Chapter 12 - Arcane Solutions:Shop-Chapter 12

🌟 LAUNCH WEEK SPECIAL 🌟

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👑 500 Stones → 15 Bonus Chapters!

⏰ Resets Monday!

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Gemini frowned at Tony's writhing form, producing an ornate parchment notebook and golden quill with practiced efficiency.

"Describe your symptoms. Precisely."

Tony stared at her scholarly preparations with dawning horror. "You're using me as a test subject?!"

"Such crude language. Simply provide detailed feedback so I can determine the optimal pain management approach." Her smile was perfectly ladylike—and absolutely terrifying. Tony could practically see a forked tail swishing behind her.

Between gasps of agony, he provided a comprehensive account of his suffering, terrified that omitting any detail might prolong his torment.

Gemini recorded his responses with clinical detachment, then waved her wand over his prone form. Light cascaded across his body as she made additional notes.

"Fascinating. My calculations contained minor errors regarding Muggle physiology versus wizard constitution. Standard Skele-Gro requires four hours for magical individuals—with 1.5 times normal discomfort. Muggles typically need half that dosage with minimal pain increase." She paused, consulting her notes. "You consumed a full bottle of my enhanced formula. Bone regeneration should complete within two hours, but pain levels have tripled."

Tony collapsed into the sand, clutching his reforming ribcage. "I don't need pharmaceutical analysis—I need the agony to stop!"

"Ah. First, burn that parchment."

Gemini looked genuinely embarrassed—the first human trial of her improved potion, and she'd miscalculated dosage. Professional pride demanded better.

Tony used flames from his smoldering armor to incinerate the paper, then watched in terror as she produced another crystal vial.

"Please tell me I don't have to drink—"

"Absolutely not." She waved the bottle beneath his nose. Tony inhaled reflexively, detecting no particular scent.

"What does it—"

He toppled backward, unconscious before finishing the question. Thunderous snoring filled the desert air.

"Didn't you say no anesthetics?" Ethan asked with concern.

"This isn't anesthesia—the pain continues unabated. I've simply induced sleep. Far preferable to conscious suffering." Gemini's tone suggested this was perfectly reasonable medical practice.

Ethan studied Tony's unconscious form with pity. Even deep slumber couldn't smooth his furrowed brow or still his twitching fingers. The man was clearly enduring torment even in dreams.

Thank God he'd emerged uninjured from their ordeal.

"What happens now?" Ethan repositioned himself to shade Tony's face from the harsh sun.

"Coby—tent secured? Transport us back to the oasis. Mr. Stark requires proper accommodations during recovery."

"Miss Gemini, the tent remains erected—I've only removed the oasis protective wards!" Coby's sharp voice carried obvious pride in his efficiency.

Gemini placed her hand on the house-elf's shoulder. Ethan grasped Coby's extended arm while maintaining his grip on Tony's wrist.

Reality twisted. When the world stabilized, they stood before their desert sanctuary.

Gemini disappeared into the tent immediately—Pepper's location remained uncertain, and comfortable waiting seemed preferable to desert vigil.

Ethan approached Coby with careful respect. "Could you help move Mr. Stark inside? I can't manage alone."

The house-elf's attitude toward Ethan had warmed considerably. With dignified approval, he pointed one elongated finger at Tony's prone form. The unconscious man rose smoothly, floating toward the tent's entrance.

Coby deposited Tony in his assigned quarters, then—moved by Ethan's consistent kindness—provided additional care. He changed Tony into loose pajamas, cleansed away blood and grime, and arranged him comfortably on the bed.

Ethan's profuse gratitude clearly pleased the house-elf, who vanished with evident satisfaction. Muggles possessed more decency than most wizards credited them with—though this particular specimen required better nutrition.

Meanwhile, 200 kilometers distant...

The American military installation buzzed with controlled urgency. In the central command building's conference room, Pepper Potts paced with barely contained anxiety.

"Listen to me, Pepper—you have to return to the States. This region is too dangerous." Colonel James Rhodes blocked the doorway with military authority. "You're Tony's most trusted advisor. I can't risk losing you too. I'll coordinate the search from here—you need to protect Stark Industries in his absence."

"Absolutely not, Rhodes. He's here—somewhere close. I don't have exact coordinates, but Tony's alive and nearby. I have reliable intelligence. I'm staying until we receive confirmation."

Rhodes rubbed his face wearily. "Your 'reliable intelligence' comes from that bizarre shop, doesn't it? Pepper, you're asking me to trust—"

A sharp knock interrupted their argument. Rhodes opened the door to find a communications specialist standing at attention.

"Sir, massive explosion detected due west, approximately ten minutes ago. Satellite imagery suggests a terrorist compound was completely destroyed."

"Distance and confirmation?"

"Two hundred kilometers, sir. Thermal signatures indicate total facility destruction."

"Continue monitoring. Dismissed."

The soldier saluted and departed. Rhodes turned back to find Pepper staring at him with desperate hope.

"Could it be Tony? Did he escape?"

"Pepper, we don't know anything yet. Your aircraft is reliable? The crew vetted? Because if we're moving into hostile territory—" Rhodes stopped mid-sentence, staring at Pepper's handbag. "What the hell is that?"

The leather bag pulsed with ethereal light, growing brighter with each flash.

"Get back!" Rhodes shoved Pepper behind him, grabbing a tactical shield from the wall mount. He approached the luminous bag with extreme caution. "What did you pack in there?"

Pepper looked bewildered. "Standard items—phone, keys, cosmetics, and... the parchment from the shop!"

Understanding dawned. Pepper pushed past Rhodes' protective stance, seized her bag, and upended it completely. Contents scattered across the conference table—but the glowing parchment floated down like a falling star.

She snatched it up, studying the surface with breathless intensity.

Lines materialized across the parchment—delicate ink strokes forming a detailed topographical map. The current military base appeared with perfect accuracy, complete with a pair of footprints labeled "Pepper Potts" positioned precisely within the command center.

A dotted trail extended westward across the desert, terminating at distant footprints marked "Tony Stark."

The map pulsed once—then displayed a simple message in elegant script:

"Target Located. Extraction Imminent. Prepare Transport."

Pepper looked up at Rhodes with tears of relief streaming down her face.

"Get your best pilot, Rhodes. We're bringing Tony home."