….
The battle had reached a brutal peak.
Tony, battered and bleeding inside the Mark I, had been pushing his suit beyond its limits - but it wasn't enough for what was coming.
This fight was never meant to be three against dozens.
Tony's original plan was simple: distract the enemy long enough for Jin-Ho and Yinsen to hijack a jeep and escape while he ensured no one was tailing them.
Then, after a few minutes, when the field cleared Tony would fire himself skyward to regroup later.
But not one thing had gone according to plan. From Jin-Ho showing his power to Yinsen getting shot, the entire sequence had unraveled.
Now, the battlefield lay open and scorched, but there was no time to worry about plans. Because a deep, metallic rumble tore through the air - a sound worse than any gunfire.
A Panzer.
It rolled into view, churning sand and earth beneath its treads.
The tanked beast carved tracks across the sand, and standing proud atop it was none other than Raza himself, his other minion leaned forward, grinning with malice.
From the cave's mouth, Jin-Ho cursed under his breath.
Then louder, shouting across the desert. "Hey, old man! Didn't you say you wanted to kill him? He is yours. Do something!"
Yinsen, bleeding and barely conscious, could only look down weakly. But Tony was already turning, his voice rasping through the speaker grill.
"Yeah, he is all mine." But then, with his trademark smirk, he added. "Hey, kid. You think you can lift a tank?"
Jin-Ho didn't hesitate. "One day I will move the fucking moon out of its orbit. This chunk of metal isn't a big deal."
The Panzer's barrel swung, locking onto them. Jin-Ho felt the pressure, the aim not on Tony where it belonged, but on him.
The one person who couldn't move.
Tony almost laughed. "I know I can cou—"
"I need time to concentrate." Jin-Ho cut him off sharply, fists clenched. "If I move even once, I will have to start over."
Tony's voice came flat. "Then we can't have that, can we?"
Jin-Ho's focus sharpened instantly, his whole body tightening, veins pulsing with unspent energy from [Rooster Talisman].
Tools, scrap metal, weapons - all began to vibrate around him.
But the Panzer kept coming.
Faster now.
Its turret swiveled, aiming still locking onto Jin-Ho and the man behind him.
If it had aimed at Tony, the suit could have dodged.
But this was Jin-Ho, he was rooted in place, utterly vulnerable.
The Panzer fired.
Tony didn't hesitate. "Sorry, kid."
He stepped forward, squared into the Panzer's aim, and took the shell head-on. The impact detonated like thunder, flames swallowing him whole.
The blast hurled him back across the sand like a ragdoll, the Mark I screeching as its joints tore under the strain. Inside, Tony felt the shock rattle through every bone before he crashed hard, rolling across the desert in a trail of sparks and twisted metal.
Jin-Ho staggered, a stream of blood running from the corner of his mouth. His legs trembled but held, his eyes burning with resolve.
At last, his skill advanced to Level 2.
◤-----------------------◥
「Skills:」
-> [Telekinesis] Level 2(Proficiency 0.8%)
◣-----------------------◢
And the proficiency continued climbing at an astonishing pace.
But Jin-Ho barely registered it, slowly, his feet lifted from the ground.
With a thunderous clap, he slammed his palms together. Veins bulged across his arms as raw force erupted from him. The Panzer screamed under invisible pressure, its thick steel hull groaning.
Plates buckled, armor crumpled inward like tin crushed in a giant's fist. It didn't fold neat or clean, but the men inside were ground to pulp before they could even scream.
"...scary, kid…" Tony muttered from where he lay, groaning as sparks spat from his chest plate.
He tried to push himself up but couldn't.
Above him, Jin-Ho coughed harshly, blood flecking his lips. His face was ghostly pale, but he brushed it off with the back of his hand, eyes locked on the field.
He wasn't done.
The stragglers, men scrambling to reload, to regroup, to hope for survival, barely lifted their rifles before the air itself turned against them.
Jin-Ho unleashed everything.
The air warped around him, weapons ripped from hands and turned into bullets of their own. Guns, knives, even shattered debris spun like shrapnel, guided with terrifying precision.
Bodies dropped in rapid succession, one after another, until silence reigned.
The sand was dark with blood and scorched black with ash.
Tony forced himself onto shaky feet, dragging one boot through the sand. He looked up at the boy hanging in the air.
Jin-Ho floated, a faint green aura radiating around him, blonde hair lifting weightlessly as if even gravity dared not touch him.
It was a sight too impossible for Tony to ignore.
Dragging his feet closer, he muttered under his breath, half in awe, half in disbelief. "If you claimed to be a god right now, I would let it slide for once…"
And then, within the span of two minutes, it was over.
Every hostile lay dead. The desert battlefield was nothing but corpses, fire, and silence.
Jin-Ho dealt with the last man and then his body gave out.
The aura flickered and vanished, and he dropped like a stone.
Tony stumbled forward and caught him before he hit the ground.
The cost was carved into him - his breath ragged, his skin clammy, his entire body trembling from exhaustion.
For all his power, he now looked worse off than either Tony or Yinsen.
Tony cradled the boy, forcing his own battered body upright on one knee.
His gaze swept the carnage, then up to the cave's mouth where Yinsen slumped against the rock, half-conscious, one hand pressed weakly to his bleeding side.
Tony's jaw tightened. He hauled Jin-Ho against his chest, dragged himself toward the cave, and reached Yinsen.
With one last grunt, he pulled the older man down from the ledge, nearly collapsing under the combined weight.
"Hold on." Tony rasped, locking his gauntlets around both of them.
His suit groaned, thrusters whining weakly as if sharing his exhaustion, and with all three barely alive, he prepared for one last escape.
The Mark I's thrusters ignited, battered but still functioning, his HUD beeped warnings, systems failing, but he ignored them.
Repulsor Blasts roared beneath Tony's feet, providing propulsion as he carried Jin-Ho and Yinsen skyward.
The desert shrank beneath them - then, too soon, the fuel choked out.
The suit sputtered, lost balance, and then crashed across the desert like a meteor, sliding nearly a kilometer before skidding to a halt.
Above them, the sun blazed, and the air was thick with smoke.
Tony lay still inside the suit, the ground trembling under him. Jin-Ho sagged against him, Yinsen leaning heavily as well.
The plan had been broken from the first step, somehow, against all odds, they were still alive.
But at a cost none of them could yet measure.
But even in the worst situation Tony couldn't help it. "Next time, I am adding a parachute."
Yep, he is out of fuel, and could foresee the free falling - he immediately focused on trying to get a landing as safe as he could possibly get.
….
Now, a mile away from the battlefield, the three of them lay scattered in the sand where they had crash-landed.
The wreck of the Mark I burned faintly in the distance.
Tony groaned and pushed himself up on one elbow, his armor was ruined but not him - not entirely.
His chest heaved under the weight of the Arc Reactor, but its glow told him he was still alive.
He crawled to Yinsen first, pressing two fingers to his neck.
The pulse was weak, but it was there. Relief washed through him, even if he had no idea how long it would last.
Jin-Ho had landed a few meters away, face buried in the sand.
"Cough, cough…!!" For a moment he was still, then he jolted awake with a ragged breath, coughing up grit.
His eyes darted around, unfocused, then settled on Tony and Yinsen.
Both alive. He exhaled shakily.
The low-level healing talisman he had thrown onto Yinsen at the last second glimmered faintly under the man's torn shirt.
It wasn't much, but it was keeping him alive.
Jin-Ho planted a hand in the sand and tried to stand, his knees almost buckled.
"Careful, kid." Tony forced himself upright.
"Look, who is talking? Like, can you even walk?" Jin-Ho, still battered, also forced himself onto his feet.
He wasn't a normal human. A [B-rank] Hunter, with peak human body. But again, the internal damages he sustained are pretty serious even for him.
"Barely." Tony admitted, groaning as he tried a step. He looked like a man stitched together with grit and duct tape.
But Yinsen wasn't going to move on his own.
Without a word, Jin-Ho crossed to him and bent down.
He slid an arm under Yinsen and hoisted him up effortlessly, adjusting the unconscious man's weight on his shoulder.
Tony opened his mouth - maybe to object, maybe to joke - but Jin-Ho cut him off with a flat, cold voice.
"Don't… Please."
They began to walk.
The desert stretched endlessly before them, waves of heat rising from the golden dunes.
Freedom in the middle of nowhere was a cruel joke.
The sun beat down mercilessly, and the sand seemed to go on forever.
Behind them lay the carcass of Tony's suit, blackened and broken, its purpose fulfilled.
Now came the harder part.
Tony stumbled forward, each step a fight.
Every muscle screamed in protest.
The suit had saved his life, but it hadn't been easy on his body.
He clutched his chest where the Arc Reactor pulsed weakly, keeping the shrapnel at bay.
Beside him, Jin-Ho kept a steady pace despite the uneven breathing and the blood dried against his lips. He carried Yinsen as if refusing to acknowledge the weight.
….
After a while, Jin-Ho broke the silence. "So what's the master plan, genius? Walk until one of us keels over?"
Tony swiped sweat from his brow. "Plan A was the suit. Plan B was a jeep. Plan C was not having a tank show up. We are on… Plan D."
"Translation?"
"Walk until we find civilization… or die trying."
Jin-Ho huffed, somewhere between a laugh and disbelief. "Love the optimism. Really inspiring."
….
They trudged on.
Minutes felt like hours under the heat.
Then, on Jin-Ho's shoulder, Yinsen stirred. His eyes cracked open, just enough to see Tony limping beside them.
"You should… leave me." Yinsen croaked. His voice was shredded, a dry rasp carried by the desert wind. "Leave me here. Save yourselves."
Jin-Ho stayed silent, too weak to argue.
Tony didn't even look at him. "Come on… Yinsen, you are gonna go see your family, don't give up."
"My family…" Yinsen whispered, eyes glassy. "My family is gone. Dead. I am going to see them now, Stark."
Tony stopped for a beat, his chest felt heavier than the desert air. He remembered the night Yinsen had told him about his wife, his children, and the city - Gulmira.
He had promised to get him back.
Now he understood.
His weapons, his company and his name. All of it had circled back to the same terror that had taken Yinsen's family.
Now it seems… Yinsen had never planned to return.
"…Don't do this." Tony said, voice cracking sharper than he meant. "Don't you dare pull this noble crap on me. You think I came this far just to bury you in the sand?"
Yinsen smiled faintly, lips trembling. "It's okay. It's what I want. My family is waiting. I just wanted to keep you alive… long enough to finish the suit. To get out."
Tony shook his head violently. "No. No, that's not how this goes. You don't get to—" He bit down on the words, breath heaving.
"Thank you." Yinsen whispered. His eyes were wet, but not with weakness. "Thank you for saving me."
Tony swallowed hard, rage and grief mixing in his chest.
"Don't waste it." Yinsen murmured. "Don't waste your life."
His hand twitched against Jin-Ho's arm, a final effort.
Then, with a flicker of humor that was somehow worse than silence, Yinsen smirked weakly.
"Besides… you are not a man who has everything and nothing anymore." His gaze shifted to Jin-Ho. "You have the kid. And me too… if I had made it alive."
That broke Jin-Ho's patience.
"The same death speech again?" He snapped. "After all the shit I just pulled to keep you alive? You want to die, fine. But don't you dare do it in front of me. You want to give up, go crawl into a corner somewhere else. I hate this crap."
Yinsen actually laughed - a weak, rattling sound, but genuine.
"Jin-Ho…" He coughed, a trace of blood on his lip. "You are a good kid."
"Yeah, well." Jin-Ho muttered, tightening his grip around him. "Good kids don't let old men run their mouths like idiots. So shut up and hang on."
The three of them walked on, shadows stretched long across the burning sand, the sun sinking lower behind them.
….
.
[To be continued…]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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