Continue Your Performance

"Those 15 miles to the outskirts of Gulmira could only be called a road to hell..."

"The recent violence has been blamed on a group of foreign soldiers, known to the locals as... the 'Ten Rings.'"

"They are well-armed and have clear objectives..."

"The refugees can only wonder if anyone will come to help..."

Oaks and Dr. Yinsen watched the news report with blank expressions.

The footage was clear. Dr. Yinsen's eyes twitched violently at the familiar faces and familiar weapons.

"Raza Hamidmi, leader of the Ten Rings. It seems he's not resigned to his last defeat."

Dr. Yinsen had once thought he'd escaped that man for good:

"Looks like he not only survived the last explosion but has come back stronger... 'Stark Industries Manufactured'... Hah, seems Tony's facing a major crisis now."

In the news footage, the weapons used by the Ten Rings had their markings scrubbed for some reason, but Dr. Yinsen recognized them at a glance.

They were high-end weapons from Stark Industries—the former military-industrial giant that had supposedly shut down its weapons division months ago.

Weapons of that caliber couldn't be produced anywhere in the US or the world, not even by Hammer Industries, which desperately tried to ride Stark's coattails.

"Oaks... will Tony know about this?"

Dr. Yinsen watched his homeland's people forced to flee, slowly took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose:

"I trust Tony. He's a man of his word. I watched the recording of his press conference shutting down the weapons division. But now..."

"Relax. That guy will handle it."

A grin tugged at Oaks' lips, and a sudden impulse struck him:

"Dr. Yinsen, do you know the exact coordinates of that place?"

"Yes, I do, but..."

"Tell me. I think someone's about to lose his patience... Want to see the firsthand footage?"

Dr. Yinsen stared blankly at Oaks. After a long moment, he broke into a smile:

"Yes. I'd like to see that."

In the small town of Gulmira, the Ten Rings' new weapons depot welcomed an armored avenger that day.

After putting on a show of "real men never look back at explosions," Tony used his newly developed hand repulsors to destroy the entire depot.

But just as he was about to leave, his radar picked up something strange.

"Sir, you are being watched by an interesting creature. It is quite rare."

"Uh... hello?"

Tony stared at a rock where a falcon tilted its head at him, locking eyes for ten seconds.

"Listen, I don't know if a bird like you belongs here, but I draw the line at you wearing a camera around your neck."

"That is a falcon, sir, but significantly larger than the average specimen."

Jarvis helpfully supplied the data:

"And while its range includes the Middle East, this one does not appear to be a local breed."

Then Tony's eye twitched as the oversized falcon stood on one claw and used the other to flip him off.

"What the hell!"

"Nice outfit, buddy~ Keep up the show~"

The falcon bared its beak in a mocking grin—God knows how a bird managed that expression:

"But you just got hit by a shell, didn't you? I caught it all on camera~"

"I'm gonna roast you!"

"Whoosh--!"

A flash of emerald light, and the falcon shot into the sky, about to vanish.

"Jarvis, chase that bastard down!"

Tony burst out laughing:

"Oaks! You little chicken who can't even drive a car, and you dare race me in the air?!"

He shot upward, catching up in seconds to the falcon wrapped in a thin emerald glow:

"You switched careers to journalism?! Weren't you a little swallow before?"

"Swift, the swift, thank you very much. That was my speed form. This is my air-combat form."

Oaks tilted his head:

"Dr. Yinsen was afraid you'd do something stupid, so I took a trip. But the rest is on you—

Don't forget to pick up the necklace. Later!"

Tony's jaw dropped as a faint streak of light flashed past—the Falcon had instantly transformed into the tiny Swift he'd seen before. A green light flickered, a sonic boom cracked, and it was gone without a trace.

"Shit!"

Tony yelped:

"Jarvis! How the hell can that thing fly that fast?!"

"Yes, sir. Dr. Oaks just reached Mach five. At the Mark III's speed, we can't catch him."

"Is that a speed any normal bird can hit?!"

Tony cursed, though he remembered that no normal cheetah could turn invisible either...

"Sir, you've been locked by radar."

"..."

He finally understood what Oaks meant by "handle it yourself."

"Hey, who? Rhodey? Noise? I'm driving with the top down!"

"Huh? Breathing? Yeah, I'm jogging through a canyon."

"Driving? Right, I drove to the canyon to jog."

Jarvis: "Sir, you've been locked by two F-22 fighters."

"Oh shit, I need to get off this highway!"

Oaks had already returned to the Benevolence Society headquarters.

Mach five? That was just the starting speed.

In the Swift form, boosted by Nature Force, his top speed could currently reach Mach ten—ten times the speed of sound!

Tony was still tangling with the F-22s; Oaks made it back in under an hour.

"Absolutely spectacular."

Dr. Yinsen watched the first-hand footage Oaks had recorded, then carefully stored the camera away:

"This is a one-of-a-kind recording, very commemorative—

I never thought he'd already upgraded the armor to this extent."

He rubbed his chin, thinking about the Mechanical Prosthetic he'd developed, then shrugged helplessly:

"See? That's the gap—genius versus the ordinary. But what now?

Since Tony did this and the U.S. military caught wind of it, this won't blow over. The military will absolutely want that tech. Tony's in for a huge mess."

"No problem. They don't have proof. Current military radar can't capture an image that small."

Oaks naturally knew how things would play out, but Tony's exposure was inevitable.

"He's not going to stay quiet from here on out. Keep in mind, with Tony's brain, there's no way he won't figure out who set him up.

Those Stark Industries weapons—no question they came from the board, or at least from a director with real power.

And what his counterattack looks like... that's something worth waiting for."

"Oaks, if Tony's in danger..."

Dr. Yinsen trailed off.

"Relax. If he dies, I can't bring him back. But as long as he's still breathing, I can still save him."

Oaks thought for a moment, then couldn't help adding:

"Dr. Yinsen, I have to say—after your personal guidance, Tony's leaning more and more toward 'going off-script.'"

"Huh? Really?"

Dr. Yinsen scratched his bald head and laughed awkwardly:

"Maybe that's a good thing. Science always needs a few surprises, haha, hahaha..."