children!), but I had to put it in here just for fun. Enjoy!

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Bonus Chapter: Always Kill Discreetly

Slowly, carefully, the team advanced upon the enemy fortress. They worked like a well-oiled machine; while their fearless leader approached the gates straight-on, the rest fanned out to create a nearly perfect, unstoppable army. Indeed a force to be reckoned with, they did not hesitate as they took up their assigned positions, ready at the last moment to burst into the stronghold and confront the tyrant inside.

Suddenly, a dull thump. All eyes widened to stare at the motionless form of their leader crumpled on the path. A small plume of smoke rose from his singled uniform before there was a bright flash. The body disappeared.

After that, the others never stood a chance.

One by one, they were felled. The archer was the first to go, toppling out of his tree and winking out of existence before he hit the ground. The brave warrior was next, taken down as he made a reckless dash to avenge his fallen friends. The spy, halfway up the fortress wall in the confusion, was dropped like a stone.

The last to fall was the knight in shining armor. As he met his doom, he lifted a fist to the sky and wailed in defeat. "Nooooooooooo–!"

Tony threw his game controller across the room, swearing much more violently than his dying avatar. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me! Whose idea was it to send Steve in to do the talking? Haven't we learned by now that the "friendly neighborhood boyscout who happens to have super powers" bit just pisses people off?"

"We are definitely doing it my way next round," Clint decided firmly, not that he had bothered to tell anyone what his way was. He looked to Natasha for support.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you don't want a turn, Bruce?" she waved the controller in Banner's direction. "The gameplay is a little tame for my taste."

Bruce glanced up from his novel. "I'll pass; Big Guy doesn't like games. Besides, the storyline is weak."

"Didn't Tony create this game?" Steve asked around a mouthful of pizza. He had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Yes!" Tony declared hotly. Having retrieved his controller, he was now glaring at it like it was going to come alive and eat him. "As a matter off act, I did spend almost two months of my life painstakingly – painstakingly! – writing the program, creating the graphics, and making the whole darn thing available to the public on the world wide web. That's the internet, for those of us not born in the past hundred years or so." He shot a look at Steve, who seemed unfazed. Huffing, Tony continued, "So the short answer is yes, I did make the game that you all just failed spectacularly at."

"And it is wonderful!" Tony declared loudly, thumping Tony on the back with enough force to leave him gasping. "Do not lose heart, my friends! We have been beaten back, but rest assured that so long as we live and breathe, we shall yet utterly defeat this enemy."

On his third beer since losing the game, Clint gave an enthusiastic "hear, hear!". Natasha responded with more eye rolling.

"Aren't we all forgetting something?" Steve spoke up suddenly, that disturbingly thoughtful look still on his face as he gazed at Tony. "Stark made the game," he pointed out reasonably. "Couldn't he also have rigged it all so that no one besides him could win it?"

"Hey, that's a good point."

"It is not!" Tony spluttered. "I lost too, remember?"

"Yours is the only avatar that didn't disappear," Bruce pointed out without looking up from his book.

Making a series of exasperated sounds, Tony shook his head vigorously. "That's just the way that the game works," he insisted. "The last player's avatar doesn't disappear until the game restarts."

"What if you were playing the bad guy's side, too? How do we know you don't own the fortress?"

"Well I mean, technically I own the game, but –"

"So you are going Benedict Arnold on us?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Oh my gosh, no! For the last time, I am not some kind of good-for-nothing turncoat. We were playing against some random opponent online; I don't even know who it is!" Tony paused. A frown creased his forehead as he considered that. "Come to think of it, we should probably figure out who this guy is. I mean, if they managed to kick the Avenger's butts – even if it was only digitally – that's got to be some pretty nasty dude behind the fortress."

"I find your accusations hurtful, Sir," JARVIS's voice issued from the big tv.

Tony gasped. "But – wait, what?"

Only Tony Stark could create an AI that was able to sound sumg. "Actually, Sir, I am rather a small celebrity in the online gaming community. And if you'll pardon my saying so, you've all just played like a collection of untrained newcomers."

Thor's brow crinkled in confusion. "What does he mean, untrained newcomers?" he demanded. "I will have you know, Sir JARVIS, that I was trained by the finest battle-masters in the Nine Realms –!"

"He means N00bs, Lancelot," Tony said numbly. His eyes had gotten glassy, and he seemed to be losing touch with reality. "He just called us N00bs."

"To borrow the vernacular," JARVIS conceeded.

Tony buried his face in his hands.

fin.

Note: And a moment of levity to end things right. Thanks for reading!