About half a month ago, Tony Stark came across an ancient, dust-covered book in the ruins of a forgotten collection. The book was written in cryptic languages and riddled with strange illustrations—diagrams of glowing runes, battle-worn beasts, and something that caught Stark's attention instantly: spells.
Not just any spells. The book described an ancient demon known as the Holy Lord and his twelve mystical talismans, each holding unimaginable power. Some granted super strength, some invisibility, others immortality or elemental control. It was the kind of magical nonsense Tony would have dismissed in his younger years—before aliens invaded New York, Norse gods dropped by for drinks, and sorcerers started opening portals in the middle of Manhattan.
Now, he took these things seriously.
Driven by curiosity and the usual Stark bravado, he began researching the twelve charms. And after weeks of digging through obscure files and private collectors' notes, he finally found the lead he'd been looking for.
The Rat Charm—said to have the power to bring inanimate objects to life—had surfaced at a second-hand furniture auction.
He assumed it would be an easy pickup. A million-dollar bid would scare off any ordinary collector. Who would spend seven figures on an old desk lamp with a decorative mouse engraving?
He hadn't expected competition.
Especially not ten million dollars' worth.
But Tony was Tony. Money wasn't an issue. It never had been.
So he'd dropped a casual one hundred million—a bid so outrageous that it silenced the room and practically gave the auctioneer a heart attack. The man looked like he was about to faint from joy as he hammered the gavel and concluded the sale.
In the back row, Selena turned toward her boss, Shawn, with a helpless look on her face.
"Boss…" she said softly, hesitant. "I don't think we can outbid that…"
She knew Shawn's financial limits. A few million here and there? Doable. But a hundred million? Absolutely not. Shawn might've been powerful, mysterious, and otherworldly in every sense of the word—but money wasn't something he particularly cared for.
He had once told her that when he was in hell, he'd collected a hoard of gold and diamonds, piled into mountains. But up here on Earth? That treasure might as well be rocks. He couldn't just walk into a bank and trade hell-diamonds for cash.
"Nope," Shawn replied flatly. "We're not paying that."
"Then… are we giving up?" she asked, surprised. It wasn't like him to walk away from something he wanted.
"Let's go," he said.
Selena stared at him, shocked. Was he really just walking away?
To outsiders, Shawn might appear to be just another eccentric doctor—maybe a world-renowned surgeon, or a brilliant psychologist depending on who you asked.
But Selena had seen his true nature.
She'd once been cornered by more than a dozen armed men. She was seconds away from death when Shawn showed up out of nowhere. With a simple snap of his fingers, everyone dropped unconscious at once—silent, still, like puppets with their strings cut.
From that day on, she knew he wasn't human.
So the idea that such a person would simply walk away from the artifact he'd sought... it didn't sit right.
Still, she followed.
Everyone else remained too stunned by the ridiculous bid to notice their exit.
Back in the car, Selena turned to him.
"So, what now?"
Shawn leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on the luxury sports car parked near the auction exit.
"We rob him."
Selena blinked. "Excuse me?"
"We rob Tony Stark."
Silence.
For a full five seconds, Selena simply stared at him like he'd grown a second head.
Then she laughed nervously. "You're joking… right?"
Shawn didn't respond.
Her heart dropped. "You're not joking…"
"Of course not," he said.
Selena groaned. "Boss, that's Tony Stark. Billionaire. Genius. The Iron Man. Superhero. Avenger. Are we really doing this?"
"You are," Shawn replied smoothly.
She stared. "Wait, what?! Why me?!"
"Because I'm the boss."
There it was again. That unshakable, annoyingly calm tone. The kind that shut down all debate.
Before she could object further, the man himself—Tony Stark—appeared at the exit of the building, holding the desk lamp in his hand, proudly carrying his hundred-million-dollar prize.
"Perfect timing," Shawn murmured.
Then, without warning, he raised his hand—and snapped his fingers.
The air rippled.
Within seconds, Tony Stark's eyes drooped, his stride faltered, and he staggered like he was drunk.
"What the hell—" he mumbled, then collapsed to the pavement, fast asleep.
But it wasn't just Tony. Everyone within a hundred-meter radius—the auctioneer, the staff, the security guards, the guests—all collapsed, snoring gently under the setting sun.
Selena's mouth fell open.
"What… was that?!"
Shawn shrugged. "Sleep spell."
"That was a sleep spell?! You put an entire block to sleep with a snap?!"
"Yes."
She slumped in her seat. "And I thought you meant armed robbery or something…"
"Please. I'm not a savage," Shawn replied. "Now go."
Selena glared. "You're really sending me out to do the dirty work?"
"You're the thief. Remember?"
She couldn't argue with that.
With an exaggerated sigh, Selena stepped out, hurried over to Tony's unconscious body, and gently pried the desk lamp from his arms.
It was heavier than it looked, ornate and glowing faintly under her touch. She brought it back and handed it over to Shawn.
He carefully examined the base, located the charm, and with a deft motion, removed the Rat Charm from the lamp.
As soon as it was in his hand, it shimmered slightly—acknowledging its new bearer.
Shawn nodded in satisfaction. Then he handed the desk lamp back to Selena.
"Put it back."
Selena blinked. "What?"
"Return it to him."
"Are you serious? You want me to sneak it back into his arms after stealing it?"
"I don't need the lamp. Just the charm."
Selena sighed like a soldier ordered back into battle. She returned the desk lamp to Tony's side, tucking it neatly next to him as if nothing had happened. Then she jogged back to the car, climbed in, and slammed the door shut.
"You know, most bosses don't send their assistants to rob billionaires," she grumbled.
Shawn smiled. "You're not most assistants."
With that, the car peeled away into the streets of Gotham, vanishing into the evening haze.
—
Several minutes later, Tony Stark slowly regained consciousness.
He blinked, sat up, and rubbed his forehead.
"What the hell just happened…?" he muttered.
His memories were fuzzy. One moment he'd been walking out of the auction, then… blackness.
"Did I get drugged?"
He sat upright and quickly checked himself. Wallet? Check. Watch? Check. Phone? Still in his pocket.
He looked down—and breathed a sigh of relief.
The desk lamp was still there, resting against the curb.
"Whew. At least I didn't drop the most expensive lamp in the world…"
But then his eyes narrowed.
Something felt… off.
He turned the lamp over and examined its base carefully.
"Wait a second…"
It was gone.
The Rat Charm was missing.
"NO!" Tony shouted, jumping to his feet. "Where the hell is my charm?!"
He spun in place, scanning the empty street, desperate for answers. But all he saw were unconscious strangers beginning to stir, confused and dazed like they'd all just woken from a shared dream.
Tony stared at the lamp, eyes wide.
"What the hell kind of magic heist was that…?"
For the first time in a long while, Tony Stark had no answer.
Just an empty lamp, a stolen spell, and a whole lot of questions.
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