Days blurred together in the cave, but Tony didn't waste a single hour. The car battery that had once kept him alive—heavy, humiliating, and unreliable—was finally replaced by something real.
A miniature Arc Reactor.
It pulsed like a second heart, pouring out power so cleanly and steadily that even Tony, who hated admitting weakness, felt his spine straighten with relief. With that reactor humming in his chest, his hands stopped trembling. His mind cleared. His life became his again.
And with life secured, Tony focused on the only thing that could get him out.
The Mark I armor was nearly finished.
It looked ugly. Crude. Like a walking pile of scrap metal welded together by a desperate man.
Because that's what it was.
Tony had torn apart Jericho missile components piece by piece, reshaping them into a steel shell. It wasn't pretty, but it was tough. Ordinary bullets would only scratch it. And in a place like this, toughness mattered more than style.
Still, the Ten Rings were running out of patience.
They weren't judges. They didn't need proof. They didn't need a reason. Suspicion was enough.
Days had passed and Tony hadn't delivered a "finished weapon." Yet every day the cave echoed with hammering. Grinding. Welding.
What was he building?
A miracle?
Or an escape route?
Tony could feel their eyes on him. Their patience had turned into hunger. Their hunger was turning into violence.
So he decided: today, he would move.
Even if the Mark I wasn't perfect.
Even if it meant gambling his life.
But just as he prepared to act—gunfire exploded outside. Screams followed. Then the roar of engines, and the sharp crack of military weapons. The entire cave shook with distant chaos.
Tony snapped his head toward Yinsen.
"What's going on?"
Yinsen listened carefully, eyes widening as he recognized the voices.
Then his face broke into pure joy.
"The army found us! We're saved!"
Tony's heart surged—then instantly tightened again.
Saved? Maybe.
But before the army reached the cave, the Ten Rings might decide to erase him first.
"Then hurry," Tony said, voice sharp. "Help me put on the armor."
No more debate. No more waiting.
Yinsen understood immediately.
They had lived like animals in this cave for too long—eating, sleeping, bleeding, building. They didn't need long explanations anymore. Their teamwork was silent and instinctive.
The Mark I was complicated to wear. Heavy plating. Locked joints. Wiring. Fasteners. Internal startup systems. Power routing.
A progress bar crawled across the screen as the armor's systems booted up.
But outside, the gunfire was getting closer.
Yinsen stared at the bar, jaw clenched. The sound of death was approaching like footsteps.
Tony watched him—and understood what Yinsen was thinking.
He was going to sacrifice himself.
Tony's voice rose, angry and urgent.
"What are you doing? Stick to the plan, Yinsen!"
But Tony was trapped inside the armor frame. His arms weren't free. He couldn't stop him.
And then—
A voice echoed from outside, sharp and familiar.
"Tony? Are you in there?!"
Tony froze.
Then his face lit up like someone had just opened a window in hell.
"James?!"
Footsteps thundered closer. A squad of soldiers pushed forward, weapons ready. Leading them was James Rhodes, fully armed, eyes hard, moving like a man who hadn't slept in days.
James reached the cave entrance and saw Tony inside the half-finished metal suit.
His relief lasted exactly one second.
Then his expression shifted into disbelief.
He walked up and knocked on the metal with his knuckles.
"Is this some new Middle Eastern torture? What exactly did they do to you?"
Tony's mouth twitched. Even now, James had to make jokes.
"Don't guess wildly," Tony shot back. "This is armor I built. If you came three minutes later, I'd have already walked out wearing it."
James raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.
Tony tried to pull himself out of the armor, but it was awkward and painful. Yinsen rushed forward to help. After a clumsy struggle—metal scraping, bolts catching, Tony cursing under his breath—Tony finally climbed free.
He bumped his shoulder. Hit his elbow. Yelped twice.
And even while rubbing pain out of his joints, his eyes were already calculating improvements.
First thing next time: make putting it on easier. I'm not dying stuck inside my own suit.
James exhaled, then smirked.
"Use it? Are you serious?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"You'll see it in the future."
Then Tony's expression sharpened.
"By the way… how did you find this place?"
Tony had never believed the military would locate him in time. He knew the region. He knew the chaos. He knew how useless intel could be in the desert.
James reached into his gear and pulled out a familiar weapon.
F.R.I.D.A.Y.
Tony's smart pistol.
He held it up like a trophy.
"Thanks to this."
Tony blinked.
The Ten Rings had taken the gun after ambushing him. They couldn't unlock it. They couldn't fire it. So they tossed it into storage like junk.
But the signal…
The signal had kept broadcasting like a quiet lighthouse.
It had guided James to the base.
Tony stared at it and felt a strange warmth in his chest that wasn't coming from the Arc Reactor.
He didn't say it out loud, but a single thought hit him hard:
James saved me… but this gun saved me first.
He gripped the pistol.
Deep inside, he felt gratitude toward the man who created it.
James.
The pistol chirped.
"Fingerprint unlock successful. How may I be of service to you?"
Tony smirked.
"I'd like two cheeseburgers right now."
"One moment. Searching for the nearest burger location."
Tony actually laughed—softly, for the first time in weeks.
"This AI's got the right attitude."
James stared.
"This gun can talk?!"
Tony tucked it away quickly.
"Later. We get out first."
Tony's eyes fell on the Mark I behind him.
Taking it wasn't possible. It was too heavy. Too bulky. Too slow.
Leaving it wasn't an option either.
Not when the Ten Rings could salvage it.
So there was only one choice.
"Blow it up."
James nodded and signaled a soldier.
A grenade clanked to the ground.
Seconds later, the Mark I exploded into shattered steel and scattered parts.
Tony didn't look back.
He stepped outside and let sunlight hit his face like a blessing.
The military had brought overwhelming force. The Ten Rings had no chance. The base was wiped clean in a single brutal sweep.
Up close, the terrorists weren't unstoppable.
They were just men with guns.
And men with guns lose to armies.
James helped Tony onto a helicopter.
The soldiers tried to put Yinsen on another aircraft.
Tony stopped them instantly.
"No. He stays with me."
Tony's voice wasn't loud—but it had the weight of command.
He didn't trust what might happen if Yinsen left his sight. Tony knew the military too well. He knew what "convenient stories" looked like. And he knew Yinsen's identity could become a problem if someone wanted to polish headlines.
So Yinsen stayed beside him.
And Tony returned to America alive.
---
Back In New York
News spread across the world like fire.
Some media outlets that had already printed Tony's obituary looked foolish for about five seconds.
Then they did what the media always does.
They grabbed the new story and screamed it louder.
Obadiah learned the truth only after the rescue became undeniable.
He called his Ten Rings contact, raging so loudly he nearly choked on his own breath. Every foul word he'd ever learned came pouring out.
How could terrorists be this unreliable?
The Ten Rings didn't even argue back.
They only said something about a "big gift," and that was enough to make Obadiah pause and swallow his anger—because in his world, "gift" could mean leverage.
Or danger.
---
Pepper's Call
Inside a hotel suite, James stood on the balcony, phone to his ear, listening to Pepper.
Pepper sounded excited—but also tense.
"Should we go pick up Tony?" she asked.
James's tone stayed calm.
"Forget it. We still haven't dealt with Obadiah."
Pepper hesitated, then exhaled.
"You're right."
She was about to ask more when a woman's voice drifted through the phone—lazy, intimate, and playful.
"Darling… who are you talking to?"
Pepper froze.
James turned slightly, looked toward the bathroom, and raised one finger—wait a second—to the woman who had just walked out wrapped in a towel.
Pepper's voice sharpened.
"James… I remember you said you're single."
"I am single," James replied smoothly.
Pepper inhaled.
"Then who just called you 'darling'?"
James paused like he was thinking deeply.
"Let me think… was her name Jessie? Or Mary?"
He sounded genuinely unsure.
Pepper went silent.
Then her breathing hitched with a familiar kind of irritation.
She had dealt with Tony for years.
And this smelled exactly like Tony.
No wonder Tony was his idol.
They were cut from the same cloth.
Pepper spoke tightly.
"Let Tony handle Obadiah himself. That's between uncle and nephew."
"I agree," James said easily. "Better for outsiders to stay out of it."
Pepper's voice softened, but only slightly.
"I understand."
James ended the call quickly.
"I've got things to handle."
Then he turned back toward the bed and pushed the woman down with a grin.
When his pants were on, he could talk about being noble.
But he wasn't wearing them yet.
And James had already said Tony was his idol.
So clearly… study was required.
---
Tony Arrives
The next day, the transport plane landed in New York.
Pepper and Happy were waiting at the airport.
The cargo door opened slowly.
Tony sat in a wheelchair… until he saw Pepper.
Then he clenched his jaw and stood up like nothing was wrong.
He had showered. Changed into a clean suit. Fixed himself the best he could.
If not for his pale complexion and the slight weakness in his posture, he looked like a man returning from a business trip—not a man who had survived hell.
Yinsen stepped off with him.
Stark Industries' resources made Yinsen's immigration and identity problems easy to solve. Tony simply decided it would be done, and the world bent to match his will.
Tony got into the car with Pepper and finally opened his mouth—
But Pepper interrupted first.
"I have recordings," she said. "You need to hear them."
Tony's expression shifted.
Pepper handed him headphones.
As Obadiah's voice played, Tony's face slowly turned cold.
His eyes hardened into something sharp and unfamiliar.
Tony still held a press conference.
But he no longer cared about cheeseburgers.
And after the conference, he dropped a bomb on the world:
He was shutting down Stark Industries' weapons division.
Inside the company, employees wailed like the world ended.
Because weapons were the pillar.
Without weapons, what would Stark sell?
Baby bottles?
Even Pepper didn't fully understand Tony's thinking.
But James, sitting below the stage, understood at least part of it.
Tony had learned the hard truth: even he couldn't fully control where Stark weapons ended up.
And Tony had also found something else in that cave.
A new tool.
A new path.
A way to enforce his ideals with his own hands.
And this time, he would keep it under his control.
---
Obadiah Confronts Tony
After the press conference, Obadiah found Tony alone.
Even with fury boiling inside him, Obadiah kept his expression smooth. Controlled. Safe.
He spoke like a concerned mentor.
"Are you listening to me, Tony? We make weapons. Always have. If we close weapons, what will we do? Make baby bottles?"
Tony didn't answer.
Instead, he unbuttoned his shirt.
And revealed the miniature Arc Reactor embedded in his chest.
Obadiah's eyes lit up instantly.
He recognized it at once.
Thirty years without breakthroughs… and Tony had done it in a cave.
Obadiah suddenly felt something close to joy.
If Tony had died, Obadiah would have missed this technology that could rewrite the world.
Obadiah leaned forward, voice soft and persuasive.
"Listen, Tony… we're a team. Just like your father and I. Together, nothing can stop us."
Tony looked at him.
Close.
Familiar.
And yet suddenly… like a stranger.
"Understood…" Tony replied quietly.
But inside Tony, something had already snapped into place.
This wasn't just a business fight anymore.
It was betrayal.
And Tony Stark never forgot betrayal.
-------------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon
patreon.com/Samurai492
__________________________________