A Rider Kick in Marvel Rewrite

Tony's hands moved with precision, sorting through scattered metal scraps and weapon components. The car battery connected to his chest felt like a ticking time bomb... a constant, menacing reminder of the shrapnel threatening his life.

Yinsen watched carefully, offering occasional guidance. His hands steady, he helped Tony sort through the materials. They worked in a rhythm—Tony cutting, welding, and assembling while Yinsen provided tools and support.

Hours passed. Sweat beaded on Tony's forehead as he manipulated delicate components. The makeshift workspace became a canvas of innovation, with metal pieces arranged like a complex puzzle.

Finally, a circular device took shape. It glowed with a soft blue light, pulsing with an almost living energy. Tony held it up, examining his creation.

"What is this?" Yinsen leaned closer, curiosity etched across his face.

Tony explained the device's function. "It's a miniaturized arc reactor. I got a large one back at home. Should be enough to keep the shrapnel from reaching my heart."

Yinsen nodded, clearly impressed by the ingenious solution.

"What should I call you?"

"My name is Yinsen."

"Nice meeting you, Yinsen."

Tony's hands paused in their meticulous work, fingers gripping a small metal component. He looked up at Yinsen, a sharp question cutting through the dim cave's silence.

"Who exactly are they?"

Yinsen's eyes, weary but focused, met Tony's. "They are your loyal customers, Stark. They call themselves the Ten Rings."

The irony wasn't lost on Tony. Weapons he had designed and manufactured, sold to military contractors and governments worldwide, had now found their way into the hands of terrorists. The very machines of destruction he had once celebrated were now the instruments of his own captivity.

Tony carefully arranged the papers across their makeshift workspace. Each sheet revealed intricate technical drawings - detailed schematics showing an armored suit with layers of mechanical complexity.

"What are these?" Yinsen asked, leaning closer to study the designs with keen interest.

"Our ticket out of here," Tony replied. His fingers traced along the armor's outline as he flattened the papers, revealing a comprehensive blueprint of what would become the Mark I armor.

The design was intimidating in its appearance. Heavy metal plating covered vital areas of the bulky, industrial-looking suit that emphasized protection over elegance. Various weapons systems were integrated throughout the frame - flamethrowers, missile launchers, and multiple gun ports positioned strategically across the armor.

The primitive nature of their workshop and limited resources meant the suit's systems would need to be operated manually. There was no room for automation in this design.

Yinsen's scientific mind analyzed every technical detail as he examined the drawings carefully. "Impressive design," he remarked thoughtfully.

The armor's appearance differed notably from Tony's usual Iron Man aesthetic. Tony had drawn inspiration from the Kamen Rider's distinctive look. The result was a fusion of styles - the suit featured large, expressive eyes and small, angular horns that paid homage to Kuuga's iconic design while maintaining its own identity.

Days passed and in the dimly lit cave, Tony Stark and Ho Yinsen worked meticulously on the armor, their hands moving with precision across scattered metal components. The sound of welding and mechanical adjustments filled the small space, punctuated by occasional conversations that broke the monotonous work.

During one of their breaks, they pulled out a worn chess set. Yinsen carefully moved a pawn, looking up at Tony with a curious expression. "Tell me about your hometown," he said, his accent soft but clear.

Tony leaned back, a wry smile crossing his face. "New York. But I'm guessing that's not what you mean."

Yinsen chuckled. "Where are you from originally? Before the big city?"

"Malibu, technically," Tony responded, moving a knight. "But I've never been much of a hometown kind of guy."

Their conversation drifted, and Tony found himself asking, "What about you? Where are you from?"

"A small town called Gulmira," Yinsen replied, his eyes momentarily distant. "I have a family there. My wife, my children. I will see them again after we leave here."

Tony's hand paused over the chessboard. Yinsen noticed the sudden silence and looked up. "And your family?" he asked.

Tony remained silent, his gaze fixed on the chess pieces.

Yinsen's voice was gentle but pointed. "So you're a man who has everything and nothing."

The workshop was tense with the sound of metal clanking and wires connecting when suddenly the heavy door burst open. The leader of the Ten Rings strode in, his eyes scanning the workspace with a predatory intensity.

"How is the missile progressing?" he demanded in a harsh tone.

Tony looked up, maintaining a calm facade. "We're working on it," he replied evenly.

The leader was not convinced. With a sharp gesture, he ordered his men to grab Yinsen. Two militants roughly seized the scientist, forcing him to his knees. One pulled out an anvil, positioning Yinsen's head near its hard surface.

The leader picked up a glowing hot stone, speaking rapidly in his native language. He pressed the stone close to Yinsen's face, asking pointed questions about their true progress.

Yinsen, despite the imminent threat, remained composed. "We are working diligently on the missile," he insisted.

The leader's hand moved closer, preparing to press the scalding rock against Yinsen's mouth. Just as the stone was about to make contact, Tony intervened.

"Wait!" Tony shouted. "I need him. He's my assistant. Without Yinsen, I can't complete the missile."

The leader paused, considering Tony's words. After a moment of tense silence, he dropped the hot rock. "You have until tomorrow," he growled. "Finish the missile, or both of you die."

After the Ten Rings militants left, Tony rushed to Yinsen's side, helping him up from the ground. The scientist winced slightly, but remained focused.

"We need to work faster," Tony said, his voice urgent. His eyes scanned the workshop, taking in the scattered tools and metal scraps surrounding them. "We have until tomorrow to complete the armor. If we don't, we're both dead."

Yinsen nodded, understanding the gravity of their situation.

Tony and Yinsen worked with desperate intensity, their movements synchronized and purposeful. Metal scraped against metal as they welded, cut, and assembled components with precision born of survival. The dim cave workshop became a crucible of innovation and desperation.

Sweat beaded on Tony's forehead as he manipulated intricate circuitry, his hands moving with a surgeon's delicacy despite the crude tools surrounding them. Yinsen worked equally hard, his scientific expertise complementing Tony's engineering brilliance. They knew the stakes were absolute: complete the armor, or face certain death.

Pieces of the suit slowly took shape - a chest plate here, a gauntlet there. Each component was carefully designed not just for protection, but for functionality. Their movements were economical, no motion wasted, no energy spared. The ticking clock of their deadline hung invisible but palpable in the air, driving them forward with relentless urgency.

***

Leave a comment and review of your thoughts

Give some power stones to support this novel.

Advance chapters are in my P@|r3on - Najicablitz