Winter Soldier: Tony Stark

Tony was awakened by the pain.

The alien who had grabbed him roughly threw him to the ground, the uneven rocks pressing against his severed arm—now it looked more like a broken tree branch, held together by the tough bark.

He was in so much pain that he was covered in sweat, almost grinding his teeth to powder. The sweat stuck the dust from the ground to his face.

Then he gradually felt numb, and it felt like he couldn't feel his left hand at all anymore, as if something limp was hanging on his shoulder. He looked down and saw that his entire arm had turned black, with too much stagnant blood, which made him dizzy.

Even in this situation, Tony knew clearly that if he delayed any longer, his arm would be beyond saving, and he might even lose his life because of it.

He immediately wanted to call for help, glancing around and seeing several messy feet stuck together.

One of the Sakaaran, with his bluish-grey skin, glared at the scavengers with displeasure. "Mitchell, what are you doing here with this kind of trash?"

After Sakaar entered a new era, the scavengers on the planet did not disappear, because a large amount of garbage remained. These things were both garbage and wealth. If you were lucky enough to find something valuable and hand it over to the Imperial Capital, you could rise to the top in one step.

However, whether in the past or present, someone like Tony Stark is never worthless.

This kid doesn't seem to have any skills, and he's missing an arm. He's worthless whether you put him in the arena or throw him into the mine; nobody would want to buy him.

A year or two ago, he still had some value; he could be killed to give everyone a change of pace and at least have a meal.

But now, the Galactic Plumbers have taken control of Sakaar and enacted many laws. Any creature with advanced intelligence is now considered inedible. Besides, things are different now. Even scavengers don't lack food. After the planet's recovery, food and livestock production have increased significantly. No one would risk eating an alien of unknown origin.

Who knows if the other person has any infectious diseases, or if there are toxins in some part of their body?

That white pig looks like it's been injected with a lot of drugs...

"You've made a wasted trip! Mitchell, I'm not spending a penny on a cripple!" The mine owner, a Sakaaran, coldly shook his head, glancing at Tony without a trace of pity. "I dare say, this kind of trash wouldn't be able to do a single thing in the mine, and I'd have to feed him. What a waste! Those prisoners are much stronger than him; I think you made a mistake bringing him along!"

"You can't say that, Baker. I've already gone, I can't leave empty-handed... Besides, since I'm already here... How about this, I won't ask for money, just give me a bag of Amber Ogia Fruit, I'll trade the fruit for it."

Scavenger Mitchell scratched his head; his messy hair looked like it was full of lice, giving him the appearance of someone who wouldn't leave empty-handed.

"If it doesn't work out, just feed him to the giant beasts. Anyway, he fell out of the wormhole, so it's no big deal if he dies."

"A bag of Amber Ogia Fruit... alright." The Gray Sakaaran stroked his chin, thought for a moment, and then gave a reluctant look. "But, Mitchell, I'm telling you, next time if you find someone strong and healthy, don't forget me."

"Of course, of course... Hmm, what's that noise... That kid seems to have woken up?"

Tony heard a commotion. His arm injury had left him in very bad shape, and his vision was still blurry, but at least he knew that his life was probably spared for the time being.

He looked up and saw rows of footsteps moving toward him. The two leading figures were Mitchell and the Sakaaran Mine Owner — Tony knew he would probably be working for him for the next few days.

"No matter what price he paid, now that he's bought me, he probably won't let me die easily..."

He thought this was a good opportunity to call for help.

Next, you should demonstrate your value and then gain the opportunity to have an equal dialogue with the other party.

Tony was very confident in this regard.

No matter the circumstances, a person's intelligence and true talent will never betray them; they will always find a way out through their own wisdom.

If he seizes this opportunity, he might be able to use their power to contact the Galactic Plumbers and the Ben, and save the Earth!

His mind grew increasingly foggy, but his consciousness and thoughts remained clear.

As the two men approached, he opened his mouth to beg for help, his voice weak and hoarse. "Help me... I can help you, I'm a technician..."

He was interrupted before he could finish speaking.

The Sakaaran kicked Tony in the left shoulder, sending the already injured Tony rolling several times on the ground. His previously curled-up body now lay sprawled out like a dead dog, and his left arm twisted and swayed to one side.

Then he grabbed a huge, rusty axe, raised it high above his head, and the shadow of the axe loomed over Tony's pained face.

"You're supposed to work for me; you're my property!"

After saying that, he swung the axe down hard—blood gushed out, and something that looked no better than a twisted dough stick flew out.

"Ah!!!"

Pain instantly spread throughout Tony's body from the cut on his shoulder. He curled up and reached out to try to pinch his wound, but it was already empty. Only blood had stained half of his body red in an instant, and his throat was hoarse as if it had been broken.

Besides the physical pain, what tormented Tony even more was the fact that he had lost one of his arms forever.

"Annoying thing!" Baker glared at him with disgust, pulled out a can of something that looked like insecticide, and sprayed a stream of Bingbing white mist into Tony's left shoulder wound with a "hiss—" instantly stopping the bleeding. Then he turned to the others and ordered, "Stitch him up with an arm, anything from the garbage dump will do, then dump him in the mine!"

As he spoke, Baker disdainfully kicked Tony's severed arm aside, making a "tsk tsk" sound.

Then a creature that looked like an alien dog suddenly appeared from some corner, opened its mouth full of fangs, and chewed up the arm, bone and all, and swallowed it in a few bites.

Tony watched helplessly as the vicious dog devoured his left hand in a few bites.

Then, several red-skinned and gray-skinned men came over, dragged Tony by his legs, and carried him away. He didn't even have time to utter a complete sentence, but his gaze towards the Sakaaran was filled with utter hatred.

After that, he went to a mine on Sakaar.

Here, many people wear prison uniforms and are crammed into the cold, damp cells of the mine, surviving on a single yellow fruit given to them by the Mine Owner each day.

The cells here don't even have wooden plank beds; they're just covered with straw like pigsties, barely enough to be considered a place to sleep.

He was exhausted, and a rusty arm had been roughly attached to his left shoulder, making him look like a low-budget version of the Winter Soldier.

More importantly, he didn't know if it was a rejection reaction, tetanus caused by rust piercing his skin, or simply inflammation. In any case, half of his body was in excruciating pain. If he could pass out, he might feel better, but the pain and hatred made his mind incredibly clear.

How could Tony Stark, a man of such stature, have ever suffered such humiliation?

Even back in the Middle East, when terrorists needed his help, they would do everything they could to keep him alive. But that gray-skinned guy treated him like a lowly slave, as brutally as he had treated black slaves centuries ago.

Of course, Tony was well aware that the other party cutting off his arm had actually saved his life.

Otherwise, if the injury to that arm is left untreated for a long time, it will quickly become infected and lead to his death.

His left hand clearly still had a chance of being healed, but that guy so brutally chopped it off. In an instant, what he thought was Heaven turned into hell, and what he thought was hope turned into despair, which he found hard to accept.

He bent his knees and leaned against the corner of the cell, the pain numbing his body. He didn't say a word, glancing at the other prisoners out of the corner of his eye.

Most of them were blue-skinned aliens, and there were also some red-skinned ones who looked very similar to the people who brought him here. To him, these aliens were no different except for their skin color.

While Tony was observing the others, these images had already been synchronized to Earth.

Seeing Tony Stark suffer such torment, and now missing a hand, with no idea how much more pain he would face, people's hatred for him lessened considerably.

After all, putting everything else aside, although many of them went to prison because of Ultron, in the end, Earth's prisons are just like that. They have a balanced diet every day, and their working hours are regulated. As long as they behave themselves, they won't have any major problems until they are released.

Even in the worst prison conditions, at least there's a bed...

But Tony Stark's situation was much worse; nobody knew how many days he would survive.

This is why Pepper specifically sought out Ben to plead for Tony.

She was genuinely afraid that Tony would die on Sakaar.

She couldn't even imagine how much suffering Tony would endure in the days to come, having sustained such severe injuries on just the first day.

Earth.

Primus.

After Ultron was defeated, the area returned to its original order.

Wanda released everyone from Mind Control, making them forget their past obedience to Ultron, even though Ultron had never given them any orders in the first place.

They don't deserve Ultron's attention.

In short, by using their Mind Control abilities, Wanda and Quicksilver extricated themselves from the incident to avoid being used by malicious individuals to attack them and to prevent any rumors from arising that could be detrimental to the Galactic Plumbers or Primus.

It's fair to say that no one has noticed these things so far, not even a certain deposed god.

Now, Thor has adapted to life on Earth.

He set aside his arrogance as a god and, with Jane Foster's help, slowly began to accept everything on Earth.

In this timeline, he is not the Thor Thor the main universe who has only a superficial understanding of Earth; rather, he is more like a native New York.

He knew what email was. Using his salary as a security guard at Primus, he bought himself a cell phone and a computer. After work, he would have an ice-cold beer with Foster, then sit on the sofa and stay up all night watching a large group of people fight over a black and white ball.

For him recently, he's been watching Tony Stark's live stream on Sakaar.

He felt extremely saddened by Tony Stark's ordeal on Sakaar.

"Watching Tony Stark again?" Jane Foster saw him looking down at his phone with a worried expression, and knew that her blond boy was watching the live stream again.

Thor nodded, downed a whole can of beer in one gulp, then crumpled the can into a ball and threw it in the trash.

Clang--

A basket of crushed aluminum cans collided together.

"If you keep drinking like this, I think you'll gain at least four hundred pounds." Jane Foster glared at him, then sat on the armrest of the sofa and vigorously ruffled Thor's short blond hair.

"I'm starting to wonder if what's flowing in your veins is blood or beer."

"I just think he's a bit like me." Thor sighed. He hadn't hidden his identity from Jane Foster, but he was no longer the Prince of Asgard.

"In that case, it is true." Jane Foster nodded and said, "You are both of noble birth. You are a prince of Asgard, who should have inherited the throne of the God King. He is the heir to Stark Industries, one of the richest people on Earth. And now, you are exiled to Earth, and he was exiled to space by Ultron, ending up in this predicament."

Thor nodded.

Seeing Tony suffer, he did feel a sense of shared misery.

However, Thor then shook his head with a wry smile, took Foster's hand, pressed it to his face, and said sweetly:

"But his situation is much worse than mine."

"At least I met you, which is the luckiest thing that ever happened to me." The burly, muscular man uttered these cheesy words. "Besides, I know that Asgard is now incredibly safe. Although Loki has given up the throne, he can always take up the Hammer of Thor to protect Asgard."

Just as he said, Thor had no worries whatsoever.

He had accepted his fate. As long as his father and Mother Empress were safe and sound, and as long as Loki was safe, what did it matter if he stayed here?

But how could fate allow his life to be so smooth?