The explosion echoed in Tony's ears, but this time it was different.
The sound was the same—that earth-shattering boom that had haunted his nightmares for years. The taste of sand and copper blood in his mouth was familiar. Even the burning sensation in his chest where shrapnel had torn through him felt exactly as he remembered. But something was wrong. Or rather, something was impossibly right.
As consciousness crept back into his battered body, so did memories that shouldn't exist. Pepper's funeral, black dress and red-rimmed eyes. The weight of six Infinity Stones burning through his human flesh. Thanos's purple face, twisted first in triumph, then in disbelief, and finally in defeat as the universe's greatest tyrant crumbled to ash.
"I am inevitable."
"And I… am Iron Man."
Tony's eyes snapped open.
The cave was exactly as he remembered—dim, dank, and reeking of unwashed bodies and fear. Ancient stone walls surrounded him, lit by flickering torches that threw dancing shadows across rough-hewn surfaces. The sound of dripping water echoed from somewhere in the darkness beyond. His wrists were shackled to the wall with crude metal restraints that bit into his skin.
But it wasn't right. This couldn't be right.
He had died. He remembered dying—the snap, the pain, the satisfied look on Pepper's face as she told him he could rest now. He remembered his heart stopping, remembered the darkness closing in. The last thing he'd seen was Rhodey's face, grief-stricken and trying to be strong.
So how was he back in this hellhole?
"You're awake."
Tony turned his head, wincing as the movement sent spikes of pain through his skull. A man sat cross-legged near the cave entrance, his dark hair streaked with premature gray, kind eyes studying Tony with professional concern. Dr. Ho Yinsen. The man who had saved his life, who had died so Tony could escape, who had asked Tony not to waste his life and had died believing Tony would honor that request.
"How long?" Tony's voice came out as a croak, his throat raw from smoke inhalation and screaming.
"Three days," Yinsen replied, moving closer with a bowl of water. "You've been in and out of consciousness. The shrapnel…" He gestured to Tony's chest, where crude bandages covered the wound. "It's moving closer to your heart. We don't have long to act."
Tony looked down at his chest, at the rough bandages that covered the wound he knew too well. Beneath them, he could feel the battery—crude car battery that Yinsen had rigged to the electromagnet keeping the shrapnel from reaching his heart. The setup that had kept him alive just long enough to build the arc reactor.
The arc reactor he had already built. Years ago. In another life that was somehow also this life.
"The electromagnet," Tony said slowly, testing his theory. "You wired it to a car battery to keep the shrapnel from moving."
Yinsen blinked in surprise. "Yes, but how did you—"
"And the men who took us." Tony's mind was racing now, pieces clicking into place with terrifying clarity. "They want me to build them a Jericho missile. The same weapon system I was here to demonstrate when their bomb went off."
The doctor's eyes widened. "Tony, you've been unconscious. How could you possibly know—"
"What's your son's name?"
The question seemed to come from nowhere, but Tony watched Yinsen's face carefully. The older man's expression shifted from confusion to something approaching fear.
"I… I don't understand."
"Your son." Tony pressed forward, his voice growing stronger as terrible certainty settled in his chest. "You told me about him. How you were supposed to see him again, how you hadn't seen him in years because of your work. What was his name?"
Yinsen's hands trembled slightly as he set down the water bowl. "How could you know about—"
"Because we've had this conversation before," Tony said quietly. "We've had all of these conversations before. You're going to tell me about your family in Gulmira. About how you became a doctor to help people. About how you've been trying to get home for years but the fighting never stops." Tony's voice caught slightly. "And you're going to die helping me escape from here."
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sound of their captors moving around outside the cave.
"That's impossible," Yinsen whispered.
"Yeah." Tony tested the shackles around his wrists, his engineer's mind automatically cataloguing their weaknesses even as he grappled with the impossibility of his situation. "Tell me about it."
But even as he said it, Tony was already planning. His mind—the same mind that had reverse-engineered alien technology, that had cracked time travel, that had figured out how to wield the power of the Infinity Stones without dying instantly—was already working through the implications.
If this was real, if he was somehow back in this cave with all his memories intact, then he had a chance. A chance to do things right this time. A chance to save Yinsen. A chance to prevent so much of the pain and loss that was coming.
A chance to beat Thanos before the Mad Titan even knew Earth existed.
"Yinsen," Tony said, his voice taking on the commanding tone that had directed Avengers and board meetings alike. "I need you to listen to me very carefully. Everything I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
The doctor studied Tony's face for a long moment, searching for something. Whatever he found there seemed to satisfy him, because he nodded slowly.
"Good." Tony rattled his chains, testing their give. "First things first—we're not building them a Jericho missile. We're building something much better. But not for them. For us. And this time, we're both walking out of here alive."
Yinsen leaned forward, his medical training warring with his curiosity. "What are you talking about? What do you mean 'this time'?"
"I mean," Tony said, his eyes already calculating angles and force distributions, "that I've done this before. I've built the suit, I've escaped this cave, I've become Iron Man. I've fought aliens and gods and robots and a purple bastard who wanted to kill half the universe." He looked directly at Yinsen. "And I've lost people. Too many people. Good people who died because I wasn't smart enough, wasn't fast enough, wasn't prepared enough."
"Tony, you're clearly suffering from some kind of—"
"The man who ordered our capture," Tony interrupted. "Raza. He's got a scar running from his left temple to his jaw. Got it in a firefight with American forces three years ago. His lieutenant has a gold tooth and speaks English with a British accent because he was educated in London before he joined the Taliban." Tony's eyes were hard, focused. "Want me to keep going?"
Yinsen's face had gone pale. "How could you possibly know—"
"Because I lived through this before," Tony said simply. "And you died. You died because I wasn't good enough, because I was too focused on just escaping instead of thinking strategically." His voice softened. "You died asking me not to waste my life. And you know what? I tried not to. I really did. But in the end, it wasn't enough."
The cave fell silent except for the distant murmur of voices from their captors.
"So what are you proposing?" Yinsen asked quietly.
Tony smiled, and for the first time since waking up in this nightmare, it was a real smile. The kind of smile that had once struck terror into the hearts of competing weapons manufacturers and government officials who thought they could manipulate Tony Stark.
"I'm proposing we change the game entirely," he said. "See, the thing about having lived through the future is that you know where all the pieces are going to be. And this time, I'm not just planning an escape." His eyes glinted in the torchlight. "I'm planning a revolution."
Yinsen stared at him for a long moment, then slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out a small notebook and pencil.
"What do you need me to do?"
Tony's grin widened. "First, we're going to need some very specific materials. I'll give you a list. Tell them it's for the missile, but what we're actually building is going to be much more impressive." He paused, his expression growing serious. "And Yinsen? This time, we're both going home."
As if summoned by his words, the sound of heavy boots on stone echoed from the cave entrance. Their captors were coming to check on their prize. Tony closed his eyes briefly, centering himself. He had been here before. He knew every word that was about to be spoken, every move that was about to be made.
But this time, he was ready.
This time, he was going to change everything.
The first guard rounded the corner, assault rifle in hand, barking orders in Dari. Tony looked up at him and smiled—the same cocky, infuriating smile that had gotten him through a thousand board meetings and press conferences.
"Gentlemen," he said cheerfully, as if he were greeting guests at a Stark Industries gala instead of armed terrorists in a cave. "I believe you wanted to discuss a business proposition. Well, you're in luck. I've got some ideas that are going to blow your minds."
And in the back of his mind, Tony Stark—Iron Man, Avenger, the man who had sacrificed everything to save the universe—began to plan for a war that wouldn't begin for years. A war that this time, he intended to win before it ever started.
The game had changed.
And Tony Stark was ready to play.