The moment Stark peered outside, his heart plummeted into an abyss. His face turned ashen, and he slammed the door shut with a resounding bang.
"Chasing troops," he muttered.
Damn it, the pursuers were here.
Tony Stark's eyes betrayed his horror. It had been two days since he constructed the Mark I armor and escaped from the Ten Rings' desert base. He had endured dehydration, hunger, searing heat, exhaustion, festering wounds, and countless other extreme conditions. But he never anticipated that before the military could locate him, the Ten Rings would send their forces after him.
Logically, it shouldn't be possible. He had eliminated everyone at the base. So why were they still pursuing him?
He couldn't help but glance at Kalroth beside him, suspicion furrowing his brow.
"You… are you with them?"
Tony's eyes narrowed with wariness. Although Kalroth's demeanor suggested otherwise, the man's sudden appearance in the heart of the desert was too irrational. This building was inexplicable, and so was this individual.
Despite harboring negative assumptions, Tony couldn't suppress the question. Unlike the composed demeanor of a seasoned operative, he was more emotionally driven. The anxiety gnawing at his heart compelled him to seek safety without delay.
"What do you think?" Kalroth replied, his gaze noting Stark's trembling hands.
It was fear—raw, unfiltered fear.
Tony's eyes darted over Kalroth's attire and demeanor. Though it was an unconventional deduction, Al didn't align with the Ten Rings. His presence here was peculiar, yet his refined mannerisms and elegant behavior starkly contrasted with the Ten Rings' brutality. Unlike the Ten Rings, known for their ruthless tactics and disregard for human life, Al exuded sophistication and lacked any apparent greed for wealth. His actions didn't mirror those of a terrorist evading international pursuit.
Taking a deep breath, Tony lowered his voice, speaking solemnly:
"Regardless of who you are or your intentions, we must leave now. The pursuers outside are merciless killers, mercenaries, and terrorists. I trust you don't wish to cross them, Mr. Al?"
"But perhaps I could choose to hand you over," Kalroth mused, his words causing Tony's face to blanch.
"That's a risky move. They won't allow anyone to know they have Tony Stark," Tony retorted swiftly.
Kalroth's gaze held a hint of amusement as he gestured around:
"There's only one building here, surrounded by hundreds of kilometers of uninhabited desert. If you venture out, you'll be an easy target. So, what's your plan?"
Tony fell silent. After analyzing all possibilities, despair clouded his eyes.
"What is that?"
"Oh God, a mirage? I actually see a building in the desert?"
Enrique Royo Ellance rubbed his eyes, disbelief etched on his face. In the yellow sand not far away, a semi-circular building stood prominently.
In the heart of the desert, this modern structure resembled remnants of an alien civilization—utterly surreal.
"Something's off. This is bizarre," Boris Elfman remarked, cocking his gun. "Everyone, spread out, advance cautiously. There's light inside that building!"
Time rewinds to a day prior.
Just as Stark made his escape, an unexpected assault occurred at the Ten Rings' headquarters. The Red Ribbon Army, a terrorist organization thought to be defunct, resurfaced, launching a swift and brutal takeover of the Ten Rings' territory.
This operation was executed with precision, resembling a textbook mercenary blitz.
Interestingly, when the Red Ribbon Army targeted Base 13, they discovered it had already been decimated. The remains of the Mark I armor piqued their interest. Upon accessing the base's data, they learned of Tony Stark's captivity and his coerced involvement in missile development.
Realizing Stark hadn't returned to civilization, they dispatched a team to locate him.
Braving relentless heat, a heavily armed group ventured deep into the desert, eventually approaching the solitary structure.
"They're approaching. Your conspicuous house has made escape impossible," Tony noted, regaining composure.
He activated the arc reactor on his chest. Unfortunately, without his armor, and lacking time to fabricate one, he was vulnerable.
"Do you have any weapons here?" he inquired.
Kalroth shook his head: "No."
Tony, exasperated, exclaimed:
"Am I dreaming? You're living in a desolate area, surrounded by deadly terrorists, and you have no weapons?
And we're on the brink of death, yet you're still eating?"
"Wait! Only ten portions left on the table?
You've consumed twenty portions? Is your stomach a black hole?"
Kalroth glanced at him, calmly picking up his chopsticks:
"If we're destined to die, we might as well eat our fill.
I'm not afraid of death, but I detest hunger.
Anyone who starves me will never eat again."
Welcome, welcome, a warm welcome!
How many friends have read this on the first day of release!