The scorching heat seared the endless expanse of the Rub' al Khali desert.
Dizziness and delirium crept in with every faltering step, the kind that blurred the line between hallucination and reality. This barren region in the northernmost part of the Middle Eastern wasteland was utterly lifeless no shelter, no water, no salvation.
A desperate, emaciated figure trudged onward beneath the blistering sun.
His face pale, eyes bloodshot, and steps unsteady on the shimmering sand, Tony Stark—the former billionaire genius, once adorned in suits of cutting-edge armor—no longer felt like Iron Man. He didn't even feel human.
"Tap… Tap…"
Two whole days. No water. No food. His arc reactor still glowing faintly was the only sign that anything inside him still functioned. He was on the verge of complete systemic failure.
Hunger gnawed. Thirst stabbed. Weakness pressed down like the gravity of a dying star.
This was worse than his captivity in the Afghan cave with Yinsen. Then, at least, he had a mission. Now, there was only sand. And death.
For the first time, Tony understood the cruelty of Earth's sun. No solar-powered armor now. Just flesh, bone, and regrets, roasting under ultraviolet rays that turned the golden dunes into molten waves.
There were no glamorous Malibu parties. No Pepper. Not even a scorpion dared tread this hellscape.
He had wrapped his head like a Berber nomad, but even that failed to shield his skin from sunburn. It cracked, peeled, burned.
Was this how it ended?
Would there be a state funeral? A tribute at the Avengers Tower? Or just a stock market dip and another Stark Industries press release?
Tony opened his mouth. It was dry as oxidized titanium. He tried to speak perhaps one final word but only fragmented, garbled syllables escaped, as though he were trying to whisper a name.
Was it Rhodey? Pepper? Peter?
His vision flickered like a failing HUD. And then
"Plop!"
The desert spun. Tony's body collapsed, tumbling down a dune. Eyes shut. Limbs motionless.
He was down. This time, it felt final.
The sky above blurred into a golden fog.
Time passed—or it didn't.
It felt like rebirth. Like he was back in the womb. Surrounded by liquid, swaddled in warmth. A deep, pulsing fluid cradled him. Amniotic-like.
"Gululu…"
Was this death? Or some Dragon Ball-style reincarnation?
No. This wasn't Other World. There was no King Yemma waiting with a verdict. Just the bizarre sensation of fluid in his ears, pressure in his chest, and the sound of machines humming.
Then shock.
Water surged up his sinuses, invading the Eustachian tubes, flooding his nasal cavity.
Tony's eyes snapped open.
No womb. No afterlife.
He was submerged in a healing tank, suspended in transparent liquid a Capsule Corporation-style rejuvenation chamber, eerily similar to the ones used on Namek after Goku's battle with Captain Ginyu.
But the scenery? It wasn't alien.
It was luxurious. Five-star, penthouse-level design. A fusion of Japanese minimalism and New York modernism. Light diffused gently through recessed fixtures. The bed was a platform model, flanked by a gravity-suspended wardrobe and an automated bar that reminded him of Happy's best nights.
Tony blinked. This had to be a simulation.
The last thing he remembered was collapsing in the desert possibly after escaping a Ten Rings cell. But this?
The clear glass in front of him shimmered.
He was alive.
"Drip. Drip. Drip."
The chamber activated. A digital prompt blinked from red to green. Water drained below him. A low hiss accompanied the transition.
"Gululu."
Tony gasped.
Liquid receded. His feet touched solid ground. For the first time in days weeks? he felt real support.
Around him: manicured greenery, simulated daylight, no signs of captivity. Whoever owned this place had serious money and even more advanced tech than Stark Industries' R&D labs.
His limbs felt light. Too light.
Tony moved his arms. No pain. No dehydration. No strain. In fact, his skin felt smoother than it ever had like he'd stepped out of a rejuvenation spa in West City.
He reached for his face. Peeled off the oxygen mask.
"What the hell?"
He checked himself no abrasions, no fatigue. Then, with instinctive paranoia, he tugged open his shirt and saw it: the Ark Reactor embedded in his chest. Still operational. Still glowing.
"This isn't a dream."
His heart sank. The desert. The collapse. It all happened.
But the water still clung to him. He pinched a droplet. Sniffed.
Not just water. Something more some kind of regenerative compound. Possibly synthetic. Possibly Saiyan-designed. It reminded him of the green fluid in the healing pods that restored Vegeta after his defeat on Earth.
"Ssshhh…"
The glass panel rose with a hiss.
Tony snapped to alertness.
The chamber, roughly 50 square meters, was silent but for mechanical clicks. He studied its structure: triple-reinforced alloy frame, liquid dispersal system, biometric sensors.
Automatic opening. No restraints. No surveillance.
He stepped out.
The living room felt… untouched. A flatscreen flickered quietly. News played:
"Good morning, New Yorkers! Today's top stories—Dr. Breezeff, CEO of Capsule Corporation, confirms acquisition of Pym Technologies! Former founder Dr. Hank Pym and his daughter Hope Van Dyne will retain 35% equity. In related news, Breezeff's son-in-law, Kalroth El, has been named CEO "
Tony froze.
Capsule Corporation? That wasn't a name from his world. That was Bulma's company. From Dragon Ball. He remembered her tech from old SHIELD multiverse briefings—one of the few companies with technology that could rival, or even surpass, Stark Industries.
" and for the first time, the Universal Capsule will be released for public use…"
"Meanwhile, Stark Industries stock has stabilized after Tony Stark's four-month disappearance. Interim CEO Obadiah Stane and assistant Pepper Potts have issued a joint statement…"
Tony's heart thudded. Four months?
What the hell had happened? Had the worlds merged?
Or had someone brought him here from the Marvel Universe to this one?
He looked at the screen, then at his hands. Smooth. Strong. No scars. He was in peak condition.
Whatever this place was, one thing was certain:
Tony Stark was back.
And the game had changed.