As the Mark I suit roared to life, the cave's circuit system instantly shorted out. The overhead lightbulb popped, plunging the holding chamber into pitch-black darkness.
Wearing the Mark I armor, Tony flexed his fingers and bent his knees—everything worked perfectly. He smirked with a hint of pride and said,
"Gentlemen."
"Behold the latest creation of the world's greatest genius—Tony Stark."
With that, Tony clanked his way toward the cave's exit. Despite its crude appearance, the sheer size and bulk of the suit gave Ethan an unexpected sense of security.
Smith Doyle, Pool, and Ethan followed behind Tony, who was clearly eager to show off. Together, they stepped out of the cave.
Outside, the battlefield was littered with corpses and body parts. But the sight didn't faze Tony in the slightest. These were the scum who had kidnapped him—who had almost killed him. Instead, it gave him a clearer understanding of Smith Doyle's power.
Ignoring the bodies, Tony began his demonstration.
Steel fists. Iron legs. Arm-mounted missiles. A flamethrower. He showed them all off one by one.
The surrounding battlefield was completely wrecked by his display. To anyone arriving later, it would seem like the work of advanced technology alone.
Smith Doyle watched with great interest. Even Pool looked intrigued, while Ethan was left in awe.
The only downside? Tony had no opponent. Corpses don't fight back.
After running through the suit's arsenal, Tony activated the flight mechanism hidden in his arm. A second later, he blasted into the sky, yelling,
"See that?!"
"My suit can fly!"
"HAHA!"
But he didn't get to gloat for long. The thrusters suddenly sputtered and died. Tony plummeted uncontrollably toward the desert.
"AHHH—"
"HELP!"
WHOOoSsH!
Smith Doyle launched into the air using flight magic, catching Tony just before impact and lifting him safely.
Eyes wide, Tony gasped,
"God—you can fly?!"
"Are you Superman?"
"Thanks for saving me... again."
Ethan, watching from below, stood there stunned.
"He's a god, isn't he?"
Pool thought for a moment and replied,
"By your standards, young master Smith might as well be GOD."
Ethan fell silent, then ran toward them.
Smith gently set Tony down on the sand. Tony flipped up the helmet's faceplate, looking sheepish.
"Crap materials and rough conditions. Once I'm back, I'm building a real suit."
Smith chuckled.
"I believe in you."
Tony grinned even wider.
"When it's ready, you're getting the first invite. Trust me—it'll blow your mind."
Smith smirked.
"Just don't fall from the sky next time."
Tony waved dismissively.
"That was just a materials issue. Won't happen again."
Turning to the others, Smith said,
"Suit demo's done. Time to head back."
He pulled out a satellite phone and made a call.
"Send a helicopter to this location."
For a moment, Smith missed his spatial capsules. Being able to carry a plane in your pocket and just pop it out on demand—if only Bulma could develop one in this world.
Hopefully, the materials existed here too. Even Bulma couldn't make miracles out of thin air.
Soon, a helicopter appeared overhead. With Smith's help, Tony boarded while still in the armor, and the group flew to an airfield in Afghanistan.
At the airport, Ethan said his goodbyes—he was returning to his hometown. He declined Tony Stark's offer to come to New York.
After switching to a private jet, Tony stepped out of the Mark I with Pool's assistance.
As the plane soared toward New York, Tony showered, then stepped out in fresh clothes provided on board.
He found Smith Doyle already seated and eating. Tony studied him, still curious. A man who could fly. A blue cat that could fly. Incredible combat ability. Access to helicopters and jets in a war zone. Was he some mix between Superman and Batman?
Then Tony glanced at the plane's interior and couldn't help teasing,
"You've got quite the identity, but your jet's a little underwhelming compared to mine."
"I'll show you mine sometime. If you like it, I'll even gift you one."
Smith wasn't bothered by the jab. He just smiled and said,
"Thanks. Appreciate the offer. Here, I saved you a steak—eat something."
As Tony dug in, Smith picked up his phone and made a call.
"Ms. Pepper Potts. Tony Stark has been rescued. You were right—he was kidnapped by armed militants. They've been taken care of."
"Yes, Tony's safe. We're on a plane, due to land in New York in about six hours. You can have someone meet us at the airport."
"I'll put him on."
Smith slid the phone across the table. Tony picked it up and spoke with Pepper.
"I'm fine—really. Not even a scratch."
"Your boss is tougher than you think."
"Guess what? I built something amazing. Those guys never stood a chance."
"Haha, but seriously—thanks. Calling in Smith Doyle was a great move."
"Too bad I didn't get to make a flashy entrance, though."
As Tony chatted with Pepper, Smith's gaze drifted to the metal case next to him—inside was the Mark I.
The prototype had been born. The real Iron Man wasn't far behind.
Once the call ended, Tony set the phone down and looked at Smith.
"Thanks."
······
—End of chapter—
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