The next day!
Bang!
Bang!
Bang…
Stark lifted the forged Mark I helmet, quenched it in water, and set it in front of Yinsen.
Their eyes met.
In that instant, they both understood the burning resolve in each other’s hearts.
It was time.
Time to escape this godforsaken place.
As Yinsen began fitting the armor onto Stark, Roger quietly moved into the blind spot beneath the surveillance cameras, waiting for those unlucky guards to trigger the explosives attached to the cave entrance.
“Straight for forty-one steps. Out the door, turn left for sixteen steps, then right for four, then thirty-three more steps before turning right,” Stark calmly recited the escape route he had memorized.
A thunderous explosion shook the cave.
Dust rained from the ceiling as Yinsen followed Stark’s instructions, completing the armor’s final power connections.
In the end, Yinsen had no choice but to grab a rifle himself and buy Stark the time he needed.
Watching Yinsen walk away without hesitation, Roger let out a quiet breath.
“Now… it’s my turn.”
He quickly followed after him, sticking to Yinsen’s shadow like a ghost.
Roger’s powerful telekinesis enveloped the entire tunnel, silently stopping every bullet fired at Yinsen.
At the same time, his Psychic Illusion ability activated.
Everyone within dozens of meters fell into a brief trance.
Then, a moment later, events continued as though nothing had happened.
Yinsen charged toward the cave entrance.
Waiting for him…
…were more than a dozen cold rifle barrels.
The atmosphere froze.
Meanwhile, deep inside the cave…
Stark watched silently from the darkness as the terrorists slowly approached.
Like a patient lion lying in wait, he remained perfectly still, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Clang!
Boom!
A steel-covered fist smashed straight into a terrorist, sending him flying.
The glow of the arc reactor lit up the darkness.
Faced with an unknown steel monster—a suit of armor that bullets couldn’t penetrate—the terrorists’ fragile courage collapsed.
Ignoring the hail of gunfire, Stark barreled forward in the Mark I.
One punch.
One enemy down.
No matter how sturdy the doors were, they couldn’t withstand his iron fists.
Within seconds, he burst out of the cave and reached the entrance.
The first thing Stark saw…
…was Yinsen lying in a pool of blood among a pile of supplies.
Before he could even speak, a rocket-propelled grenade nearly struck him.
Rage exploded inside Stark.
He immediately returned the favor—with a missile.
Earth and rocks rained down.
Clinging to a sliver of hope, Stark called for Yinsen to leave with him.
Instead…
…he received Yinsen’s final words.
“I hope so… I hope so… Don’t waste… don’t waste your life.”
Flames of fury burned in Stark’s eyes.
Every ounce of his anger demanded release.
These terrorists…
These murderers…
…had to pay.
Without another word, Stark lowered his faceplate and charged out of the cave.
Ignoring the endless barrage of bullets, torrents of fire erupted from both palms.
Every weapon in sight was consumed by the inferno.
The flames would cleanse everything.
Fire.
Explosions.
Destruction.
“Go to hell! Every last one of you! AHHHH!”
…
After Stark left, Roger emerged from hiding and hoisted the completely unharmed Yinsen onto his back before dashing out of the cave.
Curled behind a ballistic shield, Yinsen frowned slightly, as if trapped in a nightmare.
Roger glanced down at him and sighed softly.
Then he accelerated even faster.
Shockwaves burst behind him as circles of vapor formed in the air.
He sped into the distance.
More than ten kilometers away, Roger gently laid Yinsen on the ground.
Then he placed a backpack into his arms.
Inside, Roger had prepared everything Yinsen would need:
Enough survival supplies.
Cash.
Maps.
A plane ticket to New York.
And in New York…
…an apartment Roger had purchased the previous year was waiting for its new owner.
“May kind people always be treated with kindness.”
“Good luck, Dr. Ho Yinsen.”
Roger shot into the sky and released the Psychic Illusion controlling Yinsen.
In another ten seconds or so…
…Yinsen would wake up.
As for Roger…
He still needed to return to the Ten Rings’ base.
Before Stark blew the entire place to pieces, he wanted to camp there and wait…
…to catch the “Lin Daiyu” who was about to fall from the sky.
As luck would have it, by the time Roger arrived…
…towering flames were already soaring hundreds of meters into the air.
The entire cave complex had been blown apart by Stark.
A dark figure shot out from the inferno, rocketing toward the sky.
Then—
The engine failed.
The armored figure traced an arc through the air…
…and began plummeting.
He instantly unleashed his full speed, arriving at a patch of desert beneath Stark’s trajectory.
Using his telekinesis, he secretly cushioned the falling iron can just enough to slow the impact.
A normal person wearing a suit of armor weighing nearly 680 kilograms, falling from several hundred meters in the air—
Even landing in sand—
Would have been killed by the impact.
Roger had no idea whether the Stark from the movie had survived thanks to protagonist luck or sheer dumb fortune.
But now, he had to give him a helping hand.
Otherwise…
If Stark died here, then Roger’s three months of carefully nurturing Iron Man would all have been for nothing.
Powerful telekinetic force flowed through Roger’s hands.
With a gentle upward motion—
The falling Stark slowed.
He crashed toward a nearby sand dune instead.
Boom!
With a heavy thud…
Stark completed a safe emergency landing.
The Mark I armor fell apart into a pile of scrap metal.
“Tony? Is that you, Tony?”
Roger feigned astonishment as he looked into the crater.
“What the hell? You fell out of the sky? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Stark lifted his visor.
He spat out a mouthful of sand before revealing the relieved smile of someone who had narrowly escaped death.
“Not bad.”
Roger helped Stark struggle free from the heap of twisted metal.
“Not bad indeed. I imagined every possible scenario, but somehow I never guessed you’d literally fall out of the sky.”
“What a surprise, Tony.”
Supporting Stark by the shoulder, Roger smiled.
Looking at Stark’s slightly dim expression, Roger gently pulled him into a hug.
“It’s time to go home, Tony.”
Hearing those words…
…a spark returned to Stark’s eyes.
Not long afterward, Roger brought Stark to his motorcycle and rode him back to the Air Force base.
At the same time, he contacted Colonel Rhodes and Pepper to let them know Stark was safe.
“Thank you, Mr. Roger.”
“Thank you for spending the last three months searching without giving up.”
“Thank you for bringing Tony back alive.”
“I can never repay you.”
Colonel Rhodes gripped Roger’s hands tightly, his whole body trembling with excitement.
He was overjoyed.
His best friend had survived.
After three months of fruitless searching—like looking for a needle in the ocean—Rhodes had nearly given up hope.
Only because Roger had tirelessly searched the desert, refusing to abandon his belief, had Tony Stark finally been brought home.
Roger waved dismissively, slung an arm around Rhodes’ shoulder, and looked toward Stark, who was being treated by the medical staff.
“He’s my brother too.”
“And brothers don’t keep score.”
At that moment, Stark suddenly turned toward them with a strange expression.
Then he shouted loudly:
“Hey! While I was gone these three months… did you two start dating?”