….
Moving ahead, Jin-Ho stepped forward as if he were strolling through a park rather than advancing into a gunfight in a terrorist-infested cave.
Around him, tools hovered in a deadly halo - hammers, welding rigs, scrap plates, all rotating with mechanical precision.
A mental shield in front of him - an invisible force field.
Even the overconfident teenager knew better than to walk into crossfire completely naked.
"Huh…" He sighed, fully intending what he was about to do. "I just hope I don't puke in the middle of this. Wouldn't exactly look cool."
Before he could dwell on it further, four terrorists stepped into view.
There was no warning, or hesitation - just a flash, and each took a bullet before they even had time to react.
Holes appeared in their bodies, they crumpled, lifeless, without a sound.
"The aim could use some work." Jin-Ho asses, inspecting his weapons. "Guess I will add that to my to-do list."
And in that moment, another truth settled in: he felt nothing.
This was his first time killing people, real humans, yet there wasn't even a flicker of hesitation. Maybe it was because he had already cut down goblins before. To him, these terrorists weren't much different. Just a few feet taller, and their blood was red instead of green. That was the only distinction he noticed.
As he stepped forward again. The arsenal around him shifted: normal tools disappeared, replaced with rifles, pistols, and heavier weapons he picked up. Every once the bullets finish, he throws the guns at the guards vitals, knocking them out, and picks a new one.
It was a slaughter.
But Jin-Ho felt it, the drain and the exhaustion creeping in with each movement.
"Five minutes." He assessed. But he tried to push away the hitting fatigue. "...and seven minutes if I push too hard."
WHOOSH!
Just then, a rocket launcher was fired at him.
"Oh, come on."
For a heartbeat, the formation stuttered. Barrels drifted out of sync; a dozen guns tumbled to the floor, clattering uselessly.
This was turning harder than he had expected.
Back 'home', a single word - Statue - and goblins froze like puppets.
But now, having to hold dozens of rifles in motion, tracking moving targets, and squeezing triggers while trying to aim? That demanded a completely different kind of focus.
"Serves me right for getting cocky."
He threw both hands forward and seized the incoming rocket in mid-flight with a sudden, violent tug of telekinesis, fingers of force closing around the missile like a clamp. With a flip of his wrists he sent it spinning back down the tunnel.
"Return to sender - express delivery!" He called, half-joking.
The rocket detonated on contact - a blast rolled through the cave and the sound punched at Jin-Ho's chest.
He let himself a small, exhausted grin as dust rained down.
But the victory felt thin - maybe due the fancy move he just pulled, his reserves were bleeding away more quicker.
The edges of his vision slightly blurred, his hands trembled with effort - but he shook it off and pushed on, the exit was in sight.
One by one he cleared the path, making sure there were no surprises left between him and the cave mouth.
….
Meanwhile, back in the lab, Tony and Yinsen's eyes stayed fixed on the flickering laptop screen.
The final line of code executed, and the bar on Tony's HUD jumped - 100%.
Systems locked in and hydraulics hissed alive, and the sound of steel shifting and plates tightening filled the cavern.
Outside, the rattle of gunfire hadn't stopped since Jin-Ho left.
"Rat-a-tat-tat!"
Each burst echoed off the stone, and with every volley Tony's heart pounded harder inside the iron cage of the suit.
Then the sound of boots - heavy, rushing closer.
A voice barked, loud but trembling. "Open the door! Now! Don't—don't try anything stupid!"
Jin-Ho had been thorough, but he hadn't realized the cave had more than one path. Still, he had bought them time - maybe more than enough.
Another voice followed, harsher but cracking at the edges. "We know you are in there! Do as we say, or we will burn this place down!"
Tony couldn't make out the words, but the tone was clear - meant to intimidate, yet betraying fear.
"Yinsen, take the shield and stay hidden, also keep fifteen feet back at all times." Tony ordered, finally understanding why Jin-Ho had insisted on just one extra plate.
The guards slammed rifle butts against the door, metal booming.
"Last chance! Open it!"
Then, nervously, they pushed inside, rifles raised.
Smoke curled around their feet as they stepped into the oppressive dark.
The lab seemed deserted, but the air was thick and oppressive.
Then one of them froze, his eyes widened.
In the shadows - two faint flames glowed as the hiss of pressurized hydraulics filled the silence.
"UUHHHggg…!"
The scream of surging metal followed, and in an instant the two guards were flung back out of the entrance, their screams torn from their throats.
The others panicked and free fired wildly into the blackness.
Sparks ricocheted against stone, bullets shredding smoke.
But then came the sound - heavy, grinding, relentless footsteps, growing louder with each step.
Through the haze, a glowing chest plate emerged - blue light flickered against the smoke and pilot flames danced on shoulders and wrists.
The nightmare vision stepped out of the shadows.
Iron Man.
The Original Gray Armor.
Crude, hulking, forged of gray steel, yet unstoppable.
The insurgents backpedaled, firing in terror, but–
Tony kept moving towards the exit, towards the light of freedom, as guards spilled out of nooks, in front of him, behind him, firing relentlessly.
His arms swivel, knocking guards down, absorbing countless rounds. The suit is shredding, smoking, and pockmarked, while Yinsen walked a little further in the back than usual with a shield.
Somehow, an insurgent jumps from a side-corridor, firing his pistol point-blank at the back of Iron Man's head.
PING!
The bullet ricochets back, killing the man instantly.
….
With the last of the chamber silent, Yinsen moved cautiously to Tony's side, still maintaining his shield, his steps hesitant but steady.
It was time to push deeper, toward the main chamber.
But the short walk from the lab to the open cavern told them more than words ever could.
The ground was littered with bodies, blood pooling in uneven streams.
None of it was Tony's doing.
"This kid…" Tony murmured, almost to himself, eyes wide as they stepped over another corpse. "He really made a mess."
Yinsen couldn't even reconcile it - the same boy who joked with half-hearted smiles, who seemed almost careless, had done this.
He struggled for words.
"We should… we should find Jin-Ho." He finally managed.
Tony gave a sharp nod.
They pressed forward.
A few scattered guards leapt from cover in desperation, but Tony swatted them down with mechanical ease.
The cavern was a massacre, a real one - and now, at last, another figure in armor had joined the field.
….
By the moment Jin-Ho reached the end of the cave, a roaring flame burst toward him, the heat washing over like an open furnace.
He jerked his hands up, halting the inferno midstream, but even then tongues of fire licked close enough to singe him.
Cloth blackened, smoke curled off his sleeve, and a patch of his shirt smoldered into flame.
Jin-Ho slapped at it casually, brushing off the embers.
"Seriously?" He deadpanned. "A flamethrower, and right at my face?"
The wide-eyed terrorist behind the nozzle looked increasingly desperate, his finger probably cramping on the trigger.
"Awesome job holding it together until now, kid." Right then, from behind Jin-Ho, came a familiar voice, dripping with paternal authority. "Now let the adults deal with adult problems."
Jin-Ho was exhausted. "About time, old man. Thought you were gonna let me do all the heavy lifting."
The distinctive sound of heavy metal footsteps echoed through the cave - clank, clank, clank - like a mechanical giant learning to walk.
From the shadows came the grinding steps of iron on stone. Tony emerged, encased in the crude but terrifying bulk of the Mark I, Yinsen trailing behind him with a rifle clenched tight in trembling hands, equal parts fear and resolve.
The flamethrower's roar sputtered into silence, its wielder frozen. Jin-Ho caught the look in the terrorist's eyes - pure, unfiltered despair.
Tony didn't slow. He brushed past Jin-Ho, the heavy plates of his armor scraping faintly as he raised a single gauntleted hand–
"Now it's my turn. You think you can bully my kid?"
The terrorist didn't even manage a scream before he collapsed into nothing but ash and char.
Jin-Ho gave a long, low whistle. "Well… that's one way to wrap things up. Overkill? Maybe. Effective? Definitely."
Around him, the last of the weapons he had been holding midair clattered to the floor in a metallic rain.
His shoulders sagged as fatigue caught up with him, but there was no hesitation in his eyes. His first human massacre, and all he could think was how strangely… easy it had been mentally.
"Note to self." He muttered under his breath, tugging at his scorched sleeve. "Next time - fireproof clothes. Priority number one."
Tony's helmet shifted, his gaze fixing on the boy. A beat of silence, then a wry, almost grudging note in his tone.
"Kid, you just earned yourself a place in this crazy mess. Welcome to the team."
….
.
[To be continued…]
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