Tony stood frozen in shock. By the time his mind processed what he'd witnessed, the oven's heat had intensified, filling the tent with the acrid stench of burning flesh. He lunged forward, grabbing Coby and yanking him away from the blazing interior.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
Gemini calmly withdrew a crystal vial from her robes, setting it on the dining table with deliberate precision. "Coby—enough. Apply the healing salve and prepare dinner. I want lamb stew tonight."
The house-elf wrenched free from Tony's grip, cradling the potion against his charred hand. After a formal bow to his mistress, he vanished with a soft pop.
Tony stared at Gemini in horrified bewilderment. "What is he? Why does he hurt himself like that? How could you just—"
"Mr. Stark." Her voice could have frozen summer rain. "I suggest you guard your tongue around Coby. Had I not intervened, his guilt would have compelled him to thrust his entire body into those flames. Self-punishment is preferable to self-immolation."
"But what kind of creature—"
"A house-elf. He belongs exclusively to me—born, according to family legend, at the precise moment of my birth. When I returned to claim my inheritance, he awakened from decades of slumber." Her explanation carried the weight of ancient tradition. "He exists to serve, Mr. Stark. Disobedience triggers automatic punishment before I even recognize the transgression."
She rose gracefully, moving to the window where afternoon light caught the silver threads in her dark hair.
"That's quite enough revelation for one day. Knowledge of our world carries... consequences... for those unprepared to handle it. And never—never—speak of such things in public. Even I couldn't protect you from the Ministry's response."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop another ten degrees.
Ethan chose that moment to come thundering down the stairs, his face pale with terror. "We need to move! Now! Pack everything—they're coming! I saw vehicles from the upper window!"
Tony shot to his feet, rushing outside to confirm what his friend had spotted. Dust clouds rolled across the desert horizon—definitely vehicles, definitely heading their direction.
"Gemini!" He spun back toward the tent. "We need to evacuate—"
She stood directly behind him, having moved with that unnatural silence he was beginning to associate with her kind of power.
"Relax, Mr. Stark. They cannot perceive us here."
"What do you mean they can't—" Tony started, but Ethan had already disappeared back into the tent, emerging moments later with two kitchen knives.
"Better than nothing," the doctor muttered, pressing one handle into Tony's palm.
Both men stood rigid with tension, gripping their pathetic weapons as the dust cloud approached the oasis perimeter.
Two armed men dismounted from their jeep, speaking rapidly in what sounded like Pashto. They gestured toward the space where the tent should have been clearly visible, their voices carrying obvious confusion.
Then they climbed back into their vehicle and drove away.
Ethan stared in amazement. "They were asking where the oasis went. How is that possible? We're standing right here!"
Tony turned to Gemini with the expression of a man whose understanding of physics had just been thoroughly demolished.
"Spatial manipulation? Some kind of holographic projection? Can you teach—"
"No," she interrupted with finality. "And no."
But Tony's eyes blazed with the fervor of discovery. Someday, his expression promised. Someday I'll understand.
The following days passed in relative peace. With security threats neutralized, Tony threw himself back into metallurgy with obsessive focus. Coby no longer appeared directly, but meals and fresh clothing materialized at precise intervals—evidence of invisible, efficient service.
On the final day of Gemini's deadline, Tony emerged from his makeshift workshop wearing the culmination of weeks of desperate engineering.
The Mark I armor gleamed dully in the afternoon sun—crude but functional, powered by the arc reactor that had kept him alive through captivity. Every rivet, every joint represented not just engineering prowess but sheer determination to survive.
Gemini studied the mechanical marvel with obvious curiosity.
"Hey, little girl!" Tony's voice echoed metallically from within the suit. "Any chance of a ride to the base?"
Her eyebrows rose. "Planning to commit suicide? I haven't received final payment yet."
"Planning to correct my mistakes," he replied with grim determination. "Double fee for transport service."
"Coby!" she called without hesitation. "Deliver Mr. Stark to an unoccupied section of the terrorist compound."
The house-elf materialized behind the armored figure, grasped a protruding piece of metal plating, and both vanished instantly.
Gemini retrieved an ornate flying carpet from the tent's interior, settling onto its silk surface with practiced ease. She glanced at Ethan.
"Care to observe the festivities? Complimentary viewing."
The doctor climbed aboard with obvious trepidation, white-knuckling the carpet's golden tassels as the ground fell away beneath them.
"This won't suddenly... drop... will it?"
"Are you questioning my competence?" Gemini asked with mock offense. "My piloting may lack Coby's finesse, but I've never lost a passenger."
Yet, Ethan thought nervously.
The carpet streaked across the desert at impossible speed, reaching the terrorist compound within minutes. Gemini brought them to a hover high above the installation, then drew her wand with fluid precision.
"Disillusionment Charm," she murmured, waving the magical focus over herself, Ethan, and their transport.
They vanished completely.
"Why is everything so quiet?" Ethan whispered, studying the compound below. "You don't think they captured him again?"
"Impossible. Coby remains with Mr. Stark until payment is secured."
Three minutes later, gunfire erupted throughout the base. Figures scattered like ants from a disturbed hill, their shouts and screams echoing across the desert.
Ethan squinted downward, searching for any sign of Tony's metallic form among the chaos.
Then the Mark I appeared at the cave entrance, and Tony hurled something small toward the weapons stockpile.
Ethan's face went white. "Climb! Now! That's an explosive—the madman's going to level the entire—"
Gemini didn't wait for him to finish. The carpet shot skyward at maximum velocity, racing toward the safety of distance.
The explosion, when it came, was biblical.
Fire and debris erupted from the compound like a miniature volcano. The shockwave caught their fleeing carpet, sending both passengers tumbling through violent aerial somersaults. Only Ethan's death grip on the tassels prevented him from plummeting to earth.
When the chaos subsided, they turned back toward the burning ruins.
"Where is he?" Ethan demanded. "I don't see—"
A metallic figure burst from the flames, rocket-propelled and climbing fast. Tony's triumphant war cry echoed across the desert as he soared into the blue sky.
Ethan exhaled in relief. Gemini smiled with satisfaction—her payment was secure.
But Tony's celebration proved premature. His improvised flight system sputtered, died, and sent him plummeting in a graceful arc toward the sand dunes directly below their position.
Gemini calculated trajectory and timing with mathematical precision, then pointed her wand at the impact site.
"Impedimenta!"
The spell cushioned Tony's landing, transforming what should have been a fatal crash into a merely bone-jarring bounce across the sand.
Ethan leaped from the carpet before it fully descended, racing toward the crumpled form of his friend.
"Tony! You alive in there?"
The helmet came off with a metallic clang, revealing Tony's face—bruised, grinning, absolutely radiant with accomplishment.
"Did you see that?" he gasped, laughing like a man drunk on possibility. "I flew, Ethan! Actually flew! Destroyed every weapon in that hellhole and soared like a damn eagle!"
Gemini touched down beside them, studying Tony's battered but exuberant expression.
This, she realized, was how legends began.
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