It was early morning, yet a long line of patients had already formed outside Everlife Medical Center. Some had been waiting since dawn, hoping to receive treatment from the legendary doctor. Despite their desperation, none dared to break the rules.
Everyone knew better.
Ever since Soren Macaluso had effortlessly subdued an enraged abomination, his reputation had reached mythical proportions.
Even the armed soldiers stationed nearby, a security measure to prevent any disturbances stood still, as if the slightest movement out of turn would provoke his wrath.
Then, a black SUV with the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem came into view, speeding down the street before executing a precise tail-flick stop in front of the medical center.
The crowd turned their heads, curiosity flashing in their eyes. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, here?
The driver's door swung open, and out stepped a calm, well-dressed man with a receding hairline was none other than Agent Phil Coulson.
Coulson took a glance at the massive queue of important people in front of the clinic and let out a small sigh. He knew that Director Fury's orders were clear, get Soren's help, no matter what.
"Guess I'm waiting in line, then."
And so, to the shock of everyone, a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent quietly took his place at the back of the line.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"Even S.H.I.E.L.D. has to wait? Just how powerful is this doctor?"
Hours passed.
By noon, the clinic doors finally opened once again, and a handful of people trickled out, their faces filled with relief after receiving treatment.
Then, just as Coulson was preparing to move forward, Soren's calm yet commanding voice rang out from inside:
"That's the end of today's consultations. Everyone, please come back early tomorrow."
The doors began to close.
Coulson's heart tightened, there was no time to waste. Before the doors could shut completely, he stepped forward and knocked firmly.
"Mr. Macaluso, I'm Agent Phil Coulson from S.H.I.E.L.D. Could I have a moment of your time?"
Silence.
For a long moment, there was no response. The last few patients hesitated before walking away, some casting sympathetic glances at Coulson.
As he was about to turn away in defeat, there was a faint creak of the door opening slightly.
"Come in."
Coulson let out a breath and stepped inside.
Soren stood in the clinic lobby, arms crossed, his eyes analyzing Coulson with mild curiosity.
Coulson had expected… something different. The rumors made Soren sound like an ancient, untouchable being, yet in front of him was a young man with an amused, playful demeanor.
Coulson smiled, ever the diplomat. "Soren Macaluso. I've heard quite a bit about you."
Soren chuckled, motioning for him to sit. "Likewise, Agent Coulson. Director Fury's right-hand man, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s finest. Tea?"
Without waiting for a response, he poured a steaming cup and handed it over.
Coulson took a sip, eyebrows raising in genuine appreciation. "This is… really good."
"It's a special blend from the Everlife Medical Center. Helps with stress. You look like you need it."
Coulson chuckled but quickly grew serious.
"I won't waste your time, Mr. Macaluso. I'm here because we need your help."
Soren leaned back in his chair, feigning mild curiosity. "Oh? S.H.I.E.L.D. has the best resources in the world. What could you possibly need from a simple doctor?"
Coulson's eyes narrowed slightly. He knew Soren wasn't ignorant, he had already guessed the reason.
Still, he played along.
"Tony Stark has been kidnapped in Afghanistan. The military is panicking. We believe terrorists have taken him, and the longer he stays missing, the worse it gets. The military is out of leads, so Fury sent me to see if you could… assist us."
Soren's expression remained unreadable.
Then, he let out a slow, thoughtful sigh.
"Tony Stark… kidnapped… in Afghanistan."
He rubbed his chin.
"Hmm… no, I don't think I'll get involved."
Coulson blinked. "Excuse me?"
Soren grinned. "I'm a doctor, Agent Coulson. Not a bodyguard. Not a mercenary. And certainly not S.H.I.E.L.D.'s problem solver."
"Soren~" Coulson exhaled.
"Besides." Soren continued, standing up and pacing slightly, "I don't think you need to worry about Stark. He'll find a way out."
"We can't take that risk." Coulson frowned.
Soren turned to face him fully, his eyes gleaming in the dim clinic lighting.
"You're missing the bigger picture, Coulson. Right now, Stark is at his lowest. He's lost his weapons, his freedom, and his arrogance. But it's exactly that suffering that will shape him into something… Marvelous."
Coulson stared at him, realization dawning.
"You… you think this is supposed to happen?"
Soren simply smiled. "Let's just say… fate has a way of balancing things."
Tony Stark was dying.
A bomb had exploded too close, sending hot shards of metal tearing into his body. His chest throbbed with every shallow breath, a dull, persistent pain reminding him that death was creeping closer.
The shrapnel, carried by his own bloodstream, was inching toward his heart. Left untreated, it would pierce his organs, killing him in a week… maybe less.
And there was no hospital. No high-tech surgery.
Just a dark, damp cave in the middle of the Desert, filled with the stench of oil, metal, and blood.
His savior? A soft-spoken man with tired eyes, Dr. Yinsen, a fellow prisoner who had used scraps of medical supplies to perform a life-saving procedure.
When Tony awoke, he felt an odd weight in his chest. He lifted his trembling hand and touched a crude, makeshift device embedded in his skin.
A magnet.
"You're awake." Yinsen said, standing beside him, relief evident in his voice.
Tony groaned, blinking against the dim light. "What… did you do to me?"
Yinsen sighed. "Saved your life. The shrapnel was moving toward your heart, I couldn't remove it all, so I implanted an electromagnet. As long as it stays powered, it keeps the metal from killing you."
Tony's mind, though foggy, quickly grasped the implications.
"So, if this thing runs out of juice, I die?"
Yinsen nodded grimly. "Exactly."
"Thank you."
For the next few days, Stark played along.
The terrorists, the Ten Rings, had captured him because they wanted his genius. They forced him to gather parts, expecting him to build a weapon capable of mass destruction.
Tony smiled, nodded, pretended to cooperate, but in secret, he was building something else entirely.
Yinsen, watching him tinker with the palladium core, finally voiced his confusion.
"This… doesn't look like a missile."
Tony smirked. "That's because it's not."
Yinsen leaned closer, observing the glowing blue device Stark had constructed. "What is it?"
Tony tapped the metal casing with his finger. "A miniature Arc Reactor. Back home, I have a much bigger one that powers my entire factory. But this little beauty?" He gestured to the device on his chest. "This will keep me alive.
Yinsen raised an eyebrow. "How powerful is it?"
Tony grinned, despite his weakened state. "If I did the math right… 3 billion joules per second."
Yinsen's eyes widened. "That's enough energy to power your heart… fifty life times over!"
Tony's grin turned into something more cruel. "Or... to power something a little bigger, for a little while."
Yinsen followed Tony's gaze to the scattered blueprints on the floor, an overlapping design of armor plates, hydraulics, and servos.
Realization dawned.
"You're not building a missile…" Yinsen whispered, awe creeping into his voice. "You're building a way out."
"Damn right, I am."
For two straight days, Tony and Yinsen worked tirelessly, assembling the crude Mark I armor in the flickering light of the cave.
The armor was ugly, bulky, and far from perfect, but it was their only chance, as they secured the last bolts, Tony took a deep breath.
"Yinsen, we need to activate the power system and assemble the last components."
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Fellow Phantoms and aspiring Phantoms to be, if you seek to access advanced parts of this story procced to my shadowy realm of p@treon.
PhantomDream