Still grappling with the pull of gravity, Tony pushed his mind to its limits, thinking so intensely it felt like he was teetering on the edge of madness.
Yet, no solution came.
Suddenly, a completely insane idea struck him.
"I'm going to absorb this tornado and force this chaos back to its normal state!" he declared with a nervous laugh, mocking his own audacity.
"This is pure, unadulterated madness," he muttered to himself.
His right arm transformed into the Black Sword, a weapon no longer just an extension of his body but an integral part of his being.
He began to run across a nonexistent ground, where nothing was visible except the tornado and the chaos, held in form by Garde's lightning.
Tony plunged his arm, now the Black Sword, into the tornado, which had grown utterly monstrous.
A wave of chaotic ether, resembling a dark liquid with shimmering reflections, surged into his body.
The fire, once red, had been corrupted into a black flame, consumed by chaos. It burned his mental body so fiercely that the pain wasn't physical—Tony felt as though his very existence, his soul, was ablaze.
Lightning coursed through his mental nerves, triggering uncontrollable spasms.
This pain made him realize that it wasn't his mental body suffering damage, but his spiritual body—his soul.
His spiritual body continued to crack. Beneath his spiritual skin, veins of dark light pulsed, radiating an unsettling energy.
The lightning exploded through his spiritual arms and legs, shattering his perception of time.
He saw visions of himself: dead, inhuman, or transformed into something else, something indefinable.
As he absorbed more and more of the chaos, the black fire seeped into his spiritual torso, heating his core like the heart of a volcano.
The true chaos around him reacted with palpable malevolence.
Waves of darkness rose, taking the shape of indistinct silhouettes with multiple eyes, frozen in place around Tony.
Though he sensed no clear intent from them, Tony was horrified. Deep within, he knew that whatever they did, it would bring him misfortune.
He accelerated the absorption of the tornado, despite the unbearable pain.
Second by second, the tornado shrank in size, but each moment was agony.
As he neared the end, the strange silhouettes began whispering impossible truths, secrets no god should ever hear.
But Tony, driven by unimaginable paranoia, had already mentally blocked his ears, anticipating the horrors he imagined through sheer speculation.
In a final effort, Tony absorbed the entire tornado.
"I can't keep it in my spiritual body, or I'll die!" he cried out.
Suddenly, the voice of the Black Sword resonated, deep and distorted, as if carried by a thousand echoes.
"Use me… seal it… within me."
The sword regained its independent form, and Tony's right arm returned to normal.
A thread of dark light shot from the blade, gently wrapping around Tony's spiritual wrist.
He felt this bond act as a conduit.
The black hole was the true form of the Black Sword when it wasn't sealed.
Using this connection, Tony channeled the tornado through the sword.
The Black Sword sealed the chaos within its depths.
The monstrous form of the chaos vanished, and the space returned to its original state: a sky of deep, shifting black and a watery surface on which Tony walked.
Exhausted, Tony collapsed to the ground. His spiritual body, cracked all over, still held together.
Thanks to the strengthened bond with the Black Sword, he could now leave this place and return to the normal world.
But, feeling an urgent need to recover, he decided to rest before departing, despite the fragile state of his spiritual body.