….
[Back to Jin-Ho]
"It looks exactly like I can remember…"
Jin-Ho hesitated for only a moment. "Gulp… this thing's not gonna dump me straight into the Netherworld, right? Especially not that place with those eight freakin' demons?"
Completely unaware of the predicaments Jin-Ho's dimensional travel would create in Netherworld, he passed through the portal opening, and the world dissolved as he was pulled into the vortex.
His body twisted and contorted, feeling how the laws of physics disregarded in present circumstances.
Then came the warning.
◤-----------------------◥
[Ding–! System Notification!]
「Warning! Since your level is low, you will experience extreme nausea during Dimensional Transfer.」
◣-----------------------◢
Ehh?..!
Before he could even process the implications, the sensation struck him like a tidal wave, Jin-Ho had no time to process what was happening.
A sickening dizziness churned in his stomach, his limbs turned weak, and an overwhelming weight settled on his chest.
His Hunter-like strength, he obtained since awakened as one was nowhere -
He felt weak, and powerless.
The transition he was experiencing within him and around him was as abruptly as it had begun.
When he finally stumbled through, Jin-Ho's legs wobbled, almost buckling beneath him, one hand gripping his forehead, as if the very act of existing in this reality was physically overwhelming.
Behind him the portal already closed itself to non-existence.
"Damn, you are late with your warning.
"Ugh! My head hurts worse than when that fan crushed my skull in."
It was his first time traveling through a portal, and his body seemed to revolt against the experience, every nerve ringing with disorientation.
Moments, or what felt like endless minutes, passed before the storm behind his eyes began to calm.
"...." His vision, still hazy and trembling at the edges, gradually sharpened until the world came into focus.
Sand.
Endless stretches of it, shifting beneath the dry wind.
He was standing in a desert….?
And though he didn't yet know it, not far from where his boots sank into the dunes, a clash had just shaken the air - an echo of violence he was about to stumble across.
….
[Before Jin-Ho's Dimensional Travel]
[Earth-616: Afghanistan]
….
It looked like any other day - at least at first glance.
The desert stretched endlessly, sun-scorched and cracked, jagged rocks jutting like broken teeth.
There were no trees, and not a single trace of water nearby.
Only the merciless blaze of the sun and the dry wind kicking up spirals of sand that ghosted across the ground.
Against that emptiness, five figures cut through the haze - soldiers in full tactical gear, moving with crisp precision, eyes scanning, weapons ready.
Beside them, a man in a tailored suit, sunglasses gleaming, was the unmistakable center of attention, he moved with a confidence bordering on theatrical - arms wide, talking animatedly, clearly basking in the attention.
This was a weapons demonstration and Tony Stark, billionaire genius, was in full showman mode.
Their focus was on Tony Stark, whose voice carried across the empty land like a prophet on a stage.
"...they say the best weapon is the one you never have to fire, I respectfully disagree."
His words dripped with confidence, charm, and ego.
….
The demonstration ended minutes later followed by applause from the officers.
Currently, Tony is being accompanied by a caravan split into two groups.
And inside one of the armored Humvees sat Tony Stark, the prodigal son of Stark Industries, freshly basking in the triumph of demonstrating his new weapon, the Jericho missile.
- that's when the satellite phone hisses in Tony Stark's palm.
It was his supposed partner back home:
["—Tony."]
"Obie, what are you doing up?"
["I couldn't sleep till I found out how it went. How did it go?"]
"It went great. Looks like it's gonna be an early Christmas."
["Hey! Way to go, my boy! I will see you tomorrow, yeah?"] Obadiah's voice turns paternal, teasing. ["Why aren't you wearing those pajamas I got you? Good night, Tony."]
Tony lets the conversation pass, completely unbeknownst to the fact that later is responsible for whatever is going to happen to him.
He immediately goes to converse with soldiers - calling his own ride the Fun-vee, leaving the Hum-drum-vee to the others, his irreverence showing even amid the dust and danger of war.
He didn't care, in about a half day, he would have been back at his Malibu mansion, sinking into silk sheets.
But here, fate had drawn a crueler line.
….
[Back to Jin-Ho]
Even through the disorientation, Jin-Ho's Hunter body betrayed its edge - vision sharpening, senses slicing through the haze, every movement around him suddenly clear.
That's when he caught the rumble.
Vehicles.
They weren't veering away - they were driving straight at him, a dust trail curling behind their wheels.
"..." Jin-Ho squinted into the glare, heat rolling off the desert in waves.
The closer they came, the more detail snapped into focus, desert-worn transports, their frames caked in grit, silhouettes shifting inside.
Soldiers? Military.
His thoughts still crackled with static, but then - one face.
In the passenger seat, framed by shadow and dust.
The posture and the voice carried faintly on the wind.
It's impossible to make a mistake.
Jin-Ho's breath hitched, his chest locking tight.
…That man… Tony Stark.
I am in the MCU!!
But the awe only lasted a second, because Jin-Ho knew what came next.
….
The instincts that Jin-Ho didn't have in his other life roared awake, panic, urgency and fear.
Tony Stark was about to be attacked, and Jin-Ho - standing just behind a rocky outcrop - was close enough to be in the blast zone.
His heart pounded in his ears, his knees nearly buckled again, but adrenaline overrode the dizziness.
He didn't hesitate, instead of retreating, he ran toward the convoy - toward Stark - toward the fire.
It wasn't recklessness, it was instinct.
…and it was also his only choice.
He needs to stick close to him for his survival.
So he shouted - not just to save Tony, but to save himself too.
"Get off!"
Tony, mid-sentence with an officer inside the vehicle, turned slightly at the unexpected voice, his sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, brow furrowing.
"What the hell—"
Too late.
BOOMM–!
The ground beneath trembled with a sudden, unnatural force.
A crack split the air.
A flash of white-hot light swallowed everything, no sound, just raw, blinding energy, then the noise came, a thunderclap that shook his bones.
Jin-Ho felt himself lifted.
No, hurled - through the air.
His limbs were limp.
The sky spun violently.
But something moved through instinct alone.
Telekinesis.
It was the only thing he had.
How strong was it, really? Strong enough to hold a truck mid-air on a good day?
Maybe… but his proficiency is too low as of now.
And the chances of succeeding in stopping a pinpoint missile tearing toward him are none.
But choices didn't matter.
Because it wasn't just his skin on the line.
The man flung into the air beside him, Tony Stark, needed saving too.
The explosion had cracked the sky wide open, sand geysered upward like a sea breaking its surface, one of the vehicles flipped sideways, ripped open like paper.
Stark was thrown from the torn door, his body spinning backward, straight toward the spot Jin had been sprinting toward moments before.
Jin-Ho gritted his teeth.
He extended one hand, fingers trembling, eyes wide in panic as he summoned a pulse of invisible energy - a raw burst of telekinetic force.
It wasn't clean and definitely wasn't focused.
But it did its job to an extent.
The impact wasn't stopped - but it was slowed.
Tony hit the ground hard, his body bounced once, skidded, dust and blood mixing on his suit, the injuries were real, cracked ribs, shrapnel - but not as deep, not as lethal.
He would survive - but not unscarred.
Jin-Ho wasn't so lucky.
The backlash from the blast sent him crashing to the dirt, he rolled once, came to a stop facedown, coughing violently, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, hot and metallic.
He opened one eye, but all he could see was dust and smoke.
His only hope was, he succeeded in reducing the damage.
Unbeknownst to him for now, even after his intervention the arc reactor, the thing that was never meant to exist, would still become a reality.
However, his actions weren't for waste - his condition won't be exactly the same as the movie, but the wound had been made.
The origin might be slightly rewritten - but not erased.
And Jin-Ho, still gasping on the sand, will realise this moment had changed everything.
For Stark.
For the world.
And especially... for him.
….
.
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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