"This is bad for Tony Stark," First-Gen Harry muttered, swirling the wine in his glass. It was obvious that Tony had no choice in this situation. If he refused, he'd likely be killed on the spot.
Of course, if he kept resisting, the kidnappers could resort to demanding a high ransom from his family. Whether he'd actually be released safely after the payment, however, was another story entirely.
Mary Jane, sitting nearby, shared the sentiment. Tony Stark had fallen into a trap, and escaping this predicament would be no easy feat.
First-Gen Harry pondered what he would do in Tony's place. If he were captured, he'd probably feign compliance while waiting for the right moment—or for a rescue.
[Tony was led out of the cave, his head covered with a sack. When they removed it, the sudden, blinding sunlight made him squint, his eyes struggling to adjust.]
[As he took in his surroundings, he realized he was standing in the middle of a valley. Before he could react, a member of the Ten Rings shoved him forward, forcing him to stumble ahead.]
[With no choice, Tony clutched the car battery strapped to him and walked forward, scanning the area. His sharp eyes quickly spotted something alarming—Stark Industries weapons, stockpiled in large quantities.]
[The leader of the group deliberately let him see it all before turning to him and asking what he thought. Tony was stunned. How had they gotten so many of his company's weapons?]
[With a smirk, the leader boasted that they had obtained them from his "American friends." Then he pointed toward the supplies and told Tony that everything he needed to build the Jericho Missile was right there.]
[Yinsen, standing beside him, translated every word. "Once the missile is complete," he said, "you'll be free."]
[Tony knew better. He was nothing more than a pawn in their hands—trapped, forced to cooperate. To survive, he had to play along. So, putting on a façade, he extended his hand and shook the leader's, signaling his reluctant agreement.]
[Unbeknownst to him, watching from afar was the true leader of the operation, absently stroking the ornate ring on his finger as he observed Tony Stark.]
"When you live under someone else's roof, you have no choice but to lower your head," Hill commented, watching Tony's silent reaction.
"Hah... It's no big deal," Tony finally said, exhaling as he adjusted his emotions. "It's not that hard. You do know I'm a super genius, right?" He smirked.
"So you just hammered out a mini Arc Reactor in a cave?" Rhodes shook his head in disbelief. "I really wonder what Dr. Otto would think if he saw this..."
Dr. Otto had spent years trying to develop stable reactor technology and had failed. Meanwhile, Tony had done it with scraps in captivity.
Second-Gen Harry, who had a knack for catching subtle details, sensed something was off. Those weapons shouldn't have been there. The only logical explanation was that someone from the military or Stark Industries had supplied them.
There was only one person who fit that description—Obadiah Stane. The Ten Rings had mentioned him in their previous messages, and Tony had just spoken with him on the phone. It all lined up too perfectly.
He voiced his suspicions to Second-Gen Spider-Man and the others, and they all nodded in agreement.
[That night, Tony sat by a small fire, lost in thought. Yinsen, walking past him, suddenly spoke up. "I believe the military is looking for you. But even if they are... finding this place will be nearly impossible."]
[He crouched down beside Tony, locking eyes with him. "Look around. Everything you saw today—those are your creations. Your research. Your weapons… now in the hands of murderers."]
["Are you really just going to sit here and wait to die? Is this the arrogant Tony Stark I've heard so much about?"]
["Why should I do anything?" Tony muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "Even if I try something, they'll kill both me and you. And even if they don't, I wouldn't last long anyway."]
["So," Yinsen said quietly, "that means the next few days are very important to you."]
[Tony's eyes flickered with realization. A plan began forming in his mind.]
[The next morning...]
["I need a proper workspace. Good lighting. Fully stocked equipment. Welding tools, a welding table, a helmet, protective goggles, a crucible—plus two precision instruments."]
[Tony's voice was firm, commanding. Yinsen translated his requests swiftly. The gang members, not understanding the full scope of his plan, moved to accommodate his demands, constructing the workshop he needed.]
[The camera focused on a Stark Industries missile as a pair of hands carefully dismantled it. Tony worked with expert precision, extracting its internal components piece by piece.]
["How many languages do you speak?" he asked Yinsen while working.]
["A lot," Yinsen replied. "But even here, it's not enough. They speak Arabic, Urdu, Dari, Pashto, Mongolian, Farsi, and Russian."]
[Tony kept his hands moving as he listened. "And who are they?"]
[Yinsen let out a dry chuckle. "Your loyal customers. They call themselves freedom fighters."]
[Through a hidden surveillance feed, the gang's second-in-command watched Tony's work. But, unfamiliar with engineering, he didn't realize what was actually happening.]
[Later, Yinsen crouched beside Tony and whispered, "Let me help. If I'm part of your plan, we'll move much faster."]
["Really?" Tony muttered absentmindedly, hammering at a missile's warhead before pulling out its core components.]
[After extracting a key material, he casually tossed the missile aside.]
["What is that?" Yinsen frowned, confused as to why Tony had gone through so much trouble for something so small.]
[Tony held up a tiny fragment with tweezers. "Palladium. 0.15 grams. But we need at least 1.6 grams, which means… we have to dismantle all the missiles."]
["What's he doing?" one of the kidnappers asked, peering through the surveillance feed.]
["Working," the guard monitoring Tony answered flatly.]
[In the workshop, Tony melted down all the palladium he had extracted. Yinsen, holding a container of molten metal, moved carefully.]
["Careful! We only have one shot at this," Tony warned, watching anxiously.]
["Relax," Yinsen chuckled. "My hands are steady. Otherwise, you wouldn't have survived this long, would you?"]
[With precision, Yinsen poured the liquid metal into the mold. Moments later, a small, round palladium core was formed. As it cooled, Tony turned to Yinsen and, for the first time, asked his name.]
[Then, with meticulous care, Tony placed the cooled palladium disc onto a pre-prepared glass lens, fitting it into a coil assembly. Slowly, he turned a switch—]
[The miniature reactor came to life, glowing a bright blue-white.]
[Yinsen leaned in, inspecting it. "This… doesn't look like a Jericho Missile."]
["Because it's not," Tony replied with a smirk. "It's a miniaturized Arc Reactor. I have a big one back home that powers my factory. This one should be enough… to keep the shrapnel out of my heart."]
[Yinsen raised an eyebrow. "How much power does it generate?"]
["If I did it right… about three billion joules per second," Tony said, admiring his work.]
[Yinsen's eyes widened. "Enough to keep your heart running for thousands of years!"]
[Tony chuckled. "Yeah… or power something big for about fifteen minutes."]
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