Magic and technology

Tony was pale, barely able to stay on his feet.

John stared at his neck.

Tony struggled to breathe. "Tell me you have Chlorophyll Juice in your house right now."

"Unfortunately, I don't think anyone in my family likes that stuff." John enjoyed watching Tony wobble.

The palladium poisoning in his body had reached nearly ninety percent. It was almost enough to kill him.

He floundered like a fish dying of thirst on dry land.

Seeing his sickly complexion, John kindly asked, "Are you trying to tell me you're about to die here?"

"Yes, and I'm terribly sorry about that." Tony struggled to support himself on the table, still finding time to crack a joke. "Unless you can get me home within ten minutes to replace the damaged neutrons."

"Otherwise, I'll either have shrapnel pierce my heart or die of poisoning."

Clearly, neither was a pleasant way to go.

Tony's reactor had originally been meant to keep death at bay, yet it also brought death with it.

He felt as though he could already see his late parents waving to him.

Thinking of his parents left him unsettled.

The toxins were ravaging his body.

"Father," he murmured in a daze.

His father slowly approached, bent down, and slapped him across the face.

He grimaced in shock.

"Still conscious?" John patted Tony's face, checking his awareness.

The world-famous Iron Man was about to die in his house. Just thinking about it was thrilling.

But to make sure someone would be around to take a beating when Purple Potato arrived, John had no choice but to intervene.

He held a glass of pitch-black liquid and briskly poured it down Tony's throat while he was still dazed.

Its bizarre taste was like a mixture of wetland soil and volcanic ash.

One glass was enough to jolt someone wide awake-and make them scream.

"God, what did you make me drink?" Tony instantly snapped back to his senses. He wanted to throw up, but couldn't. "Was that fertilizer for that tree?"

Tony pointed at the unusually tall cactus growing in the house.

"I'm not about to make you drink that stuff," John said disdainfully.

He tipped up Tony's chin and watched the markings on his neck, which resembled Morse code, gradually disappear.

"You should be thankful my mother likes cooking. Otherwise, I wouldn't have found a cauldron to brew potions in."

Tony also noticed that his body seemed to have recovered somewhat. He looked down at his chest.

The shrapnel that should have been burrowing into his heart had stopped advancing.

The reactor glowed purple, its core replaced by a thin purple shard.

This was no less miraculous than seeing Tony's old man suddenly come back to life and affectionately call his beloved son's name.

John tapped the reactor and said casually, "Very impressive technology. Too bad it poisons people."

He took a pocket watch from his pocket and glanced at it. "The Magic Crystal in your chest should last until you get home."

"Seriously, I'm starting to believe you." Tony stood up and asked John, "Why are you helping me like this?"

"You really aren't very likable," John said casually. "But as luck would have it, I just finished a deal with someone. Having a superhero like you die in my house wouldn't be a good thing, either."

John clapped his hands, stood up, and waved his wand.

The dismantled Iron Man Armor flew toward Tony and fitted itself onto his body.

Tony looked left, then right, before finally turning to John. "Pretty slick way to get dressed," he said in amazement. "Changing clothes must be easy for you."

"I hope you understand, Mr. Stark," John said with a sigh. "You really are annoying."

"One sentence from me is worth millions of dollars." Tony spread his hands.

His interviews were charged by the second, yet someone had called him annoying today.

"Thanks, little wizard."

Tony assumed a takeoff stance. "I'll have the files couriered over. You do know what a courier is, right?"

"Don't make me take you apart again." John smiled amiably, with the threat of Expelliarmus hanging in the air.

Tony smashed through the glass again and flew away.

Looking at the shattered glass, John began to regret not putting Tony Stark's nude photos in the headlines.

As for having the files couriered over?

Holding a USB Drive, John shook his head. "What century is this? Still using paper files?"

Who said someone who studied magic had to live cut off from the world?

With the USB Drive in hand, John decided to find himself a computer first.

Nick Fury, director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division-S.H.I.E.L.D. for short-was usually in control of everything. Now, he was starting to panic.

It should have been time for him to make his entrance, but the disappearance of that playboy Tony Stark had thrown the whole production into uncertainty.

"Motherfucker. Tony Stark hasn't died somewhere, has he?"

After a wild celebration, Tony seemed to have stopped caring altogether. That also told Fury it was the perfect time to step in.

He had known about the palladium poisoning for a long time. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sent Black Widow to go undercover at Tony's side and check on his physical condition along the way.

Because of the Whiplash incident, Black Widow had needed to travel to the United Kingdom to investigate.

Yet in that single night, Tony Stark had thrown a wild house party, fought Colonel Rhodes, and then disappeared.

This was Tony Stark: billionaire, playboy, and the only son of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s founders.

If he died just like that, it would be a tremendous blow to both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers Initiative.

The dark-skinned, one-eyed Fury wore a grim expression as he urged his subordinates to find Tony's trail.

Black Widow returned from her trip dressed in a black agent's outfit. They stood inside the house, which had been left in ruins by the fight at the party.

"Still haven't found him?" Natasha asked, already knowing the answer.

Fury's expression was dark, though his face had been dark to begin with. "S.H.I.E.L.D. was hacked yesterday."

Natasha knew who would do something like that. Unsurprised, she asked, "Stark?"

"Who else could stroll through our systems like they were his own backyard?" Nick Fury said. "We need to find him before he dies of poisoning, or everything we've done will have been for nothing."

Rather than offering something he didn't need, S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to come to his rescue in his hour of need to win this wayward man over.

Just as Fury was considering where Tony might have gone, the roar of flight came from overhead, and someone landed heavily.

A superhero landing.

The missing Iron Man had finally returned home.

"I'll tell the police you're trespassing."

His faceplate opened. Tony looked at the two people in front of him and told Nick Fury, "I don't want to join your super-boy club."

His gaze then settled on the redhead, who was just as sexy in her new outfit.

As smart as he was, how could he still fail to recognize who she was? "You're fired," he said.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "That's not your decision to make."

Right. Tony was no longer the CEO of Stark Industries.

And Natasha was the CEO's assistant, not Tony's.

"Tony, this is Agent Romanoff." Nick Fury was thick-skinned enough to maintain his composure even in this situation.

"When we learned you were sick, Director Fury sent me to observe you," Natasha said, raising an eyebrow.

Son, we're doing this for your own good.

Tony made no comment. Ignoring both of them, he walked straight inside.

After a lesson and some treatment, his mindset was completely different from before. Having struggled with the problem of the element, he now saw a different source of hope.

Fury and Natasha exchanged a glance, puzzled by the change in Tony. Still, they followed him inside to proceed with their plan.

"You appointed Pepper Potts CEO, gave away your property left and right, and let your friend fly off in your iron armor." Fury began his manipulation.

"I didn't give it to him. He took it," Tony retorted.

Fury found that deeply amusing.

Without Tony granting permission, even someone wearing the armor would be wearing nothing but scrap metal.

"Tony, you're in bad shape." Fury reached straight for Tony's neck.

He had assumed that Tony's palladium poisoning would be severe by now.

But when he saw his neck, he froze.

The toxins that should have spread up to his neck had now vanished.

Even Natasha stopped with the lithium dioxide syringe she had prepared.

They stared at Tony's neck as though they had found some rare treasure.

This was completely different from what Natasha had reported.

According to their calculations, Tony's palladium poisoning should have exceeded ninety percent by now.

The plan had changed, and that was thoroughly unwelcome.

Stranger still, who could have solved this problem?

Fury's expression gradually grew serious. "Where were you for the last two hours?"

"You want to know?" Still speaking in his playboy drawl, Tony lay down on the wrecked couch. "I took a trip to Manhattan and fought a guy holding a chopstick."

His answer left them utterly baffled.

Fury's expression shifted between shock and suspicion.

The timely rescue he had prepared had now been thrown off course.

At the mention of Manhattan, a flicker of something crossed Natasha's eyes.

Could it be because of the assassination?