Several terrorists rushed toward the iron gate, alarmed by the metallic noises coming from inside the cave. The sound of boots echoed through the narrow corridors, mixing with the nervous clicks of weapons being cocked.
"Check what's going on! Now!" One of them shouted in Arabic, breaking into a cold sweat as he approached the heavy locked door.
The men exchanged glances for a brief moment and then, with a decisive motion, one of them pulled the lever on the lock.
BOOOOMMMMM!
A deafening explosion swallowed the corridor in a wave of fire and metal. The impact shook the ground, and the two terrorists were thrown backward, torn apart before they could even scream. Shards of iron and flames lit up the cave entrance for an instant, like a flash from hell itself.
As the smoke began to dissipate, a figure emerged from the shadows—imposing, covered in uneven metal plates and armed with pure ingenuity.
Tony stood there, wearing the Mark I. The mechanical glow of the eyes reflected off the stone walls, and a confident smile formed on his soot-covered face inside the helmet.
"Yinsen, Arthur," he said, his voice distorted by the helmet's internal speaker. "Follow me!"
Arthur needed no further prompting. A wild grin crossed his face. The heavy thuds of the armor's footsteps reverberated through the mountain floor.
The terrorists, confused and terrified by what they were seeing, hesitated for a brief instant. It looked like a machine from another world—and that hesitation was enough to seal their fate.
Tony charged forward. The first attack was a punch. The impact broke bones and hurled the enemy against the wall, leaving behind a red stain. The second punch crushed another man into the ground, the metallic sound echoing like the toll of a death bell.
Chaos erupted. Screams, gunfire, dust, and metal blended together.
"Alright, you worthless terrorists…" Arthur rolled his fist.
"Let's dance~." he said as he advanced without hesitation.
Bullets began to sing, slicing through the air with deadly hums—but Arthur didn't seem to care. His movements were a blur, each step meticulously calculated, each strike a sentence.
The first enemy had his chest pierced before he even realized he'd been attacked. The second had his neck snapped. The third barely had time to scream before his head was twisted into an unnatural angle.
All of it done with bare hands.
Then—
"Tony, watch out! There's another one behind you!" Yinsen shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
Tony partially turned and, with a heavy motion, drove his left elbow backward. The impact was devastating—the terrorist flew into the stone wall, falling unconscious before even hitting the ground.
Meanwhile, Arthur advanced, eliminating anyone who crossed his path.
He dodged bullets as if predicting their trajectories, dispatching anyone who dared stand in his way.
"This should do…" he muttered as he picked up a combat knife from a corpse.
"Ryūkansen Kogarashi…" he murmured softly before executing the move.
A short lateral step with a sharp ninety-degree pivot.
An upward slash with the back edge of the blade.
The three enemies before him froze for a moment—then collapsed, clutching their bleeding throats.
Arthur lifted his gaze. In front of him, a bald man, stunned, tried to crawl away, his hands trembling. The terror in his eyes was almost tangible.
Arthur approached silently, his footsteps muffled by dust and groans.
"Hasta la vista, idiot," he said as he drove the knife into the man's skull.
Arthur wiped the blade on the enemy's filthy cloak and stood up, looking toward the interior of the cave.
Tony and Yinsen were still alive—exhausted and drenched in sweat, but alive. The Mark I emitted small crackling sounds, smoke rising from its metal joints, yet Tony remained standing.
---
The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed inside the cave like thunder in a closed valley.
Several terrorists, driven by desperation, turned their weapons toward Yinsen and opened fire without hesitation.
RATATATATATA!
The bursts ricocheted off the stone walls, sending sparks in every direction.
"Watch out!" Tony shouted, his voice muffled inside the Mark I helmet. His heart pounded, and for a moment time seemed to slow.
But it was too late. He could only watch, helpless, as muzzle flashes illuminated Yinsen's terrified face.
And then—something cut through the air.
A metallic flash shimmered between them.
A figure appeared before Yinsen, moving with supernatural speed.
Sparks danced in the air like fireflies amid the smoke as Arthur intercepted the bullets.
"…What was that…?" Tony muttered in disbelief.
The sight before them froze the battlefield. The terrorists stopped firing, paralyzed by what they were witnessing. The silence that followed felt almost unreal, as if even the desert itself had held its breath.
Yinsen, still dazed, stammered: "Arthur…?"
He could barely believe what he was seeing. Arthur's arms moved so fast they left trails in the air—overlapping afterimages.
Arthur didn't respond. His eyes were cold, focused. Without saying a single word to Yinsen, he advanced.
"Fire! Fire! Kill that monster!" One of the terrorists screamed, breaking the silence.
Panic spread like wildfire.
The guns roared again, dozens of bullets slicing through the air. But Arthur was a blur. He moved between the shots as if foreseeing each trajectory, dodging with precision—sometimes even deflecting bullets with quick, sharp cuts.
A trembling terrorist raised a heavy machine gun. "M-MONSTER!!!"
He pulled the trigger—but before the weapon could spit fire, a silver flash tore through the air.
Shrrrak!
The machine gun was sliced apart, and before he could comprehend what had happened, the barrel clattered to the ground. He stared in shock at what remained in his hands.
Slowly, he lifted his eyes.
Arthur stood before him. His gaze was empty, cold, devoid of emotion—the gaze of a Reaper.
For a brief moment, the terrorist tried to scream… but no sound came out. His vision spun. He saw the ground, then the sky, and finally his own body collapsing to its knees—headless.
Silence. Then—more screams.
"Use the rocket launchers!!" "No, please! Don't kill me! I beg you!"
The pleas for mercy had no effect. Arthur was an unstoppable force. Every movement was a lethal strike, every breath a harbinger of blood.
The ground became littered with bodies, the walls stained red. The smell of gunpowder and burnt iron saturated the air.
In less than a minute, half the terrorists on the battlefield were dead. The rest, paralyzed by fear, began to retreat.
Arthur spun the knife and hurled it into an enemy's skull, then glanced over his shoulder, his voice calm and casual:
"Tony, Yinsen… get out of here first. I still have some scores to settle with a few guys here. They made my stay very… entertaining."
I also need to find the bastard who leaked the location of one of my fake addresses to the remnants of the Hand, he thought.
Yes, the reason he was in this situation was to track down the person who had leaked information about him.
Tony hesitated. Even inside the armor, he felt a chill run down his spine. But there was something in Arthur's eyes—a cold determination—that convinced him not to argue.
"Alright," Tony replied firmly.
Arthur smirked and added: "Oh, and don't worry, Stark… I'll destroy everything here too."
As soon as the two left, Arthur turned back toward the camp and finally opened his Gate of Babylon, drawing his own sword from within.
"Now, we have unfinished business," he said as he advanced.
---
Shortly afterward, a series of explosions shook the desert.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Flames rose into the sky, consuming the entire camp. The shockwaves sent clouds of sand and debris soaring, illuminating the night with a hellish orange glow.
When the dust settled, Arthur walked out of the ruins.
"In the end, they had nothing relevant…" he thought.
"When I find the bastard who leaked that information, I swear I'll skin him alive and make a handcrafted drum out of it," he muttered irritably.
It didn't take long for him to catch up with Tony and Yinsen ahead. Both were exhausted, covered in dust and sweat.
They moved together across the desert. The sun beat down mercilessly, and before long Tony and Yinsen began showing clear signs of heatstroke and dehydration.
Arthur, however, seemed unfazed. His steps were steady, his breathing even. He could walk for days without water or food.
Time passed slowly. The hot wind blew, lifting grains of sand that stung their skin.
Then, in the distance, a sound began to rise. Faint at first, but soon unmistakable.
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
The rhythmic beat of helicopter blades echoed across the blue sky.
Tony lifted his head, the sun reflecting off his weary face. It was an American military helicopter. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating—but no, it was real.
His nightmare was finally over.
The aircraft landed amid the sand, kicking up a storm of dust. A man quickly disembarked, dressed in military uniform.
It was James Rhodes.
"Who are they?" Rhodes asked after speaking with Tony, raising his eyebrows at the sight of Arthur and Yinsen.
Dried blood covered much of Arthur's clothing, and his distant gaze did little to help his first impression.
Tony, however, offered a tired smile. "They're my saviors. Now… you're not going to interrogate me here in the middle of the desert, are you?"
Rhodes blinked, surprised, but soon nodded. "…Sorry." He had hundreds of questions, but he understood this wasn't the moment.
Soon, the trio boarded. The helicopter lifted into the air, leaving behind the desert and the ruins of the hell they had survived.
A few hours later, in a nearby city, Tony boarded a private jet with Yinsen and Arthur. The horizon stretched ahead, and as the plane gained altitude, a sense of relief washed over them all.
New York awaited them.
---
[End of the Flashback]
Yes, the two of them became friends purely by chance while he was investigating who had leaked information about him.
And, let's just say, he did find the one responsible.
It was a certain mercenary who wears a red suit so it won't show bloodstains and talks far too much.
After seeing his face, Arthur gave up on the handcrafted drum idea and settled for simply beating him senseless.
By the way, after all this, Yinsen decided to travel the world as a volunteer doctor in crisis regions—but he still keeps in touch with Tony and Arthur.
(End of Chapter)