Inside the second cargo container, Kuro sat beside Tony Stark, who lay on a mattress covered with a warm blanket.
A lantern with a diamond core was the only source of light, casting a faint glow across the cramped space.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Kuro studied Tony's face, then gave a crooked smile.
Before speaking, he applied a Projection spell to his own face—still imperfect, but enough to suppress his overly striking presence.
"Hey…" he said casually. "Wake up, Mr. Billionaire, how long are you planning to keep unconscious?"
For a few seconds, there was no response.
Then—Tony's eyelids twitched.
His breathing shifted.
Slowly, his eyes opened.
"…If this is a dream…" his voice was hoarse, barely audible. "…I'm complaining. The set design is too cheap."
His gaze was still blurry, but he was clearly trying to focus on Kuro.
"And you…" he continued weakly, "…you're not the kind of hallucination I usually order."
He blinked once, managing a faint smirk despite his condition.
"…Where am I?"
Kuro briefly closed his eyes, his smile still lingering.
"On the bad side—you're still in the desert in Afghanistan," he said lightly, "and on the good side, I found you buried unconscious since this afternoon."
He spread his arms slightly, as if presenting the cramped container.
"This place is a cargo container I'm using as a temporary shelter. It's normal for it to have a minus-five-star rating."
Kuro opened his eyes again, looking at Tony Stark still lying on the mattress.
His right hand moved casually, pointing at himself.
"And… by the way, my name is Kuro Tokito. Just call me Kuro."
A brief silence followed.
Tony stared at him for a few seconds, processing.
"…Kuro," he repeated quietly.
He took a deep breath—slightly strained.
"Afghanistan desert, cheap cargo container, a stranger suddenly acting as a savior…"
The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
"…I have to admit, this isn't a scenario I usually find myself in."
His gaze shifted as he tried to assess his own condition.
His hand rose to his chest, touching the reactor embedded there—instinctively, almost as if confirming something that should never have changed.
He pressed lightly, testing. No surge of pain followed.
He exhaled slowly—half relief, half lingering suspicion.
"…Okay," he muttered softly.
His hands lowered slowly, then he moved his shoulders, stretching his muscles as if to make sure everything was still functioning properly.
There was no pain that should have been there.
And that alone felt… wrong.
His gaze shifted toward Kuro.
This time, it wasn't just a glance—it was an assessment.
"A simple question," he said, his tone light again, typical of him.
"How long was I out?"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Because if it's only been a few hours… then I've got a lot of questions. And that usually means bad news for the people around me."
Kuro raised a brow slightly, then let out a calm sigh.
"Just a few hours," he replied casually. "If my guess is right, you just escaped from somewhere unpleasant… then collapsed before you could get far."
He glanced briefly at Tony Stark's body, making sure his condition was still stable.
"And yeah—you were alone when I found you," he added flatly.
A brief silence.
Tony's gaze tightened slightly.
"…Right," he murmured softly, as fragments of memory began to piece themselves together.
"I escaped…" his breath hitched slightly, "…using… something I hadn't even properly tested yet."
He closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw clenching.
"…Yinsen…"
The name came out quietly.
Silence followed again.
Then Tony opened his eyes, staring at the dim ceiling of the cargo container.
"…So I actually made it out," he said at last, his voice steadier now—though something heavy lingered underneath it.
He turned his head toward Kuro.
"…And you found me before I ended up as desert scrap."
The corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
"…I hate that I have to say this, but… thanks."
Kuro's smile softened slightly.
"You're welcome…"
A brief pause.
His gaze narrowed a little, as if carefully choosing his words.
"And… Tony-san," he continued cautiously, "would you mind if we left the desert together?"
He exhaled lightly.
"The thing is… even though I know this is Afghanistan, I don't know the exact location."
A small beat.
"In other words… I'm lost."
Silence.
Tony Stark stared at him for a few seconds—then let out a short breath that almost sounded like a faint laugh.
"…You're serious?" he muttered.
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again.
"Let me get this straight… I get kidnapped, locked in a cave, forced to build weapons… escape in scrap metal… crash in the middle of the desert…"
The corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"…and the guy who finds me is also lost."
A brief silence.
"…Perfect."
Tony exhaled, then looked back at Kuro—this time more focused.
"Then again… I'm not exactly in a position to be picky," he admitted honestly.
He shifted slightly, suppressing the lingering pain in his body.
"If you've got a way out of here, I'm in."
A short pause.
His eyes narrowed slightly, a familiar spark of analysis returning.
"…Just hope your 'lost' status doesn't mean you've been walking us deeper into the desert."
Kuro paused for a moment, thinking.
"My plan was to wait for a military rescue team that would eventually pick you up," he said casually. "But the chances of them showing up tomorrow morning…"
He tilted his head slightly.
"…are around 98.9% not happening."
Silence again.
Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Kuro snapped his fingers. A bottle of mineral water materialized from a faint ripple in space beside him.
Without saying much, he placed it next to Tony Stark.
Tony stared at the bottle.
Then at Kuro's hand.
Then back at the bottle.
Silence filled the room again for a few seconds.
"…Okay."
He slowly picked it up, still giving Kuro an odd look.
"I'm not sure what's more insane…" he muttered, "the fact I almost died in a desert…"
He opened the bottle and took a sip—his breathing finally stabilizing a little.
"…or the fact you just pulled bottled water out of thin air."
He paused, looking at it again.
"…And it's cold."
Tony exhaled slowly, then looked at Kuro—his gaze had changed. Sharper. More focused.
No longer just a man who had survived death, but an engineer dissecting something that refused to make sense.
"Alright."
His voice dropped, serious.
"Explain it."
Kuro simply shrugged lightly, as if the topic were no more complicated than a casual street conversation.
"You might find this hard to believe, but in short—it's magic," he said casually. "And what you saw earlier is basically a reality-based storage system. I've been storing too many things for a long time, so… we've got plenty of resources."
Silence.
Tony stared at him.
For a long time.
A very long time.
His expression went blank—not because he didn't understand, but because too many things refused to fit into any category he knew.
"…I'm severely dehydrated," he said at last, quietly. "I've taken a head injury. And there's a high chance my brain is currently generating some top-tier hallucinations."
He nodded slightly, as if confirming his own hypothesis.
"…That's the most rational explanation so far."
A brief pause.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly—his trademark sarcasm slowly returning.
"…But if this is a hallucination…"
He raised the water bottle in his hand, staring at it for a moment.
"…I hope it doesn't end too soon."
His gaze returned to Kuro—this time more alive. Not believing, but… intrigued.
Because for someone like Tony, miracles weren't meant to be believed in—they were meant to be разобbed apart.
Kuro chuckled softly.
"I knew you'd say that," he said lightly. "Unfortunately, this isn't a hallucination, Tony-san."
He stood up, then snapped his fingers again—the space beside him rippled faintly, and instantly a mattress, blanket, pillow, and bolster appeared near Tony Stark.
Without much explanation, Kuro immediately lay down.
Pulled the blanket over himself.
Closed his eyes.
"I'm going to sleep for a bit," he murmured casually. "Tomorrow we'll build a transmitter together, then get out of this desert."
Without waiting for a response, the diamond lamp inside the cargo slowly dimmed.
Silence returned.
Tony Stark stared at Kuro, who was already asleep—long.
Very long.
"…Wow," he muttered quietly.
He glanced around the cargo—the suddenly appeared mattress, the dimmed diamond light, and the sound of someone's calm breathing… far too relaxed for a situation like this.
"…I got rescued by the most chill person on the planet."
Tony let out a slow breath, then tried to lift his body slightly—wincing as pain flared through him.
"So tomorrow we build a transmitter…" he murmured quietly.
He stared up at the ceiling of the cargo.
"…Yeah, sure. Why not just build a rocket home while we're at it."
A brief pause.
His hand was still holding the water bottle.
Real.
Cold.
He exhaled again—longer this time.
"…Magic, huh…"
His gaze shifted back toward Kuro.
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
Then the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.
"…If this is a dream… I've gotta admit, it's getting interesting."
Slowly, Tony closed his eyes.
Not fully asleep—but enough to rest.
On the other side, even though Tony believed Kuro had already fallen asleep, he wasn't truly unconscious.
His breathing was steady—almost too steady.
But his awareness was still present.
A quiet exhale slipped out beneath the blanket.
'Lucky enough…' he thought briefly.
He still remembered the English he had learned in his previous life.
Without it—communicating with Tony Stark would've been a nightmare in itself.
After all, as Kuro now: the language that came most naturally to him was still Japanese.
____
Author's note:
Did you enjoy it? 😌
Don't forget to leave a comment, add it to your favorites, and give a Power Stone.
If possible, I'd also love to see your reviews✨