Wandering Tech-Priest in Multiverse
Chapter 93 – iron Man

A yellow halogen bulb buzzed softly overhead, casting an uneven, sickly light across the command tent. The illumination pooled on the scarred map table, revealing cracked radios, ammo crates, and grease-stained documents. The rest of the tent was shrouded in shadow.

A handful of militants moved under cover, cover, dragging away the bodies of their former comrades and clearing the wreckage left from the skirmish. Overhead, the lone servo-skull drifted slowly, its red optic glowing as it recorded every motion.

Luthar stood at the center of it all, across from the camp's leader, one hand resting calmly on the table. 

The leader sat rigidly, jaw clenched, eyes flicking between Luthar and the floating skull. He looked like a man who had seen enough to fear more.

"What country is this?" Luthar asked, his tone devoid of emotion.

The leader hesitated. "Afghanistan."

"Date? Year?"

"Two thousand and eight."

"What powers govern this region? Who holds dominance over this world?"

The man blinked. "The U.S. Mostly. NATO. Some of us fight against them."

"Technological capacity?"

"What?"

Luthar's mechanical eye whirred softly.

"Do you have satellites? Supercomputers? Spaceship?, superpowers?"

The leader frowned. "Us  have satellite lots of them, we have some computers and superpowers they are just some stories nothing else.."

Luthar said nothing for a moment, then turned to Liliruca.

"Catalog everything: communications equipment, encrypted drives, satellite links, external batteries. Even outdated terminals."

She nodded and started recording everything in her terminal. 

The leader swallowed. "What are you planning to do?"

"Study your world," Luthar said simply. "To determine its level."

After making sure there was no danger they decided to stay here for a night while giving some others to the leader to collect the stuff around the camp and bring it to them. 

At the night Luthar's was looking at, a dozen devices were arranged laptops, radios, scavenged circuit boards, even a solar charger repurposed to power a wideband signal sniffer.

Luthar stood still for long minutes, his neural port interfacing with the jury-rigged systems. Data flickered across his lens. Crude, but usable.

Primitive file systems. Jumbled, unsecured logs. Maps. Old satellite images. Radio frequencies. Some encrypted, some broken. Mentions of CIA drops, regional air traffic, and a recently intercepted transmission warning all groups to avoid the southern canyons due to "foreign object contamination."

He paused as he took all the information he was sure this wasn't some anime world and definitely not his original one.

Far from the command tent, deep in the caves, another protagonist was preparing to start his journey.

Yinsen grunted as he pulled a steel plate into position. Tony Stark, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, adjusted the alignment of a primitive hydraulic brace.

"Hold it there," Tony said. "Just a second longer..."

A rivet popped into place. The hiss of welding filled the chamber. Sparks danced.

Yinsen looked toward the entrance—a rusted steel door, chained from the outside. "You heard that earlier? The gun fire?"

Tony didn't look up. "Yeah, almost thought the army had finally come to rescue me."

"from the looks of it definitely not the US army, from my experience if it was definitely not the US army as they always like bombing instead of ground fighting"

"So either there was another group of terrorists or maybe a civil conflict."

Yinsen nodded grimly. Then added, " at least this have given us some chance, we just need to make sure we are ready by morning, because I think tomorrow they might try to move us to some other location."

"we need the last coupling finished. No point running in half a suit." Tony replied while completely focusing on his work for him it doesn't matter what happened outside even if somebody Bomb the entire place he would complete the armour and nobody could stop him.

As dawn broke beyond the hills, its warmth never reached the depths of the cave. Within, only the glow of dying batteries and the old clock marked the passage of time.

Yinsen tightened the last coupling, nodding with finality. "That's it. Everything's connected."

Tony stepped toward the suit. It loomed in the center of the chamber—metallic, crude, and brutal. Weld lines marked its seams, and mismatched components hummed with uncertain energy. Yet for all its imperfections, it stood like a defiant challenge against death.

Yinsen moved quickly and adjusted the armour.

"Yinsen go to the computer and check for the power" Tony said while thinking it's strange nobody has come up till now.

"You have power for 50 minutes—if the readings are right," he said.

Tony grunted, "I only need ten."

He took a breath, letting it settle. The pressure of the suit was oppressive, like wearing a furnace—but this was the only chance he had.

Yinsen tried to joke, voice tight. "Just don't go thinking you're invincible. This isn't a video game. Don't try blocking a rocket with your chest."

"No promises," Tony muttered, then stepped forward.

The cave trembled slightly with the weight of the armor.

"You're good to go," Yinsen said, stepping back. "Doors still lock from outside, but I weakened the hinges last night. Just a little bit of strength as we don't want the cave collapsing."

Before Yinsen could continue how to open the door Tony turned toward the entrance—He leaned forward, placed both hands against the frame, and pushed.

The armor's joints whined under strain. The steel buckled slowly—then snapped free with a loud groan. Dust spilled inward as sunlight poured through the now-open cave mouth.

CLANK—THUD—

Then the door snapped, the hinges twisted. The door fell forward with a metallic groan, slamming into the ground outside.

Dust rolled in as sunlight hit the armor.

Tony stepped out—one heavy footfall after another. No resistance. No shouting

After not finding anyone he notified Yinsen in the cave while he goes outside and checks the situation.

The world beyond the cave was quiet many things were already moved out but there were still some weapons.

He raised one arm, targeting the nearest fuel cache.

FWOOSH!

The explosion rocked the canyon, igniting a stack of crates. He turned, ready for retaliation.

But nothing came.

No bullets. No shouting.

Just silence.

There were few militants at some distance but soon as they heard the explosion they started scrambling for cover instead of shooting at him.

Confused but still alert, Tony continued forward, clearing the field one step at a time.

Then he saw it—a large command tent near the edge of the ridge, still intact, its canvas flapping in the wind.

Looking at the tent he remember all the shame and The torture done by the terrorist leader He angled toward it, flame unit primed.

"It's time to take back the interest."