Dr. Yinsen was completely baffled. His brows furrowed as he stared at Henry, who stood there perfectly fine despite the chaos moments ago.
"You're unscathed?! How?!" Yinsen finally blurted, unable to keep the question to himself any longer.
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized how strange that might have sounded and quickly added, "Not that I wanted you to get hurt, of course. I'm just... really curious. How did you avoid those bullets?"
Henry scratched his head, looking equally puzzled. "I didn't dodge anything... I just stood there."
"I didn't dodge either," Yinsen said with a sigh, glancing down at his own bandaged arm. "Then why am I the only one who got hit?!"
It was a valid question. The gunfight had been chaotic—bullets flying in every direction, ricocheting off walls, smoke and shouting filling the cramped space. Yet somehow, not a single scratch on Henry. And not just that—he had taken down multiple armed terrorists in that confined cave with shocking precision.
Yinsen wasn't the only one confused. Henry himself was stunned.
"I... don't get it either," Henry admitted. "I mean, everything was happening so fast. I just picked up the gun and—bam!—next thing I know, everyone else is on the ground, and I'm fine. Not even a graze."
"Do you think maybe I'm... just lucky?" he asked.
Yinsen couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. "No, Henry. You're not just lucky. You're incredibly lucky."
It was true—skill might explain the shooting, but surviving a crossfire like that without even flinching? That could only be chalked up to divine intervention… or a very generous stroke of fate.
But there wasn't time to dwell on it.
The brief silence was broken by a booming voice outside the cave.
"Stark! If you don't come out right now, we'll throw in a bomb!"
Henry's face paled instantly. The cave wasn't big—if a bomb went off in here, none of them would make it out alive.
Fortunately, there was a silver lining.
The arc reactor in Tony's armor had just been powered up. As the glowing core hummed to life, Tony stood up and walked toward the exit, now clad in his bulky, metallic prototype suit.
Dr. Yinsen's eyes welled up with joy. "Finally! We're getting out of here!"
His excitement got the better of him, and he started coughing violently.
Tony paused. "Are you hurt?"
"It's nothing," Yinsen said, shaking his head. "Just a small injury."
Tony frowned, but didn't push the issue. "You bought me time, Yinsen. I won't forget this."
Yinsen smiled and quickly pointed at Henry. "It wasn't me. It was him. Henry held the terrorists off for you."
Tony's eyes widened. "What?!"
He turned and looked at the bodies on the floor, then back at the college-age kid who still had a nervous grin on his face.
"You did all that?" Tony asked, astonished.
"Y-yeah," Henry replied, rubbing his neck. "I guess I did."
"He was amazing," Yinsen added. "His aim was flawless. Every shot hit its mark."
Tony looked dumbfounded. "Flawless aim?"
He didn't have time to press for more details. The enemy was still outside.
"Alright, Henry. You saved us. But we'll have time to talk later. Right now, we need to leave."
With Tony in his armor leading the charge, the three of them made a break for it.
The terrorists panicked at the sight of the armored figure charging out of the cave. Bullets bounced off Tony's metal plating as he retaliated with flamethrowers and makeshift rockets.
Chaos erupted.
Explosions lit up the desert night as Tony rampaged through their camp. Those who survived turned and fled, their morale shattered.
Seeing their chance, the trio escaped into the desert.
Unfortunately, the prototype suit didn't last long. After a few miles, it broke down—probably from the damage it had taken during the battle.
But just as things were starting to look bleak, a rescue aircraft appeared on the horizon.
They were saved.
When Henry stepped aboard the aircraft, a massive wave of relief washed over him. He collapsed into a seat, heart still pounding.
I actually made it out alive…
The battle was over. But the reality of living in the Marvel universe was just beginning. No identity. No papers. No support system.
How was he supposed to survive here?
New York, United States.
No one said a word during the flight. Hours passed before they finally landed at a military base.
As soon as they disembarked, Tony approached Henry directly.
"Henry, right?" he asked. "Where do you live? I'll have someone take you home."
Henry hesitated, unsure how to respond.
"I… don't have a home," he replied honestly.
Tony blinked. "No home? What about your family?"
"There was a family before," Henry said vaguely. "But now... they're gone."
Tony misunderstood the implication, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, kid. That's rough."
Without another word, he turned and called out, "Pepper! Come here."
A tall, elegant blonde woman quickly approached. Henry instantly recognized her—Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's famous personal assistant.
"Take Henry to my apartment," Tony said. "Make sure he's comfortable."
Pepper nodded and motioned for Henry to follow her to a sleek black Bentley.
Once inside, she glanced over at him. "I heard you helped Tony escape. Thank you for that."
Henry smiled shyly. "I just did what I could."
"You must be exhausted," she said kindly. "We'll head straight to the apartment. Want anything to eat?"
Henry didn't even need to think. "Hot pot."
Pepper blinked. "Hot pot?"
"I know it's a bit niche," Henry added, "but it's comfort food."
"Got it. I'll have the chef prepare it," she said and immediately made a call.
Fifteen minutes later, the car rolled to a stop.
Pepper stepped out first and opened the door for him. "Here we are."
Henry stepped out—and froze.
"Wait a minute… didn't you say apartment?"
They were standing in front of a luxurious villa that looked like it belonged to royalty.
"Tony calls this an apartment," Pepper replied casually. "He said to give it to you as thanks. Everything's been cleaned and restocked. Here's the key."
She handed it to him like it was no big deal.
Henry stared at the key, then back at the house, stunned. He hadn't even helped that much!
"Uh… tell Tony thanks," he finally managed to say.
"You're welcome to call the service line if you need anything," Pepper added with a warm smile. "I'll take my leave now."
"Goodbye, Pepper."
After she left, Henry rushed inside like an excited tourist.
He'd never seen a place like this in person. It was massive. Every room was pristine and modern, filled with high-end furniture and enough amenities to host a celebrity gala.
And its location? Just a couple blocks from central Manhattan. Prime real estate.
This was no ordinary "thank you" gift.
Henry finally collapsed onto a soft bed, letting out a long breath.
So far, things had gone suspiciously well.
No injuries. No death. No homelessness.
All signs pointed to one conclusion: he was extremely lucky.
"Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket," Henry muttered with a laugh.
But the moment he said that, something strange happened.
The world around him shattered.
Literally.
The air cracked like glass, reality splintering into fragments. Within seconds, he was surrounded by a kaleidoscope of floating shards, each reflecting a distorted version of the world.
"What the hell?!" Henry shouted, sitting up in alarm.
Then, he saw her.
A figure in yellow robes and a hood stood calmly amidst the chaos.
She stepped forward and slowly removed her hood—revealing a clean-shaven head and wise, piercing eyes.
Henry's jaw dropped.
The bald head. The mystical garb. The surreal surroundings.
There was no mistaking it.
It was her.
The Ancient One.
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