[The Cave. Day 7.]
"We need more time," Yinsen whispered, his hands shaking as he tightened the final bolt on the Mark 1's chest piece.
"We don't have time," Tony gritted out. He was drenched in sweat, his eyes dark with exhaustion. The arc reactor in his chest hummed—a steady, rhythmic beat that matched his adrenaline. "They're coming. I can hear them shouting."
The heavy iron door of the workshop rattled. Someone was pounding on it.
"Open up! Show us the missile!"
"Boot it up," Tony ordered. "Now!"
Yinsen ran to the laptop. "The initiation sequence... it takes too long. They'll break in before you can move."
Tony looked at the suit. It was crude, ugly, and terrifying. It was his masterpiece. "Then go. Hide in the corner. Don't be a hero."
"Stark," Yinsen looked at the door, which was beginning to buckle. He grabbed a rifle from the table. "This isn't about being a hero. It's about buying time."
"Yinsen, no!"
But the doctor was already running toward the door. He fired into the air, shouting, drawing their attention away from the dark corner where Tony stood encased in iron.
Whirrrrr...
The lights on the Mark 1 flickered. The hydraulics hissed.
Power at 50%.
Yinsen reached the hallway. He saw the terrorists swarming. He raised his gun, ready to die.
And then, the lights went out.
Not just in the hallway—the entire cave system plunged into pitch blackness.
The shouting stopped. The gunfire stopped.
For a second, there was silence. Then, a scream. A wet, gurgling sound that echoed off the stone walls. Then another. And another.
Yinsen lowered his gun, squinting into the dark. He saw flashes of silver. He saw shadows moving against the flow of the panicked crowd.
Clang!
The heavy iron door was ripped off its hinges—not by the terrorists, but from the outside.
[Inside the Suit]
Power at 100%.
"My turn," Tony growled.
He didn't know what was happening outside, and he didn't care. He smashed through the wall, stepping out into the hallway.
He expected a firefight. He expected a hail of bullets.
Instead, he stepped into a slaughterhouse.
The corridor was littered with unconscious and groaning men. Weapons were bent in half. The heavy machine gun emplacement had been sliced cleanly in two.
"What the..." Tony's mechanical voice boomed through the helmet.
He lumbered forward, the heavy suit clanking on the stone. He reached the cave entrance. The sunlight blinded him for a moment.
He engaged the thrusters. WHOOSH.
The Mark 1 launched into the sky. It was a clumsy, violent flight. Tony soared over the camp, watching the chaos below. The terrorists weren't looking up at him; they were running away from the front gate.
"Flight stability lost!" Tony yelled as the suit began to list to the left. "Deploying... whatever this is!"
He smashed into a sand dune three miles away, the suit disintegrating on impact. Metal flew everywhere. Tony tumbled across the sand, coughing, bruised, but alive.
He lay there on his back, staring up at the relentless sun. He was free.
"Sir?"
A shadow fell over him.
Tony groaned, shielding his eyes. "If you're an angel, you're wearing too much wool."
Sebastian Michaelis stood over him, holding a pristine white handkerchief. He looked down at the pile of scrap metal that used to be the Mark 1, and then at the dirty, bloody Tony Stark.
"I must say, Sir," Sebastian said, offering a hand. "Your fashion sense has taken a rather... industrial turn."
Tony laughed. It was a dry, raspy sound. He grabbed the gloved hand and pulled himself up. "You took your time."
"My apologies," Sebastian dusted off Tony's shoulder. "The local hospitality was rather insistent. I had to teach them some manners."
Tony looked back toward the smoke rising from the camp. "Yinsen?"
"The doctor is safe. I left him with a bottle of water and directions to the nearest US outpost. He seems... resilient."
Tony let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looked at Sebastian—really looked at him. The demon wasn't even sweating.
"I need a drink," Tony said.
"I have a flask of chilled whiskey in the car," Sebastian smiled. "I borrowed a jeep. It's a bit dusty, but the air conditioning works."
"You're the worst," Tony said, leaning on his butler as they walked toward the jeep.
"I am simply one hell of a butler," Sebastian replied.
[End of Chapter 4]
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