There was that strange ash in the air here, the total, dehydrated death of the plants, water gone like it had been burnt out, and the cracks through the walls where the foundation had been shaken; was all of this just some strange fallout from the volcano? This theory would need some work before Tony figured out how the beasts figured into it, all blind and hungry like--like they had been living underground. Maybe Donnie wasn't so far off, thinking there was an infection in those creatures. Still looking distracted by all of the ways this whole thing might have been his fault, Tony held his arm closer against his chest defensively, and started to argue, "I didn't let it do anything, I was--I had a plan." And he was used to being wrapped securely in the armor for that kind of plan to be effective. What he had now was just the nanoweb, which he drew back reluctantly to check the damage to his hand. The blood fairly coated it, the gold just replaced by red that quickly oxidized and dried dark as the air reached it, and Tony grimaced as he gave his fingers an experimental flex to see the wounds open and drip down his wrist. "I think..." he said, trailing off as something else snagged in his brain, a pattern he couldn't quite place, an uncoupled fragment that still made him sure he could say, "I think I'll be fine." A shriek echoed through the dark streets from high above them.