[Tony immediately sought out Obadiah, confronting him outside the venue. As he approached, Obadiah casually pushed away a reporter's camera and muttered, "Stop filming, okay?"]
["Have you seen these photos? Huh? What's going on with Gulmira?" Tony demanded, his voice sharp.]
[Obadiah whispered back, "Tony, Tony… you can't be this naive."]
["You know what? I was naive before!" Tony scoffed. "They told me, 'This is the bottom line, don't cross it!' That's how business works, right?"]
["But what about deals made behind the scenes? Are there any?" Tony pressed, hoping Obadiah would come clean.]
[At that moment, unaware of the tension between them, people nearby called them over for photos. Obadiah turned away, smiling as he walked down the steps. "Come on! Time to take pictures!"]
[Tony clenched his fists but didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone. Reluctantly, he followed Obadiah, standing beside him for the photographs.]
[As the cameras flashed, Obadiah leaned in and whispered, "Tony, do you know who's been stopping you from working? I filed the injunction with the board of directors."]
["I did it to protect you," he added before walking away, leaving Tony standing there, frozen, watching his retreating figure in silence.]
"Is that why you left me standing there that night?" Pepper glared at Tony, arms crossed.
"Yeah… Listen, I'm sorry, Pepper. Really," Tony raised a hand in surrender, his expression genuinely apologetic.
Rhodey, standing off to the side, nudged Banner, who was still engrossed in his work. Banner blinked, realizing what was happening, and quickly followed Rhodey as they both snuck out of the basement.
Once they were upstairs, Rhodey let out a frustrated sigh. "Damn it, Tony! He always finds a way to shove his relationship in my face!"
Banner, now catching on, smirked. "You do realize you're standing here complaining about it, right?"
Rhodey shot him a look. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."
["The journey to Gulmira can only be described as a journey through hell!" A beautiful reporter on TV was broadcasting live from the war-torn region.]
["This is yet another case of violent colonization. Warlords, backed by a mysterious force, have forcibly driven farmers and herdsmen from their peaceful villages."]
["These displaced people are now homeless, forced to find shelter in the ruins of other villages."]
[Tony, adjusting the arm components of the Mark III suit, watched the report in silence.]
["Some have found refuge here—an abandoned Soviet-era steel mill," the reporter continued. Suddenly, the sharp crack of gunfire rang out in the background.]
["The ones behind this violence are foreign militants! The locals call them The Ten Rings!"]
[The camera panned to reveal a familiar figure—Raza.]
["As you can see, these armed forces have seized control. Anyone who dares to resist faces immediate and brutal consequences."]
[As Tony stared at the screen, his eyes darkened at the sight of Stark Industries' weapons in the terrorists' hands. He tightened the final screw on his armor and slowly stood up.]
["Without international intervention, these refugees have no hope." The reporter's voice was heavy with despair.]
[In front of the TV, a desperate woman held up a photograph, pleading for news of her missing husband. "He was kidnapped! Either he's been forced to join them, or he's already dead!"]
[With a sharp hum, energy gathered in Tony's palm, and then—BOOM! A powerful beam of light erupted from his hand, sending shockwaves through the lab.]
[The blast was so strong that several objects on the opposite side of the room shattered, and even a ceiling lamp came crashing down.]
[The reporter's voice echoed in the background: "Desperate refugees clutch old family photos, begging passersby for information. A child asks, 'Where are my parents?'"]
[Tony looked at the destruction he had just caused. His jaw clenched. He exhaled sharply, then strode forward, his mind made up.]
["These people are on the verge of despair. Their only hope is that someone will save them."]
[His reflection in the glass stared back at him. Without hesitation, he raised his hand and fired again—shattering three glass panels in rapid succession.]
1st Gen Uncle Ben studied Tony's expression and shook his head. "He's furious. I can tell. He's taking it out on his own house, but it's not enough. I bet anything—Tony Stark is heading to Gulmira."
Aunt May nodded. "I hope he puts those terrorists where they belong. They deserve nothing less than prison!"
Uncle Ben sighed. "Prison? That's unrealistic. And Tony doesn't look like the type to hold back."
"He was held captive for three months… and Yinsen died because of them," he added. "Tony hates them."
Aunt May hesitated before nodding again. She wanted to believe in justice, but deep down, she knew Uncle Ben was right. These terrorists weren't the kind to surrender quietly.
[Tony stepped onto a platform, and the surrounding mechanical arms immediately sprang to life. One by one, the parts of the Mark III armor rose from their slots.]
[He positioned his feet into the boots, and the automated assembly began. Piece by piece, the armor snapped into place over his body.]
[As the final components locked in, the Arc Reactor on his chest flared to life, its blue-white glow shining through the suit's plating. Finally, the helmet lowered, sealing him inside.]
[The next second, Iron Man shot into the air at breakneck speed, soaring toward Gulmira. As his altitude increased, a deafening sonic boom erupted behind him—he had just broken the sound barrier.]
[Meanwhile, in Gulmira, panic and chaos reigned.]
[The air was thick with dust and smoke from missile strikes. Refugees ran in terror, trying to escape the carnage.]
[Inside their homes, civilians huddled together in fear. The terrorists showed no mercy, kicking down doors and opening fire indiscriminately.]
[One militant casually lobbed a grenade into a small house—BOOM! The structure was reduced to rubble in an instant.]
[Families were herded like cattle, driven toward a wall with their hands over their heads. They had no choice but to obey.]
[The small-time leader Tony had seen in the cave—now a full-fledged warlord—barked orders to his men. "Load the women onto the truck! Unload the weapons! Move it!"]
[A man and his family were forced from their home. A terrorist struck him in the back with the butt of a rifle, sending him to the ground.]
["Please! Please!" His wife sobbed, clinging to their young son.]
[The warlord sneered. "Take him! Put him with the others!"]
[A terrorist dragged the man away, but in the struggle, his son broke free from his mother's arms and ran toward him.]
[The father, desperate, wrenched himself free from his captors and rushed forward, scooping the boy into his arms. The warlord turned, his face twisting in irritation. "What's going on?"]
[He grabbed the child by the back of his collar and threw him into the arms of another soldier. Then, he kicked the father to the ground and began stomping on his chest, again and again.]
["Stop whining! Shut up!!!"]
["Shoot him!" the warlord finally barked, stepping back. "He's useless!"]
[A terrorist raised his rifle, aiming directly at the father's head. The man's wife let out a scream, her son struggling in the soldier's grip, crying out—"Dad!"]
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