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Chapter 223: Ancient One's Mind Magic
A month had passed, and in the eyes of many, Tony had vanished without a trace.
After the battle, many people entered the battlefield under various pretexts, trying to find a drop of the Hulk's blood, hoping to get their hands on his genes for research.
But Tony had long been on guard. At the time, even though he was so severely injured that he could pass out at any moment, he commanded the Transformers to scour the area, ensuring not a single trace of the Hulk's genes was left for those with ulterior motives.
As a result, the Military came under immense pressure.
It was common knowledge that, aside from Tony, only the Military possessed the Hulk's blood. They even had a semi-finished version of the Hulk Serum and related data.
Assassinations, threats, and exchanges of interests were constant, and some managed to obtain the Hulk's blood for research.
But regardless, the Hulk himself had been publicly killed by Tony. Although the Hulk was powerful, in the eyes of some, his strength was limited. Moreover, his intelligence was low; he could only destroy under the control of his instincts.
Many were unaware of the Hulk's true potential, thinking he was just that—strong, but useless against a Level Four Mutant like Tony.
The battlefield was sealed off by a joint effort of numerous Official Agencies, and the media was issued a stern warning. Although many civilians on the Indian Subcontinent had lost their vehicles, watching helplessly as they turned into robots and sped north, they stopped publicizing it loudly under threats from the authorities.
The news of Tony commanding an army of a million circulated quietly and on a small scale among the common people, discussed only among acquaintances. Whether others believed it, or how much they believed, was irrelevant.
The higher-ups had a massive headache. The rebuilding of S.H.I.E.L.D. had become extremely urgent.
The catastrophic events of that battle had exposed many interesting things.
A large amount of funding and resources were poured into reorganizing S.H.I.E.L.D., with a particular focus on a thorough investigation into that damn nuclear bomb!
Who on earth had the authority to launch a nuclear bomb on short notice, sending it halfway across the globe to bomb Tony?!
Ultimately, the investigation led to the former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Alexander Pierce.
"Mr. Pierce, why did you deploy a nuclear bomb without the authorization of the World Security Council? You must take full responsibility for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s devastating losses! You must be held accountable for the countless lives lost!"
Faced with the interrogation, the shrewd Pierce gave a contemptuous smile.
"Why? Does one need a reason to kill Tony? His actions have already destroyed the balance. Does any attempt to kill him still require a reason?"
The interrogator was left speechless.
The turbulent undercurrents behind the scenes were now impossible to untangle.
A storm was quietly brewing.
Tony's brazen act of teleporting a nuclear bomb to destroy the Helicarrier over the Atlantic Ocean had shattered the delicate balance on Earth.
A single Tony was enough to confront, or even crush, a Superpower. A new era seemed to have dawned, yet many remained blissfully unaware, completely lacking any concept of it.
Not only was the Mortal Realm in turmoil, but some in the Supernatural World also grew restless and began to stir.
The power of Metahumans, recklessly displayed by Tony, was now laid bare for many to see. A Mutant who couldn't be killed by a nuclear bomb, and could even turn it back on his enemies?
It was terrifying—so terrifying that many who considered themselves high and mighty could no longer sleep soundly, their minds plagued with worry.
But Tony's actions had, conversely, greatly spurred the growth of A.R.G.U.S. Especially in the hearts of the long-oppressed Mutants, Tony's status was elevated to an unprecedented degree. A ruthless character who would openly defy The Authorities without hesitation and damn the consequences—he was the very person they admired most and longed to become.
A.R.G.U.S. was able to recruit a large number of people with special abilities.
"Still no news of Tony?" Crane asked with a frown.
"None. We've deployed the full strength of A.R.G.U.S., even violating the highest order Mr. Tony gave us—to deploy at least fifty percent of A.R.G.U.S. forces at all times to hunt the Vampire Faction. But we haven't found the slightest trace of him."
Crane frowned, gazing at the sky outside.
*I just hope you're safe...*
...
Kamar-Taj.
For now, this was the safest place. Tony was hiding here, recuperating from his injuries. It had taken a full month of recovery before he was back on his feet.
The Temporal Backlash had inflicted severe trauma on both his body and Soul. Fortunately, the Ancient One had personally intervened, helping to stabilize his wounds and using Magic to restore him bit by bit.
Over this past month, Tony constantly felt an emptiness in his heart.
Abomination, Ross, Hulk—they had all died by his hand.
The retribution he had desperately sought once plunged him into countless nightmares, his days and nights consumed with plotting how to kill his enemies. His mind was so full of vengeful thoughts that there wasn't the slightest room for anything else.
He had thought the process would be a long one, requiring several years, perhaps even more than a decade. But when he suddenly realized he had grown to such a level and had killed the most fearsome Hulk, he began to feel a sense of bewilderment.
Was it a great achievement? It was. He had accomplished something incredible, willing to pay any price for it.
He had even retaliated by flinging a nuclear bomb at S.H.I.E.L.D., dealing them an unbearable blow.
But upon accomplishing all this, he suddenly felt lost. The stark contrast of achieving a lifelong pursuit caused a subtle shift in Tony's state of mind.
Tears would fall without him realizing. During his month in Kamar-Taj, this often happened. When he was alone, tears would stream down his face—salty, and sometimes tinged with bitterness.
It was strange. There was none of the ecstasy he had imagined.
Perhaps he had already passed the stage where he needed an emotion like "ecstasy" to express the feeling of achieving a goal.
This was, perhaps, another kind of maturity. Or maybe... it was exhaustion.
The price of growth is cruel and merciless.
With a creak, he pushed open the door and walked out. He watched as groups of rookie mages practiced their spells, beads of sweat on their foreheads. He said nothing, just observed.
"Roar!"
"Roar, roar, roar!"
After being repaired by Tony, Grimlock and Predaking would constantly fight each other whenever they had nothing better to do. The two simple-minded, low-intelligence, beast-form Transformers liked to communicate with their fists. Grimlock was always the one getting beaten, but with an indomitable spirit, he would get up again and again to brawl with Predaking.
Sometimes they would wreak havoc in Kamar-Taj, and a group of conservative old Sorcerers had wanted to come and have it out with Tony on more than one occasion.
Tony watched for a while, gave a polite nod to some of the rookie mages, then turned to find the Ancient One.
Pushing the door open, he saw the Ancient One standing as still as a pine tree, as if observing something.
Tony looked at her back and fell silent. He respected the Sorcerer Supreme, but some things had to be made clear.
"Ancient One," Tony said, his voice now somewhat hoarse, "I've thought about a lot of things these past few days, and I've noticed some things that don't add up."
"My thoughts have undergone some changes, different from my past self. I think you've been influencing me with Mind Magic, secretly brainwashing me..."
"The ideals you're quietly instilling in me are imperceptible. I also suspect you began influencing my thoughts from the very first moment we met."
Tony said in a low voice, "You... you want me to stay on Earth forever, to become the next Sorcerer Supreme after you die..."
(end of chapter)
A month had passed, and in the eyes of many, Tony had vanished without a trace.
After the battle, many people entered the battlefield under various pretexts, trying to find a drop of the Hulk's blood, hoping to get their hands on his genes for research.
But Tony had long been on guard. At the time, even though he was so severely injured that he could pass out at any moment, he commanded the Transformers to scour the area, ensuring not a single trace of the Hulk's genes was left for those with ulterior motives.
As a result, the Military came under immense pressure.
It was common knowledge that, aside from Tony, only the Military possessed the Hulk's blood. They even had a semi-finished version of the Hulk Serum and related data.
Assassinations, threats, and exchanges of interests were constant, and some managed to obtain the Hulk's blood for research.
But regardless, the Hulk himself had been publicly killed by Tony. Although the Hulk was powerful, in the eyes of some, his strength was limited. Moreover, his intelligence was low; he could only destroy under the control of his instincts.
Many were unaware of the Hulk's true potential, thinking he was just that—strong, but useless against a Level Four Mutant like Tony.
The battlefield was sealed off by a joint effort of numerous Official Agencies, and the media was issued a stern warning. Although many civilians on the Indian Subcontinent had lost their vehicles, watching helplessly as they turned into robots and sped north, they stopped publicizing it loudly under threats from the authorities.
The news of Tony commanding an army of a million circulated quietly and on a small scale among the common people, discussed only among acquaintances. Whether others believed it, or how much they believed, was irrelevant.
The higher-ups had a massive headache. The rebuilding of S.H.I.E.L.D. had become extremely urgent.
The catastrophic events of that battle had exposed many interesting things.
A large amount of funding and resources were poured into reorganizing S.H.I.E.L.D., with a particular focus on a thorough investigation into that damn nuclear bomb!
Who on earth had the authority to launch a nuclear bomb on short notice, sending it halfway across the globe to bomb Tony?!
Ultimately, the investigation led to the former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Alexander Pierce.
"Mr. Pierce, why did you deploy a nuclear bomb without the authorization of the World Security Council? You must take full responsibility for S.H.I.E.L.D.'s devastating losses! You must be held accountable for the countless lives lost!"
Faced with the interrogation, the shrewd Pierce gave a contemptuous smile.
"Why? Does one need a reason to kill Tony? His actions have already destroyed the balance. Does any attempt to kill him still require a reason?"
The interrogator was left speechless.
The turbulent undercurrents behind the scenes were now impossible to untangle.
A storm was quietly brewing.
Tony's brazen act of teleporting a nuclear bomb to destroy the Helicarrier over the Atlantic Ocean had shattered the delicate balance on Earth.
A single Tony was enough to confront, or even crush, a Superpower. A new era seemed to have dawned, yet many remained blissfully unaware, completely lacking any concept of it.
Not only was the Mortal Realm in turmoil, but some in the Supernatural World also grew restless and began to stir.
The power of Metahumans, recklessly displayed by Tony, was now laid bare for many to see. A Mutant who couldn't be killed by a nuclear bomb, and could even turn it back on his enemies?
It was terrifying—so terrifying that many who considered themselves high and mighty could no longer sleep soundly, their minds plagued with worry.
But Tony's actions had, conversely, greatly spurred the growth of A.R.G.U.S. Especially in the hearts of the long-oppressed Mutants, Tony's status was elevated to an unprecedented degree. A ruthless character who would openly defy The Authorities without hesitation and damn the consequences—he was the very person they admired most and longed to become.
A.R.G.U.S. was able to recruit a large number of people with special abilities.
"Still no news of Tony?" Crane asked with a frown.
"None. We've deployed the full strength of A.R.G.U.S., even violating the highest order Mr. Tony gave us—to deploy at least fifty percent of A.R.G.U.S. forces at all times to hunt the Vampire Faction. But we haven't found the slightest trace of him."
Crane frowned, gazing at the sky outside.
*I just hope you're safe...*
...
Kamar-Taj.
For now, this was the safest place. Tony was hiding here, recuperating from his injuries. It had taken a full month of recovery before he was back on his feet.
The Temporal Backlash had inflicted severe trauma on both his body and Soul. Fortunately, the Ancient One had personally intervened, helping to stabilize his wounds and using Magic to restore him bit by bit.
Over this past month, Tony constantly felt an emptiness in his heart.
Abomination, Ross, Hulk—they had all died by his hand.
The retribution he had desperately sought once plunged him into countless nightmares, his days and nights consumed with plotting how to kill his enemies. His mind was so full of vengeful thoughts that there wasn't the slightest room for anything else.
He had thought the process would be a long one, requiring several years, perhaps even more than a decade. But when he suddenly realized he had grown to such a level and had killed the most fearsome Hulk, he began to feel a sense of bewilderment.
Was it a great achievement? It was. He had accomplished something incredible, willing to pay any price for it.
He had even retaliated by flinging a nuclear bomb at S.H.I.E.L.D., dealing them an unbearable blow.
But upon accomplishing all this, he suddenly felt lost. The stark contrast of achieving a lifelong pursuit caused a subtle shift in Tony's state of mind.
Tears would fall without him realizing. During his month in Kamar-Taj, this often happened. When he was alone, tears would stream down his face—salty, and sometimes tinged with bitterness.
It was strange. There was none of the ecstasy he had imagined.
Perhaps he had already passed the stage where he needed an emotion like "ecstasy" to express the feeling of achieving a goal.
This was, perhaps, another kind of maturity. Or maybe... it was exhaustion.
The price of growth is cruel and merciless.
With a creak, he pushed open the door and walked out. He watched as groups of rookie mages practiced their spells, beads of sweat on their foreheads. He said nothing, just observed.
"Roar!"
"Roar, roar, roar!"
After being repaired by Tony, Grimlock and Predaking would constantly fight each other whenever they had nothing better to do. The two simple-minded, low-intelligence, beast-form Transformers liked to communicate with their fists. Grimlock was always the one getting beaten, but with an indomitable spirit, he would get up again and again to brawl with Predaking.
Sometimes they would wreak havoc in Kamar-Taj, and a group of conservative old Sorcerers had wanted to come and have it out with Tony on more than one occasion.
Tony watched for a while, gave a polite nod to some of the rookie mages, then turned to find the Ancient One.
Pushing the door open, he saw the Ancient One standing as still as a pine tree, as if observing something.
Tony looked at her back and fell silent. He respected the Sorcerer Supreme, but some things had to be made clear.
"Ancient One," Tony said, his voice now somewhat hoarse, "I've thought about a lot of things these past few days, and I've noticed some things that don't add up."
"My thoughts have undergone some changes, different from my past self. I think you've been influencing me with Mind Magic, secretly brainwashing me..."
"The ideals you're quietly instilling in me are imperceptible. I also suspect you began influencing my thoughts from the very first moment we met."
Tony said in a low voice, "You... you want me to stay on Earth forever, to become the next Sorcerer Supreme after you die..."
(end of chapter)
