The sky was overcast, thick with rolling clouds.
Boom!
As soon as he pierced the atmosphere, a thunderous sonic boom exploded around Malrick.
His velocity exceeded the second cosmic speed, and as he descended, his figure cleaved the sky like a blade.
The air pressure generated by his tremendous speed split the sea of clouds. Invisible shockwaves tore through them, forming a visible air veil that surrounded Malrick, trailing behind him like the tail of a comet.
To anyone watching, it was as if a celestial serpent was crashing to Earth—unstoppable, unrelenting, and ready to consume all in its path.
As the ground neared, Malrick decelerated sharply—more than 5,000 meters per second. He had no choice. If he landed at full speed, even with his bio-force field, the impact would devastate everything around him.
From the upper edge of the atmosphere, 300 kilometers up, he had flown from North America to Afghanistan—a journey of thousands of kilometers—in under 20 minutes.
Now, Malrick hovered silently over Afghanistan. The clouds had been blown away by his entry, leaving a clear, moonlit sky. It was just after 10 p.m.
Without pause, he twisted mid-air and drifted eastward—slowly this time, barely reaching 200 meters per second. Not even the speed of sound. He floated above the mountain cave like a silent phantom, unnoticed by those below.
Inside the cave, Tony Stark lay asleep, frowning in his dreams.
"Tony, time to wake up." Malrick's voice was barely a whisper.
Then he dropped like a meteor.
Boom!
The rock-covered mountain crumbled like brittle paper beneath him. Malrick tore through over ten meters of solid stone and dropped into the cave.
He landed in a crouch at the foot of Tony's bed—just like in the movie when Iron Man first arrived in his armor.
Rubble fell through the hole above, clattering in all sizes against the cave floor.
Boom! Bang, bang, bang!
The cave shook with violent tremors. The noise was deafening, continuous.
Anyone waking up to that would think the world was ending.
"Ahhh!" Tony screamed, jolted awake.
He was a light sleeper—startled instantly by the blast, then overwhelmed by the pounding crashes. He panicked.
"They're coming!?" he gasped, scrambling for clarity. In his daze, he assumed the terrorists were storming in.
The group that had kidnapped him had demanded a batch of Jericho missiles. Tomorrow was the agreed deadline. He'd planned to don the Mark I suit and escape with Yinsen.
He had just finished praying—hoping the plan would succeed. If not, he had resigned himself to fate, hoping Pepper and Malrick would carry on without him.
And now? Minutes after falling asleep, an explosion?
"Damn it! Even Malrick didn't wet himself this fast!"
Tony cursed instinctively, glancing around in panic. "Yinsen! Are you okay? Are they— Wait, what the hell happened to the cave? Malrick, go check on—wait. Malrick?"
He froze, staring at the young man crouched by his bed.
Bare-chested, gravel tumbling off his head—yet not a speck of dust stuck to him.
"Malrick, you?! Why are you here?!"
Tony blinked hard, unsure if this was a hallucination brought on by stress and sleep deprivation.
His heart pounded. His hands trembled.
Malrick wasn't supposed to return to Earth for another two years.
So how could he possibly be here?
Still… even as a hallucination, the kid looked incredible. That stance, that presence—it was exactly what Tony would imagine.
But then, the "hallucination" stood and smirked.
"I heard someone whispering my name all night, saying he couldn't sleep without me. So, I came," Malrick teased.
"To be honest, I'm surprised my 39-year-old brother still needs help falling asleep."
He added, "I can sing lullabies. Even country ballads. Tony, which do you prefer? But just to be clear, I don't do cradle-rocking—that's Pepper's department."
Tony blinked, then shot back reflexively.
"Hey, kid, I'm the one who rocked you to sleep, not Pepper. She doesn't have nearly as many bedtime stories under her belt as I do."
It was classic Tony—quick with the banter, prideful to the bone.
And Malrick loved teasing that pride.
This was the same guy who "reluctantly accepted" a holiday gift, only to later display it in his private collection like a priceless artifact.
He was, frankly, adorable.
Tony's eyes suddenly widened again as reality caught up with him.
"You! You're really here?! How? I mean—you should be in space—300 kilometers up—how—"
He reached out, grabbed Malrick's arm.
Solid muscle, like carved marble.
This wasn't a dream. Malrick was really here.
He'd come to save him.
Tony's tension dissolved in an instant. Months of stress melted away. A deep, overwhelming sense of security took its place.
He smiled, collapsed onto the bed, and let out a long, relieved breath.
No one understood Malrick's power better than Tony.
Six months ago, his strength already measured at 500 tons. He was nearly impervious to sniper fire. Now, with him here, those terrorists were done.
Malrick raised an eyebrow. "To be exact, I was over 10,000 kilometers away in orbit."
"I was napping when I heard someone whining about how unfair life was, so I flew straight here."
He blinked. "There's only one person in the world who can make me travel halfway across the globe in pajamas—and that's you. Well, you and Pepper."
Tony groaned. "First of all, I wasn't whining. Second, not even Pepper can make me feel wronged. No one can."
"Oh, so you're telling me you've been living your best life in this cave?" Malrick gave him a long look. "Let me guess—you came out here for a business retreat? Maybe to test some new minimalist lifestyle where you dine with terrorists and sleep on rocks?"
Tony didn't respond.
His bright eyes were still sharp, but they couldn't hide the exhaustion etched deep in them.
---