Of course, none of this would matter if confidentiality failed.
For a project like this, secrecy wasn't optional—it was critical. Once word got out, it wouldn't just attract attention; it would invite interference from every major force in the world. Fortunately, that was one area Locke wasn't too worried about.
With the Stepford Cuckoos handling telepathic oversight, information control would be airtight. Any potential leaks could be detected and shut down before they even spread. In terms of mental security, there were few better safeguards.
Still, when it came to researchers, one name surfaced almost immediately in Locke's mind.
Ethan.
Ethan's entire family had been wiped out by terrorists, leaving him with nothing. Locke had already pulled him out of that cave once, but luck wasn't something you could rely on repeatedly. Just because he survived this time didn't mean he'd survive the next.
And letting a mind like his go to waste?
That would be a mistake.
"Maybe I should just bring him here," Locke muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Once the idea formed, he didn't hesitate.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Tony directly.
At the same time, in a high-tech lab filled with scattered equipment and dim lighting, Tony's phone lay on the ground. It vibrated briefly before automatically connecting the call.
"Hey! Does Uncle Tony remember who I am?" Locke's voice came through, casual and amused.
Silence answered him.
"…Hello?" Locke frowned slightly. "Why isn't anyone picking up?"
Something felt off.
After a brief pause, he shrugged lightly. "Whatever. I'll just check it myself."
The next instant, space twisted.
Locke vanished—and reappeared inside the lab.
The first thing he noticed was the mess.
Tools were scattered, equipment knocked over, and the air carried the faint tension of something that had just gone very wrong. Then his eyes landed on Tony.
He was lying on the floor.
His face had taken on a faint bluish tint, his body barely moving, like someone caught between consciousness and collapse.
Locke raised an eyebrow.
"Did someone just rip out your reactor?" he said, sounding more curious than alarmed.
From what he could piece together, the timing couldn't have been more precise. Obadiah had just taken the arc reactor from Tony's chest, leaving him in a state where death wasn't far behind.
"Hey," Locke said as he crouched down, flipping Tony over. "You still alive?"
Tony's hand trembled weakly, clutching a smaller, older reactor. He was trying to lift it, trying to press it back into his chest with what little strength he had left.
"You planning to use this?" Locke asked, casually taking the device from his hand.
Tony's eyes snapped open slightly, filled with a mixture of desperation and fury.
He couldn't speak.
The infrasound attack had left his body barely responsive, his muscles refusing to cooperate. The fact that he had even managed to crawl this far was already a miracle.
But now, the one thing keeping him alive had just been taken away.
"Hey, don't look at me like that," Locke said with an innocent shrug. "If you want to use it, just say so."
Tony's gaze burned into him, his frustration practically tangible.
Locke, on the other hand, found it amusing.
Messing with Iron Man like this?
That wasn't something you got to do every day.
"Alright, alright," he said eventually, waving a hand dismissively. "Enough messing around."
Then he tossed the reactor aside.
Tony's mind went blank for a moment.
Without that reactor, the shrapnel embedded in his chest would soon reach his heart. When that happened, there would be no saving him.
"Wow… that's nasty," Locke muttered, leaning closer as he examined the exposed cavity in Tony's chest. The yellowish fluid inside made him grimace slightly. "Why would anyone design something like this?"
Without warning, he reached forward and removed the entire mechanism.
The sudden action pushed Tony's already fragile state over the edge. His vision blurred, his consciousness slipping as everything started to go dark.
He was seconds away from death.
Locke didn't delay any further.
Molecular manipulation activated instantly.
The damaged tissue in Tony's chest began to reconstruct at an invisible level. The shrapnel embedded within him was broken down, its structure altered and repurposed into harmless biological components.
Blood cells, proteins, cellular tissue—all rebuilt in perfect synchronization.
In less than a second—
It was done.
Tony's chest was completely restored, as if the injury had never existed.
"Hey," Locke said casually, pouring himself a glass of red wine from a nearby rack. He walked back over and nudged Tony lightly. "Wake up."
Tony's eyes fluttered open, his breathing stabilizing as consciousness returned.
The first thing he did was look down.
His hand moved instinctively to his chest.
No hole.
No device.
No pain.
"I'm… not dead?" he said, his voice still weak, disbelief evident.
"Obviously not," Locke replied, taking a sip of wine as he sat down on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. "You've got me around, remember? But let's not forget—I just saved you again."
Tony didn't respond immediately.
His fingers pressed against his chest again, as if expecting to feel the device, the opening, something. But there was nothing.
He should have been relieved.
Instead, his expression tightened.
Because this created a new problem.
Without the arc reactor in his chest, he couldn't power the suit. The original design depended entirely on that energy source, and there was no time to modify it now.
Locke watched him silently, already understanding the thought process.
Before he could say anything, Tony pushed himself up, urgency replacing confusion.
"Weiss," he said, his voice serious as he stepped closer. "Right now, you're the only one who can save Pepper."
Locke raised an eyebrow slightly. "Sure. But don't forget—"
"As much as you want," Tony interrupted immediately, not even hesitating.
Locke blinked, then chuckled softly.
"No," he said, lifting his glass slightly. "I was just going to say—don't forget to buy me a drink."
For a moment, Tony just stared at him.
Out of everything he could have asked for… that was it?
"Yeah," Tony said after a beat, nodding. "That's not a problem."
Locke set the glass down, standing up in one smooth motion.
"Grab on," he said simply.
Tony didn't waste time. He reached out and grabbed Locke's shoulder firmly.
The next instant—
They disappeared.
....
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