The snowy peaks of Kamar-Taj were a jarring contrast to the blistering Afghan desert Ethan had just been standing in ten minutes ago.
He stepped out of the portal into the Ancient One's private tearoom. She was already sitting at the low wooden table, calmly pouring two cups of steaming green tea.
"Master, you called?" Ethan asked, dropping onto a cushion across from her. "If it's about the repair bill for the New York Sanctum's front doors, I can explain. A bunch of miscellaneous fish decided to aggressively redecorate."
The Ancient One smiled gently, pushing a teacup toward him. "I am aware of the zealots, Ethan. You handled them with... remarkable efficiency. The dark mages are currently terrified of New York. Master Thomas never managed to achieve such a reputation in forty years."
"I aim to please," Ethan grinned, taking a sip of the hot tea. "So, what's the urgent business?"
"You meddled in something unnecessary," she said, her tone perfectly even.
"Oh, about that... I was just a little bored sitting in the Sanctum all day. I went out for a stroll."
"And brought back Tony Stark," she said, her expression entirely unchanged.
"Hey, I did not bring him!" Ethan defended himself, raising his hands. "He just jumped right through my portal. The guy has zero survival instincts."
"Is that so?" The Ancient One took a sip of her tea. "You know, Ethan, even though I said your presence does not cause the timeline to branch out, some things are generally better left as they are. The birth of Iron Man was one of them."
"I know," Ethan nodded. "That's exactly why I didn't interfere with the suit's construction. I was just an observer."
"An observer, you say." The Ancient One placed her cup down. "Though Tony Stark has still become Iron Man, he is now entirely aware of the magical world. For a man who is inherently cursed by knowledge... will he still be able to stick to his natural journey now that he has seen someone casually bend the laws of physics?"
She paused, looking at Ethan's slightly guilty expression, and then let out a rare, genuine laugh that echoed lightly in the room. "You plucked the centerpiece of the coming era out of the desert and dropped him into a Sanctum. I told you your fate was a blind spot, Ethan, but you certainly waste no time testing the limits."
"Is it going to cause a problem?"
"For the universe? No," she smiled. "If anything, it is a better outcome. A stronger, more prepared protector on the side of humanity is a benefit. That is not why I called you."
"Then why did you? I totally thought I was getting scolded."
"I called you to check on your condition," she said, her ancient eyes suddenly piercing right through him. "I saw the aftermath of the zealots in your foyer. I sensed very intense dark magic. Spells that twist the body and torture the mind."
"Ah... about that," Ethan coughed, frantically trying to come up with an excuse for using Cruciatus and Transmogrification in front of his boss.
"There is no need to make excuses," the Ancient One interrupted softly. "I am not going to scold you for that either. Just because a spell is classified as 'dark' magic does not inherently mean it is evil. Dark magic is restricted because of how adversely it corrupts the soul of the user."
She looked closely at him, her expression softening into relief. "And that is why I called you. Seeing you now, I can be assured that your spirit is completely untouched. You wield the dark arts without letting them sink into your mind."
Ethan mentally thanked his Dumbledore template and his own transmigrator gamer-mentality. To him, spells were just tools in a hotbar.
****
Back in New York, a sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up to the curb outside 177A Bleecker Street.
Happy Hogan stepped out of the driver's seat, looking highly skeptical. He checked the address on his phone, then looked up at the creepy, Victorian-style mansion with the massive, circular window on the top floor. It looked exactly like the kind of house where teenagers disappeared in slasher movies.
He walked up the steps, clutching a large paper bag from Burger King, and rang the heavy brass doorbell.
The door creaked open. Wong stood there, his face completely devoid of expression.
"Uh... I'm here for Tony Stark?" Happy said, trying to look tough as a bodyguard should, but instinctively taking half a step back from the intense, robed man.
Wong simply opened the door wider and stepped aside.
Happy walked into the grand foyer, expecting to see a kidnapper's den. Instead, he found Tony Starkāsoot-covered, bruised, and smelling like a grease fireāsitting cross-legged on a priceless 14th-century Persian rug. Sitting next to him was a Middle Eastern man in ragged clothes.
"Happy!" Tony cheered, struggling to his feet. "Tell me you got the double cheeseburgers."
"Boss," Happy breathed a massive sigh of relief, rushing forward and handing over the bag. "I got them. Pepper is going absolutely out of her mind. The military called her five minutes ago saying you vanished from the crater. How the hell did you get to New York?!"
"Long story, Hap. Involves a magical floating head and a lot of vomiting," Tony said, pulling a burger out of the bag and taking a massive, desperate bite. He tossed a second burger to Yinsen, who caught it like it was the Holy Grail.
"Mr. Stark, we really need to get you to a hospital," Happy urged, looking at the glowing blue arc reactor shining through Tony's torn shirt. "And maybe call the FBI?"
"No hospitals. No FBI. Drive me to the press conference," Tony said with his mouth full. He turned back to Yinsen. "Doc, you're coming with me. You need a job, right? Stark Industries needs a new chief medical researcher. Or a life coach. We'll figure it out."
Yinsen smiled warmly, taking a bite of his burger. "I think I would like that, Tony."
Tony turned to Wong, pointing at him with a greasy French fry. "And you. Don't think I forgot. A brand new, lag-free prototype smartphone will be delivered to this address tomorrow. Keep this creepy museum safe."
"Appreciated, Mr. Stark," Wong bowed slightly.
*****
By the time Ethan Apparated back into the Sanctum lobby, the Rolls-Royce was gone. Only Wong was left, quietly sweeping up a stray piece of lettuce from the Persian rug.
"They left?" Ethan asked, tossing his leather jacket over the banister and heading upstairs.
"Yes. Mr. Stark promised me a new phone," Wong said, following him up to the living quarters. "I believe he is going to make an announcement to the press."
"Oh, this is the best part," Ethan grinned, dropping onto the plush leather sofa and grabbing his remote. He turned on the 70-inch TV and flipped to the news networks.
Sure enough, every major channel was broadcasting live from the Stark Industries press room. Tony Stark was sitting on the floor in front of the podium, eating his Burger King cheeseburger, while a frantic Obadiah Stane hovered behind him trying to do damage control.
Tony stood up, walking to the podium and looking out at the massive crowd of reporters.
"I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them," Tony said, his voice echoing through Ethan's surround-sound speakers. "And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability."
He took a breath.
"Therefore, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries."
The reporters on the TV absolutely lost their minds, erupting into a deafening frenzy of flashing cameras and shouting.
"And so it begins," Ethan smiled, turning down the volume. He leaned back on the couch and rubbed his hands together. "Alright, System. Let's see what you gave me for playing multiversal Uber."
He pulled up his interface.
[ Opening Random Tech Blueprint...]
[ Item Acquired: Capsule Corporation Hoi-Poi Capsule Technology (Dragon Ball Universe)]
Rarity: SR
Description: The complete manufacturing blueprints and theoretical physics required to compress matter and store objects of any size into tiny, pocket-sized capsules.
Ethan's eyes went wide. He sat bolt upright on the couch. "Hoi-Poi Capsules? You've got to be kidding me."
This was massive. Spatial folding and his dimensional pocket were great, but they required active magical upkeep and had distinct limits based on his mana pool. Hoi-Poi capsules were pure, unadulterated science. If he could figure out how to manufacture these things, he could carry entire arsenals, vehicles, or even a spare house in his pocket without using a single drop of magic.
"System, you beautiful, degenerate machine," Ethan praised.
He now had the perfect project to keep his genius brain busy. And considering he was currently residing in New Yorkāa city scheduled to be overrun by aliens, robots, and supervillains in the very near futureāhaving the ability to capsule away heavy artillery was going to be the ultimate trump card.