Shimmering light seemed like an illusion, like a dream.
Strange and bizarre, fantastical and grotesque.
Tony Stark did not know how to describe what he was feeling.
It was as though he had fallen into the clouds, or lay sleeping on a pillow of cotton candy, filled with sweetness.
All sorts of strange scenes continuously surfaced and faded in his mind.
The first time he earned a perfect score, he had longed for his father's praise, but all he received was the old man's indifference.
"I'm busy."
His father had merely glanced at the report card without any reaction.
Just like you, Father.
Tony had remained silent with that thought in mind.
Then, in the next second—or perhaps after a very long time—he found himself at home on Christmas Eve.
He had gotten into another argument with his father over sleeping in, but it had also been the last one.
"No, don't."
As if he had anticipated what the next scene would be, Tony struggled madly, yet he could not escape the nightmare-like spectacle.
Someone knocked on the front door. Butler Jarvis brought terrible news: both his father and mother were dead.
"No, don't!"
Like the release of tension after an intense battle, Tony abruptly opened his eyes. His back was drenched as though he had been caught in the rain.
"You're awake."
A gentle voice sounded beside his ear.
His consciousness returned, and he looked around.
Tony discovered that he was inside an enormous cave.
Torches hanging from the rocky walls drove away the deep darkness, illuminating a vaguely visible Mediterranean.
A man in a white lab coat sat at a battered table, fiddling with something. After glancing at Tony, he explained, "The good news is, you're not dead."
"The bad news is, you've been kidnapped by these bandits."