The desert stretched endlessly under the blazing sun.
Sand shimmered in the heat, wind carried grit across the barren landscape, and loneliness seemed eternal.
Afghanistan.
A land of yellow sand, scorching air, and hidden danger.
Several armed men patrolled along a narrow valley. Their heads were wrapped in scarves, goggles shielded their eyes, rifles clutched tightly in their hands. Watchtowers stood on both sides of the valley, heavy machine guns mounted and ready. Ammunition crates lined the entrance, stacked with grenades, rockets, and spare magazines. Even missiles stood upright under the punishing sun.
This was no ordinary hideout.
It was a fortress — a terrorist base bristling with weapons. A loyal customer of Stark Industries' black-market arms.
Not that Tony Stark had ever approved these sales. No, this was the work of men in the shadows, feeding both sides of every war and dreaming of seizing Tony's empire for themselves.
High on the ridge above the valley, a lone figure stood unnoticed. His expression was calm, mocking.
"Obadiah Stane," he murmured, "if you think you can buy out my shares this cheaply, you've underestimated me."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Ethan summoned a weapon from the void — a black staff, capped with golden bands. The Celestial Staff of the Monkey King.
"Superhero debut?" he said with a smirk. "Nah… sounds cheesy."
Today was not a day for stealth. The Shadow Protocol dropped, revealing his presence to all.
Today was a day to test his powers.
A day to shift the timeline.
A day to remind greedy men why stealing from him was a fatal mistake.
His footsteps carried him down the ridge into the valley.
The sentries spotted him instantly, barking orders in a language Ethan didn't bother to translate. To him, they were already corpses.
Two raised their rifles.
Whoosh!
The Celestial Staff whipped out, faster than lightning. The two men flew backward, slamming into the cliffs with bone-cracking force. He hadn't even swung hard — just enough to avoid blood spraying on his clothes.
The sudden deaths froze the camp. Then chaos erupted.
Gunfire thundered, dozens of rifles blazing in unison. Bullets rained down on Ethan in a storm of metal.
But not one touched him.
Rounds ricocheted harmlessly from his body, some flattening into warped discs, others bouncing away like pebbles. Ethan strolled through the gunfire unscathed, staff resting on his shoulder.
The terrorists faltered, fear spreading through their ranks.
"Monster!"
"It's the devil!"
"He's here to punish us!"
Their leader snarled, silencing panicked men with a shot to the air before hefting a rocket launcher. Bloodshot eyes locked on Ethan.
"Die, demon!"
He fired.
The rocket screamed across the valley. Ethan calmly raised a hand, catching it midair.
"Tch. Explosions are bad for my image."
He flipped it around and released it.
WHOOSH!
The rocket shot back and detonated in the ranks of the terrorists.
BOOM!
The blast ripped through a dozen men, flames rising high, bodies reduced to limbs and ash. Survivors writhed on the ground, screaming in agony.
Ethan twirled his staff. "My turn."
Then he moved.
In an instant, afterimages of Ethan blurred across the valley. Wherever the Celestial Staff struck, men collapsed. Terrorists fell like wheat before the scythe.
When the staff appeared, lives ended.
---
Inside a cave carved into the mountainside, the chaos outside shook the walls.
Tony Stark, half-clad in the crude bulk of the Mark I armor, turned to the man who had saved his life.
"Do we still have time, Yinsen?"
Dr. Ho Yinsen glanced at the laptop progress bar crawling toward completion. His face was calm.
"If those outside are rescuers, Tony… do you really think the terrorists will let you live?"
Tony fell silent. He knew Yinsen was right.
"Stark," Yinsen said quietly, picking up a rifle, "I'll buy you some time."
"No! Yinsen, wait—"
But the doctor was already moving. He fired into the air, forcing back terrorists who charged into the cave. He was a doctor, not a killer. His oath was to save lives, not take them.
"Take care, Stark!"
His figure disappeared into the chaos.
Tony cursed, staring at the progress bar.
"Hurry up… hurry up…"
Finally, the bar hit 100%.
The Mark I came alive. Tony slammed the helmet down, steam hissing as the primitive armor locked into place. He lumbered forward.
The valley outside was silent now. Too silent.
What he saw made his heart sink.
Corpses littered the ground. Weapons burned in scattered fires. The camp was annihilated.
But of Yinsen — there was no sign.
Grief boiled into fury. Tony activated the flamethrower, fire engulfing every last cache of Stark weapons. Then he engaged the fuel jets, the bulky suit blasting skyward.
---
From the shadowed mountainside, Ethan Moore watched the Mark I rise into the sky.
A smile tugged at his lips. "He's safe."
Beside him, Dr. Ho Yinsen stumbled into view. Shaken, alive.
He exhaled and turned to Ethan.
"Sir…"
Ethan grinned, spinning the Celestial Staff in his hand.
The MCU's timeline had just shifted.
.