On the way to the press conference, Stark leaned close to Pepper's ear. "Run a background check on Austen."
Pepper blinked. "Didn't you say he saved you?"
"He did," Stark admitted, "but he's being way too nice. Feels like he wants something. And—" He shrugged. "—I've known him half a day. Don't even know if 'Austen' is his real name."
Pepper gave a small nod. "Okay. After the conference—"
"No," Stark cut her off. "Now. I want a file waiting on my desk the second I walk off that stage."
Pepper drew a breath, ducked into a side room, and called JARVIS. "Pull everything you can on an Asian male going by Austen. Recent contact with Tony. Prioritize." Then she hurried for the auditorium, silently begging Tony to stick to the script for once.
The notice was short, but "Tony Stark" sold itself. Reporters packed the hall, and tucked among them sat a very calm Phil Coulson.
Coulson had been baffled the second he heard Stark was alive—back in New York already. Vanished in Afghanistan… then what, walked across an ocean?
When Stark took the mic and declared Stark Industries was shutting down its weapons division, Pepper stared like she'd been hit with a stun gun. Hospital, she thought. He needs a scan.
Across the aisle, Coulson's shock hardened into suspicion. This wasn't the time to argue business policy. He drifted up to Pepper and offered his card. "Ms. Potts. Agent Coulson, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I need to ask about Mr. Stark's disappearance."
Pepper glanced at the alphabet-soup name and had the stray thought: How do you even fit that on a business card?
"I know a lot of agencies have come knocking," she said. "DoD, CIA… Tony showed up here maybe thirty minutes ago. First thing he did was meet with an Asian guy in his office. I don't know details."
"Asian?" Coulson's brow furrowed. "Name?"
"He said 'Austen.' Do you know him?"
The name hit like a tripwire. Coulson's first instinct: Stark needed a psych eval now. Hypnosis was on the table—and shutting down weapons? Sounded exactly like a planted suggestion.
"If you mean an Asian man with a slight paunch named Austen—yes. We have a file. Dangerous." He was already dialing. "Director, Austen just surfaced. He's with Stark. I suspect Stark may be under hypnosis. Requesting specialist team on-site."
He covered the mic. "Is Austen still in the office?"
Pepper's gut fluttered. Hypnosis? She wanted Stark in an MRI this second. "Yes," she whispered. "He's still there."
On the line, Fury's voice was clipped. "Find Austen. I want motive. Tell Stark to audit his systems—if anything's missing, I want to know yesterday. Afghanistan search continues, revised objective."
Coulson holstered his phone, touched the pistol at his back. "Ms. Potts, can you take me to him?"
Pepper hesitated. Tony had called Austen a friend—today, anyway. But letting a fed walk him out? Wrong.
"I'm not taking him," Coulson assured. "Just a few questions. And you can tell your boss exactly what we're doing."
"Security comes with us," Pepper said.
"Of course."
They entered Stark's office to find Austen—Li—sitting at Tony's desk, playing Solitaire on the computer.
From the door, all Coulson saw was a figure at the keyboard. He didn't see cards on the screen. His gun came up smooth and fast. "Mr. Austen, theft isn't a career path."
Li looked from the muzzle to the monitor, then back at the half-cleared tableau of red on black. Stealing… Solitaire? He almost laughed.
"Uh… Coulson, right? That was the name?" Li cocked his head. "S.H.I.E.L.D.'s efficient. I've been in New York what—an hour?"
Pepper darted forward, rounded the desk. Solitaire. That was it. She turned a glare on Coulson. "Agent, lower the gun. Or I'll have security throw you out."
Coulson let the barrel dip, grudging. "Ms. Potts, reminder: Austen is a skilled hypnotist. One snap and—"
A dry voice from the doorway cut in. "You still need to snap to hypnotize people?"
Tony walked in, waved security out. This was his office, not a standoff.
When the door shut, he sauntered up. "For the record, I figured you could do it with a look. Movies say wizards use the stare. Right, Mr. Li Feng?"
Li smiled, stood. "So you dug me up. Learn anything useful?"
Pepper froze. Tony wasn't joking. He knew the name—and he was calling Li a wizard. For the first time, Coulson's warning rang true.
Stark shrugged. "Not much. Which is why—when do I get to see your toy?"
Li scratched his temple. Hard to read Stark: suspicion and curiosity braided tight. Whatever. He slipped the Time-Turner's chain into his palm and looked at Pepper. "We can go now. Want to come? Once-in-a-lifetime tour."
Tony tapped his nose. "Danger?"
"Crossing the street is danger," Li said. "Follow the rules, it's safer than a crosswalk—and you'll never forget it."
Tony's brow twitched up. "Accurate metaphor. That's why I drive in crosswalks." He hesitated, then made the call. Not Pepper, not yet. Later—when he had a build of his own.
He flicked his fingers. "Showtime."
Pepper tried one last time. "Tony, I need you at a hosp—"
Her voice strangled off as Li swung a short cloak from his bag, draped it over Tony, and looped the Time-Turner's chain around his neck.
Li twisted the tiny hourglass.
Pepper gasped. Right before her eyes, Tony Stark—dust-streaked, alive, still warm from the crowd—rippled out of existence and vanished.
The moment Li Ming twisted the Time-Turner, Stark's ears rang like a struck bell. The office warped, colors smeared into streaks, and for one gut-lurching instant he felt himself hurled backward through space.
Then it all snapped into place. The desk clock ticked an hour earlier. Pepper, who'd been standing there seconds ago, was gone.
Stark tugged at the cloak draped over his shoulders, eyes sharp on Li.
"How do I know this isn't a cheap rewind? You said people can't see us or things get messy. That mean we're trapped in here?"
Li gestured at the cloak.
"That fabric makes you invisible in plain sight. People won't see you—they'll ignore you. To be safe, I've added another veil."
He swung the door open with a mock bow.
"Tour time."
Stark muttered under his breath as they stepped into the hall.
"'Ignored,' not 'invisible.' So basically, I get to wear this rug and experience what it feels like to be dumped by the entire planet."
"Accurate summary," Li said flatly.
Stark waved his hands in an employee's face. The man glanced right through him and walked on.
"Okay, either this cloak works, or I'm running a company of insubordinate zombies."
Li caught his arm before he pushed it further.
"Save the haunting for later. You wanted proof? The rooftop's waiting."
The roof was bare—no car, no returning billionaire. Stark prowled like he could conjure it by glaring. Li knelt, inscribing a glowing warding circle into the stone.
"Insurance," he said. "If my past self glances this way, we stay hidden."
Stark leaned on the ledge, taking in the skyline. "Since it's just us, I've got questions. Your file doesn't match. Hospital records, age—doesn't line up. My people suggested plastic surgery. Maybe a secret clinic?"
Li didn't look up. "Try South Korea's surveillance feeds. You might catch me between facelifts."
Stark's brow furrowed. "Hold on. Did I ever tell you about J.A.R.V.I.S.?"
"No," Li said, eyes amused. "Just like you never told me about Pepper. But I didn't tell you I can read the future either."
That silenced Stark for a beat. He stroked his chin.
"So you're not after me—you're after what my future self has."
"Time," Li said simply.
"My time's not for sale." Stark forced a snort, but the word itched. "If you're right, does that mean I'd have made it out of that desert anyway?"
"Yes. But you'd have come home in a body cast." Li tapped his uninjured arm. "In the original timeline, you arrived at this tower on crutches. I only knew that because I read tomorrow's paper."
The truth settled in Stark's gut. His future had been rewritten.
"Meddling with time is dangerous," Li said, finishing the circle. "I don't peek unless I must."
Engines rumbled overhead. Li's gaze sharpened. "Car's coming. Get in the circle."
Stark obeyed, muttering, "Starting to hate stealth cars. Maybe I'll upgrade the tower's thermal cams."
Moments later, the battered car landed. Out staggered Tony Stark—dirt-streaked, half-dead, exactly as expected.
Present-Stark opened his mouth. Li's glare shut him fast. His past self paused, eyes narrowing toward the roof. Only when that Stark disappeared inside did Li relax.
"Remember the rules," Li said coldly. "One slip, and the Masters of the Mystic Arts will come hunting."
Stark swallowed, uneasy—but curiosity wouldn't quit. "And worst-case?"
Li clapped a hand on his shoulder, voice low.
"Worst case, you're trapped. One hour, on repeat, forever. Everyone else moves forward, but you? You relive the loop until madness chews you hollow. Imagine ten seconds. Ten seconds of eternity."
For once, Stark didn't joke. His smirk faded to a hard stare. "Unless I had your help."
Li smiled without answering and nodded toward the stairwell.
"Tour's over. Back to the office."
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