The night wind whipped sand and dust through the dead silence of Gulmira.
The smile on the Ten Rings leader's face was twisted and maniacal. The missile launcher slung over his shoulder was aimed menacingly at Tony.
The familiar "STARK INDUSTRIES" logo on the missile's shell was like a red-hot steel needle, stabbing deep into Tony's eyes.
Using Stark Industries' weapons to end Stark.
The script was dripping with malicious irony.
"Goodbye, Mr. Stark," the leader sneered, his finger about to squeeze the trigger.
Yinsen's heart clenched, and he roared in desperation, "Tony! Get out of the way!"
With a *click*, Tony's faceplate snapped shut, hiding his expression. Cold electronic eyes locked onto the deadly missile.
He didn't dodge.
There was no time to dodge.
In that split second, a bone-jarringly heavy crash came from the sky!
*BOOM—!*
It was as if a fully loaded truck had fallen from a great height, and the entire ground trembled from the impact.
A massive black shadow slammed into the ground between Tony and the leader, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand.
From within the dust, a colossal, powerful figure slowly rose. It was covered in dark red composite armor, its lines sleek and filled with a sense of power. The joints at its shoulders and arms glowed with a faint blue light, making it look like a killing machine from a future battlefield.
It wasn't Tony's armor.
It exuded a different, utterly overwhelming sense of pressure.
Everyone froze, stunned by the sudden turn of events.
The leader was completely dumbfounded, the missile launcher still on his shoulder, momentarily forgetting what he was about to do.
"Threat level: High."
"Target: Locked."
"Elimination protocol: Initiated."
A series of emotionless, electronic tones emanated from the red mech.
The next second, it moved.
With no wasted motion, a giant mechanical hand shot out with a speed that defied its massive frame, snatching the shoulder-fired missile.
*CRUNCH... SCREECH...*
The horrifying sound of twisting metal made everyone's skin crawl.
The launch tube, forged from Stark Industries' special alloy, was like a fragile pretzel in its grip, crushed into a mangled ball of scrap metal.
The leader, paralyzed with terror, dropped the wreckage and tried to run.
But the red mech's other arm had already risen, its five fingers spread wide. A visible arc of electricity sizzled through the air, striking him squarely in the back.
The leader convulsed violently, his eyes rolling back into his head before he fell to the ground, limp, with wisps of smoke rising from his body.
"Threat neutralized."
The red mech turned around. The armor on its chest slowly opened, revealing a soft, pure white material inside, and a familiar, endearingly blank face.
"Hello. I am Baymax, your personal healthcare companion."
The entire area fell silent.
Dr. Yinsen's jaw dropped. He looked at Tony hovering in the air, then at the red god of death on the ground who called itself a "healthcare companion." He felt as if his entire worldview had been shattered and rebuilt multiple times in the span of a few minutes.
Tony slowly descended, his faceplate retracting. Seeing Yinsen's baffled expression, he managed a weary smile. "My son's work. A bit... overly hospitable."
"ROAR—!"
The remaining terrorists finally snapped out of their shock. They screamed, raising their weapons and unleashing a hail of gunfire at the two intruders.
"Baymax! Protect the civilians!" Tony yelled, his arm thrusters flaring as his repulsors lit up once more.
"Acknowledged. Initiating protection mode."
Baymax's massive body immediately sprang into action. It didn't retaliate. Instead, it spread its arms wide, becoming a moving fortress wall, shielding Yinsen and the trembling villagers.
*CLANG! CLANG! DING!*
A dense barrage of bullets hammered against its red armor, creating a shower of sparks but failing to leave so much as a scratch.
"I have detected an elevated heart rate and high levels of adrenaline," Baymax said, turning its head to Yinsen behind it while still blocking the bullets. "I would suggest deep breaths to help alleviate your stress."
Yinsen was speechless.
He desperately wanted to know what kind of genius Tony's son was to have created a monster that could conduct health assessments in the middle of a firefight.
With Baymax as an indestructible shield, Tony no longer had any restraints.
He became a true iron god of war.
Repulsor blasts, shoulder-mounted micro-missiles, wrist-mounted lasers... an array of unbelievable weapons deployed from the Paul Mark III armor, weaving a web of death.
This wasn't a battle; it was a series of precise, surgical strikes.
Tony strictly adhered to his new principles, only destroying weapons and disabling his opponents' ability to fight.
A few minutes later, the gunfire completely ceased.
In the entire camp, aside from the villagers and the unconscious terrorists, not a single person was left standing.
Tony walked over to the crates of weapons the terrorists had piled up like trophies. He stared at the familiar Stark Industries logos, an indescribable mix of emotions churning in his chest.
He raised his hand, aiming his repulsor at the stockpile.
"Goodbye, to the sins of my past."
*BOOM—!*
A pillar of fire lit up the night sky, bright as day, and the violent explosion sent tremors echoing through the valley.
The flames illuminated Tony's face, and behind him, the complex expression on Yinsen's.
The crisis was over.
***
As the first rays of dawn touched the ravaged land, Baymax had reverted to the soft, marshmallow-like robot, using a disinfectant spray to treat a small child's scraped knee. "Treatment complete," it intoned. "A lollipop can help mitigate negative emotions associated with pain. Would you like one?"
Tony walked over to Yinsen. After a long silence, he spoke in a low voice.
"I'm sorry, Yinsen."
His voice was hoarse. "These weapons... they should never have been here. This was all my fault."
Yinsen looked at him and shook his head.
He raised a hand, touching the suit he was wearing. Though a bit damaged, it was still remarkably resilient.
"No, Tony," Yinsen's eyes were moist. "You're wrong. In our most desperate moment, this suit, invented by your son, saved my life. And it allowed me to save more people. Look at them."
He pointed to the survivors, who were now gathered around Baymax, smiles returning to their faces.
"You didn't just bring disaster here. You brought hope," Yinsen's gaze returned to Tony, his eyes filled with sincerity. "You're not Tony Stark, the merchant of death, anymore. You're... a hero now."
*Hero...*
Tony mulled over the word, a complex storm of feelings inside him. He looked at Baymax, who was trying to pull a lollipop from a hidden compartment, and thought of the son back home who argued with him, showed off his graphene, and forced him to wear this protective suit.
A strange new emotion, something like pride, began to bloom in his heart.
"This is nothing," Tony shrugged with feigned nonchalance. "It's just one of Paul's little toys. If you saw his real project, your jaw would hit the floor."
At the mention of his son, Tony's enthusiasm sparked.
"So, Yinsen? Are you interested... in coming back with me? To see what a true genius is creating."
Yinsen's eyes lit up instantly.
As a scientist, nothing excited him more than witnessing the dawn of a new era.
"It would be my honor!" he nodded emphatically.
"Great!" Tony snapped his fingers. "J.A.R.V.I.S., contact Pepper. Have the transport plane come and pick us up. And while you're at it, prepare a lab for our new friend... with the highest level of clearance."
"As you wish, sir."
Everything seemed to be settled, moving toward a new, hopeful future.
Tony, Yinsen, and Baymax—who had shifted back into combat mode for the flight—walked side-by-side toward an open area to await the transport plane.
None of them noticed.
In the shadows of the distant hills, a nearly invisible red dot flickered to life.
Like the eye of a viper lying in wait, the red dot slowly scanned over Baymax's armor, lingered for a moment on the Arc Reactor in Tony's chest, and finally, locked onto the center of Tony's forehead.
Cold. Precise. Devoid of all emotion.
The storm was far from over.