Ethan's voice came out weak and strained, drawing immediate attention. He was slumped against the rough cave wall, his breathing uneven and his posture off in a way that made it obvious something was seriously wrong. Even in the dim, flickering light of the cave, the deep red spreading across his clothes stood out like a warning sign.
"Ethan!" Tony snapped, rushing over without hesitation. The moment he got close enough to see the wound clearly, his expression changed, the usual sharp confidence replaced by raw concern. "You're hurt."
Ethan gave a faint, almost apologetic smile, his face pale as the color drained from him. He shook his head slightly, as if already accepting the outcome. "Looks like I won't be leaving here with you."
"No," Tony shot back immediately, his voice rising with urgency. There was guilt in his tone, sharp and undeniable. "We said we'd get out together. That wasn't optional."
Locke stood off to the side, watching with a subtle frown. His gaze lingered on the wound, analyzing it with far more precision than the others could. He hadn't even noticed when Ethan got shot. A stray bullet, maybe? One of those ricochets bouncing off Tony's armor at the wrong angle. If that was the case, then this really was just terrible luck.
"I swear, can you two stop acting like this is a farewell scene?" Locke cut in, his tone impatient but not entirely lacking concern.
Tony snapped his head toward him instantly, grabbing onto that interruption like a lifeline. "Can you save him?"
Locke didn't answer right away. He glanced at Ethan again, then tilted his head slightly, as if weighing something. "I can," he said at last, dragging out the words just a little. "But—"
"I'll add another five hundred million dollars," Tony interrupted without a second thought. His voice was firm, absolute. "Save him, and it's yours."
Locke blinked, caught off guard for a brief second. He hadn't even finished his sentence. He was going to say that Ethan's condition depended on whether the man himself wanted to live. But Tony had already slammed down another half-billion like it was spare change.
He really does think money solves everything, huh.
Still, refusing that kind of offer would be ridiculous.
"Deal," Locke said casually.
Before Ethan could even react or object, Locke stepped forward and placed his hand directly over the wound. There was no buildup, no visible energy, no dramatic display. He simply pressed his palm against Ethan's chest with a firm, controlled motion.
A second later, he pulled his hand back as if nothing had happened.
"Done," Locke said lightly, already stepping away. "And just so we're clear, that puts your total at 1.1 billion."
Tony stared at him, completely stunned. That was it? No equipment, no treatment process, no visible change. Just a tap and it was over?
"What… what kind of—"
He stopped mid-sentence as he looked back at Ethan.
The blood was gone.
The torn fabric still remained, but beneath it, there was no wound. No bullet hole. No bleeding. It was as if Ethan had never been shot in the first place.
Ethan himself seemed just as shocked, staring down at his own chest with wide eyes, his breathing gradually stabilizing as the pain vanished.
Tony slowly turned his head back toward Locke, his expression now filled with disbelief. "What the hell was that?"
Locke shrugged, completely unconcerned. "Advanced medical treatment," he said casually, clearly not interested in explaining molecular reconstruction in detail.
In reality, he had already broken the bullet down at the molecular level, dismantling it into harmless components. Then, using the Ultimate Evolution Module-enhanced molecular manipulation, he reconstructed the damaged tissue, replacing blood, proteins, and cellular structures instantly. It wasn't healing in the traditional sense—it was direct reconstruction.
"Enough staring," Locke added, gesturing toward the cave entrance. "Your fan club is here."
Outside, the sound of boots and shouting echoed closer. The terrorists had clearly grown suspicious after waiting too long without any response. Now they were closing in, weapons ready.
Tony's attention snapped back to reality. He glanced down at his armor's energy levels, his expression tightening. "My reactor's almost drained," he said quietly. "I don't have enough power left to deal with all of them."
He looked at Locke, his meaning clear without needing to say it outright.
Locke smirked. "Relax. This part's easy."
He walked straight toward the cave entrance without hesitation.
Tony's eyes widened slightly. "Wait—"
But he didn't get the chance to finish.
The moment Locke stepped outside, the terrorists opened fire.
Gunfire erupted instantly, a storm of bullets tearing through the air toward him. But just before they could reach him, every single round stopped.
Midair.
Suspended like they had hit an invisible wall.
Tony froze at the sight, his breath catching. The sheer number of bullets hanging in front of Locke formed a dense, shimmering barrier, each one trembling slightly as if struggling against an unseen force.
Time seemed to stretch as the gunfire continued, more and more bullets piling up in front of him until the attackers finally emptied their magazines.
Locke raised an eyebrow, glancing at the floating mass with mild amusement.
"Your turn," he said.
With a casual flick of his hand, the entire cluster of bullets reversed direction.
They shot back faster than they had come.
Screams erupted outside the cave, sharp and chaotic. The sound of bodies hitting the ground followed almost immediately, along with the clatter of dropped weapons.
Then, silence.
A heavy, suffocating silence.
Tony didn't need to step outside to know what had happened. The aftermath was obvious from the sounds alone.
"Ethan, let's go," Tony said after a moment, helping him to his feet.
Ethan was still processing what had just happened, but he nodded, leaning slightly on Tony for support as they moved toward the exit.
"Or," Locke cut in, stepping back inside, "we can skip the walking part."
Before either of them could react, he grabbed both of them by the shoulders.
"Let's see… your beach house should be around here."
His eyes flickered for a brief second as he locked onto the destination.
Then space folded.
The cave vanished.
In the next instant, they were standing inside a spacious, elegantly designed villa.
The sudden transition left both Tony and Ethan completely disoriented. One moment they had been in a dark, cramped cave surrounded by danger. The next, they were in a well-lit living room filled with expensive furniture and polished surfaces.
Tony looked around slowly, his expression blank with shock. "What… just happened?"
He took a few steps forward, scanning the room more carefully. Something about it felt familiar.
Too familiar.
"Wait…" he muttered, his voice uncertain. "This is…"
"Your house," Locke confirmed casually, already walking over to the wine rack as if he owned the place.
Tony blinked, still trying to process it. But the more he looked, the more undeniable it became.
This really was his villa.
"How…" he started, but couldn't even finish the question.
Locke didn't bother answering. He grabbed a bottle of red wine, poured himself a glass, and took a relaxed sip.
"Anyway, job's done," he said, setting the glass down afterward. "Don't forget to transfer the 1.1 billion."
He flicked his wrist, leaving behind an account number.
Then he vanished.
Tony stood there for a moment, still stunned, before finally snapping back to reality. The first thing he did was remove the heavy armor, letting it fall away piece by piece.
Then he reached for his phone.
"Pepper," he said the moment the call connected.
Not long after, Pepper Potts arrived at the villa, her usual composed demeanor completely gone. Her eyes were slightly red, her breathing uneven as she rushed inside.
"Tony!" she called out, spotting him immediately.
There were a thousand things she wanted to say, questions and anger and relief all tangled together. But when she saw him standing there, alive, everything else broke apart.
"Why are you here? We've been searching everywhere…" Her voice trembled as tears started to fall.
Tony looked at her quietly for a moment, something in his expression softer than it had ever been before. The usual arrogance was gone, replaced with a calm he hadn't had in years.
"I'm back," he said simply, opening his arms.
Pepper didn't hesitate. She rushed forward and threw herself into his embrace, holding onto him tightly as if afraid he might disappear again.
But then she noticed it.
The device embedded in his chest.
Her relief immediately shifted into concern. "Tony… we need to go to the hospital."
"No," Tony said, shaking his head.
"Tony, this isn't optional," she insisted, pulling back slightly to look at him. "You need medical attention right now."
"I said no." His voice was firm, but not dismissive. Just… certain.
Pepper frowned, clearly not willing to back down. "Don't be ridiculous. You've been through—"
"I was locked up for three months," Tony interrupted, his tone steady. "Right now, all I want is an American cheeseburger."
Pepper opened her mouth to argue again, already anticipating his usual behavior.
"And something else," Tony added.
"No," she cut in immediately, shaking her head. "You are not throwing a party."
Tony met her eyes, completely serious.
"I'm holding a press conference," he said.
Pepper froze, clearly caught off guard by the answer.
....
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