Bathed in the powerful emerald glow, Yinsen's body shuddered, his wounds sealing with an almost unnatural speed.
The bullets lodged deep in his internal organs began to shift, forced out by the regenerating flesh, clinking softly as they fell onto the floor.
Coulson watched in awestruck silence.
He had heard rumors about Soren… the so-called "Miracle Doctor"
Whispers of a man who could cure the incurable, heal wounds that even modern medicine deemed fatal.
He had never believed them.
Not until now. This wasn't science.
Soren, however, his hand hovered over Yinsen's chest, the soft glow gradually dimming.
A sudden chime echoed in his mind.
[Congratulations, Host. You have healed: Yinsen Ho.]
[Character: Yinsen Ho]
[World Rank: E+]
[Abilities: Biological Research (Lv6), Mechanical Engineering (Lv4)]
[Ability Draw Activated – Congratulations! You have gained: Mechanical Engineering (Lv4)]
Soren's eyebrow twitched at the notification.
Mechanical Engineering?
He glanced at Yinsen's sleeping form, then at his own hands. He wasn't exactly an engineer.
Still, free knowledge was free knowledge.
"Sir, you truly are a genius!" Coulson finally breathed.
Soren waved a hand dismissively. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Agent Coulson."
Coulson chuckled nervously before his expression hardened. "You just said you could find Stark… do you know where he is?"
Soren leaned back, crossing his arms. "Your phone has GPS, right?"
. "…Yes?" Coulson blinked
"Good. Hand it over."
Without hesitation, Coulson pulled out his high-security SHIELD-issued phone, unlocking it with a quick fingerprint scan before handing it to Soren.
Soren's fingers moved effortlessly, as if he already knew exactly what he was looking for.
He traced his finger over the digital map, his eyes glowing faintly, sensing the lingering spatial disturbance from the business card's activation.
The map zoomed in, focusing on a rugged, mountainous region in southern Afghanistan.
With a final tap, Soren marked the exact location.
"It's here." He handed the phone back to Coulson. "This is where Tony Stark is being held."
"…You're sure?" Coulson's eyes widened.
"Would I lie?"
Coulson stared at the map. The location made sense.
SHIELD had already pinpointed Stark's general whereabouts, but the area was too large to conduct a precise rescue. Now, with Soren's exact coordinates, the mission could finally move forward.
Coulson's fingers flew over his screen, sending the data to his team.
A ping confirmed the transmission.
His relief was palpable. "With this, we can mobilize immediately. The military and SHIELD will handle the rest."
Coulson looked back at Soren, his expression serious. "Thank you. Truly."
Soren simply smiled, shrugging. "Don't mention it."
Coulson, however, wasn't finished.
"If you ever need anything, anything at all contact me. SHIELD owes you."
Soren chuckled, amused. "I'll keep that in mind."
With that, Coulson turned, stepping away as he made his urgent call.
Within minutes, SHIELD's strike teams were mobilizing. Tony Stark was coming home.
As Coulson departed, Soren turned back to Yinsen, whose breathing had now stabilized.
He waved a hand, and the unconscious man floated effortlessly, landing softly on a nearby sofa.
Despite the miracle healing, Yinsen remained asleep. Soren observed him, his keen gaze narrowing.
This wasn't a physical issue.
Yinsen's body had recovered, but his spirit had already accepted death.
Soren sighed, rubbing his temple.
"People don't realize just how fragile the mind is."
This reminded him of something he had read in his previous life, cases where people were hypnotized into believing they had been burned, and their bodies reacted accordingly, forming real blisters.
It should take some time for his spirit to adapt again.
The cave was in ruins.
The sky above the Afghan desert burned orange with the glow of raging explosions. Fire licked the air, sending black smoke spiraling toward the heavens.
Tony Stark stood amidst it all.
His prototype armor, the clunky, improvised creation forged from scrap metal, had proven itself deadly. The once-proud terrorist camp was now nothing more than a burning graveyard, filled with the screams of those who had once held him prisoner.
And yet, Tony felt no satisfaction.
His rage still burned hot in his chest, hotter than the flames that engulfed the stolen Stark Industries weapons surrounding him.
They had used his technology.
These men… these monsters… had slaughtered innocent people with the weapons his own company had produced.
"Not one of you walks out of here alive."
The terrorists, fearless and desperate, continued to fire. Bullets ricocheted off the metal plating of the Mark I suit, but Tony barely felt them. The armor groaned with each hit, but it held.
He raised his right arm, the crude flamethrower extending from the wrist.
FWOOSH!
A torrent of fire surged forth, engulfing a pile of nearby ammunition crates. The explosion was instantaneous.
The shockwave rattled the cave walls, sending debris crashing down from the ceiling. The terrorists who had survived the initial flames were now thrown aside like ragdolls, their bodies colliding with the jagged rocks.
Even inside the armor, Tony felt the blast's force.
He stumbled back as the entire camp went up in flames. Smoke filled the air. Screams faded.
It was over.
Tony exhaled, his body sagging inside the suit.
The anger drained away, leaving only a hollow emptiness in its wake.
A warning alarm blared inside the helmet.
[WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLOAD]
[EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY]
Tony's eyes widened.
The fire was spreading too fast, if he didn't leave now, he'd be caught in the chain reaction of exploding munitions.
With a deep breath, he activated the final function of the armor… the escape launch.
A deafening roar filled the air as the Mark I's thrusters ignited, launching Tony into the sky with a violent force.
The desert stretched beneath him, a vast golden sea of rolling dunes.
For a brief moment, he felt weightless.
The thrusters failed.
BZZZZT!
A sharp buzzing sound filled his ears as the suit's jury-rigged propulsion system sputtered and died.
Tony plummeted, the desert rushing up to meet him.
"Ah, hell—"
CRASH!
The impact rattled his bones, sending metal shards flying as the armor shattered on impact.
He rolled across the sand, tumbling violently before finally skidding to a stop.
For a moment, everything was still.
"Cough!"
A bloody foam mixed with grains of sand spilled from his lips as he gasped for breath.
"Ugh…"
Tony groaned, pushing himself up with trembling arms. His body ached, his head throbbed, and his chest…
His fingers brushed the hole in his shirt, feeling the cold, lifesaving arc reactor still embedded there.
He was alive.
As he blinked through the haze of exhaustion, his eyes took in the endless expanse of sand surrounding him.
No cave. No shelter. No water. Only the blistering sun and an ocean of golden dunes.
He was stranded.
A bitter chuckle escaped his lips, a harsh, broken sound. "Well, genius… what's the plan now?"
His mind raced for options, but exhaustion and dehydration were already taking their toll.
He staggered to his feet, one hand shielding his eyes from the relentless desert sun.
His legs trembled beneath him.
The burning pain in his chest worsened, every breath a struggle.
And
A sound.
A deep, rhythmic thumping in the distance.
Tony froze. At first, he feared the worst, were there more terrorists?
But then, as the sound grew louder, he caught sight of it in the sky.
Helicopters.
Over a Dozen.
Something familiar was painted on their sides.
A tricolor flag.
The Stars and Stripes.
The U.S. military.
Tony didn't believe his own eyes.
But as the aircraft descended, the unmistakable military green of the rescue chopper came into view, its insignia glinting under the sunlight.
"Hahahhah." A raw, desperate laugh bubbled from his throat.
His arms shot into the air, waving frantically. "HEY! OVER HERE! HEY!!"
His voice cracked, but he screamed anyway, throwing his entire soul into it.
The search team spotted him immediately.
The helicopter began to descend, kicking up a storm of sand and wind.
Tony felt his knees buckle, his body finally giving out.
As the world blurred around him, he saw the soldiers rushing toward him, their voices distant and muffled...
He was going home.
꧁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