Xu Fu slowly turned her head, narrowing her eyes at the endless desert.
"…This is strange," she murmured.
The air felt heavy.
The mana around them wasn't flowing normally—it moved in an unfamiliar, rigid pattern.
Not following any route she recognized.
Not obeying the structure it was supposed to.
Xu Fu slowly lowered her hand.
"…Master," her voice turned slightly more serious. "My magic isn't failing."
She paused briefly.
"But this world… doesn't 'understand' how it works."
She looked back at her hand.
A small amount of mana still swirled at her fingertips—then pulsed… stronger than it should have, before abruptly fading out.
"…If I force the same form," she continued quietly, "the result will deviate."
Xu Fu lifted her gaze toward the desert once more.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"This world we've come to… is strange."
Kuro simply smiled faintly.
"Yeah, makes sense," he muttered casually. "The system's different."
He let out a slow breath, then began to explain—about how this world doesn't use magecraft like theirs, but something more… structured.
He gave one example: Kamar-Taj, its sorcerers, and the title of Master of the Mystic Arts that they hold.
About how magic in this world doesn't entirely come from within oneself—but instead borrows energy from other dimensions.
Different dimensions.
Different entities.
Different laws.
Kuro finished his explanation in a relaxed tone.
"Basically, they're not 'magi'… more like 'borrowers.'"
Silence followed.
The desert wind drifted gently past.
Xu Fu didn't respond right away.
She simply stood there, processing.
"…Hah."
Her voice was flat.
She glanced at Kuro with an expression that was hard to read.
"So you're saying…"
She raised her hand slightly, trying to summon mana—or at least attempting to.
"…they don't construct their own formulas, don't refine internal energy…"
Xu Fu stopped for a moment.
Her expression turned strange.
Somewhere between disbelief… and a slight sense of offense.
"…And they just 'borrow' it from external entities?"
Silence.
Then she gently rubbed her temples.
"…Do they not have any pride as mages?"
Her tone was serious—but there was clearly sarcasm underneath.
She looked back out at the desert and clicked her tongue softly.
"…No wonder it feels so strange."
Xu Fu lowered her hand.
"It's not about the amount of energy," she continued flatly. "It's about the foundation."
She glanced at Kuro again.
"If their system depends on 'permission' from the outside…"
A brief pause.
"…then it can be cut off."
A thin smile appeared on her face.
Not warm—more analytical, almost cold.
"Interesting."
Kuro chuckled softly.
"Yeah, whatever that is…" he said casually. "You can experiment later."
He turned his gaze toward the figure still half-buried in the sand.
"Right now, the important thing is saving this guy."
A brief silence followed.
Xu Fu let out a faint sigh—clearly dissatisfied, but not objecting either.
"…Tch. Fine."
She glanced at Tony Stark, then raised her hand again.
This time—more carefully.
Mana began to gather once more, but without forcing it like before.
Xu Fu adjusted.
Following this world's "rules" instead of directly opposing them.
The sand around Tony's body began to tremble slightly, then slowly lifted.
Grains of sand moved away as if pushed by an invisible hand, clearing space around his body without physically lifting him.
Xu Fu narrowed her eyes, focusing.
"…Annoying." she muttered softly. "I have to recalibrate first."
As she used her magic, her Sharingan activated for a moment. At the same time, bit by bit, Tony's body was freed from the sand.
His armor gradually came into full view.
Xu Fu lowered her hand after enough space had been cleared, her breathing slightly heavier—not from exhaustion, but from the annoying process of adjusting her technique.
"…Done." she said shortly.
She turned to Kuro.
"If you want to continue, do it yourself."
Her tone was flat—but the lingering irritation was obvious.
Kuro smiled, softening slightly—the desert heat made his breath feel heavier, giving his expression a faint, subdued quality.
"Thanks…"
Xu Fu paused.
A faint blush appeared on her face.
She immediately looked away, staring somewhere else as if the desert had suddenly become far more interesting.
"…You don't need to say that." she muttered softly.
Xu Fu crossed her arms, trying to act normal—though the tips of her ears were still slightly red.
"Just doing my job." she added quickly, forcing her tone to stay even.
A brief silence followed.
Then, even quieter—almost swallowed by the desert wind—
"…Weird Master."
Kuro smiled faintly.
Without saying much, he raised his hand and activated a healing spell, though not enough to fully restore himself.
After that, he lifted Tony's body onto his shoulder and stood up.
Behind him—the remnants of the Prototype Mark I lay scattered across the desert sand, half-buried and silent, as if they had never mattered at all.
Kuro glanced at it briefly… then turned away.
He didn't take it.
Not because he couldn't.
But because he chose not to.
If Tony Stark lost the starting point of his journey, lost proof of what he had endured… then his path forward could change. And Kuro—had no intention of disrupting that "story."
With steady steps, he began to leave the area.
Not without reason.
The remaining Ten Rings members would likely return. This place was no longer safe—and Kuro wasn't foolish enough to stay and wait for trouble to arrive.
The desert wind swept gently across the dunes.
And without looking back, Kuro carried the billionaire away from the traces of his past—toward something that, unbeknownst to Tony, would shape him into more than just an ordinary man.
***
Night fell without a sound.
The heat that had burned under the sun earlier vanished as if it had never existed, replaced by a creeping cold—one that pierced straight through to the bones.
The desert changed its face, from a blazing hell into a frozen emptiness.
In the middle of the endless sea of sand, two cargo containers stood still.
Silent.
No city lights, no traces of civilization—only the vast sky stretching without limits, filled with constellations too numerous to count.
Above, the Milky Way spread like a wound of light across the darkness—sharp, alien, almost unreal.
A desert wind drifted slowly.
Not strong—just enough to shift grains of sand, dragging them across the surface in a long, whispering motion that felt almost alive.
Ssshhh… Ssshhh…
The sound was constant.
Almost soothing.
Occasionally, there was the faint creak of metal from the cooling containers—random, like something trying to speak but never quite forming a voice.
The two containers stood motionless.
Dark.
There was no light leaking out, nor any sign of life visible from a distance.
As if both containers were nothing more than lifeless objects abandoned in the middle of a world that had already forgotten them.
And yet inside— the air remained stable. Warm. Protected by something unseen.
A boundary. A small domain that rejected the rules of the desert.
Inside one of the containers, Tony Stark lay motionless on a mattress.
His breathing was slow—weak—almost drowning in the suffocating silence.
Each exhale felt like something barely holding on, on the verge of slipping away.
Meanwhile, in the other container, life still pulsed—slow, restrained, as if submerged beneath something invisible.
On the same mattress, Xu Fu sat on Kuro's lap, facing him at a distance that left almost no space between them.
There were no more barriers.
Nothing left hidden.
Skin met skin like two surfaces of water finally merging—warm, trembling, and slowly losing the line that separated them.
Their faces were so close.
Breaths intertwined, stealing from one another, filling one another.
"Nguh...♡ lick...♡ haa...♡"
The two surfaces met again—deeper, longer—like dew falling onto dry earth, absorbed without residue, without resistance.
A warm wetness moved slowly, repeatedly, in an increasingly steady rhythm… like the first rain finally finding its path across barren slopes.
The motion was not rushed.
Yet it was not hesitant either.
Like two currents that had long been restrained, now flowing without a dam—rising, falling, returning again, creating small waves that kept growing in silence.
Xu Fu took a breath—thin, almost broken— not from exhaustion… but because something was slowly creeping from within, spreading through her entire body without permission.
Her hand briefly gripped Kuro's shoulder, then weakened.
Not resisting.
More like… surrendering to the current.
Slowly, their faces parted.
For a moment, a thin thread seemed to stretch between them—fragile, glimmering in the dim light—before it finally snapped and disappeared into the dry night air.
Xu Fu wiped her lips with an indifferent motion, as if nothing had happened.
Yet the faint color on her face—unusual for her—betrayed everything.
"Xu Fu," Kuro's voice remained calm, as flat as ever. "I don't mind if you take mana from my blood. It's more efficient than draining the crystal reserves inside the Gate."
Xu Fu closed her eyes for a moment, pulling back slightly—not fully withdrawing, but like she was giving a pause… or perhaps holding back something that hadn't fully settled yet.
"Didn't you say sharing like this is more efficient?" she replied lightly. "Enough. Don't talk too much. Just do your job, Master."
Of course, she wouldn't admit it.
That something had been left behind in her body—a faint echo of the previous moment—that still hadn't fully disappeared.
Something warm.
Disturbing.
And… making her want to repeat it.
Slowly, Xu Fu opened her eyes again.
Her gaze dropped.
Her movement followed.
Not rushed—measured, almost like someone observing an interesting experiment.
She leaned in closer— close enough for the distance between them to vanish again.
A thin smile formed on her lips.
Not gentle.
More like… mocking.
"Master," she whispered softly, almost like a breath caught between words. "You enjoyed it too, didn't you?"
A brief silence.
"Something like this… with a woman."
Her tone was light, but something else lingered beneath it—something deeper than mere teasing.
"No need to pretend."
___
Author's note:
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