![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
tekia.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Room for Improvement
Fandom: Exalted/Avengers
Prompt: kiln
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: After falling into a trap, the first order of business it to find out where you are. But, if where you are makes no sense, then what are you supposed to do? Traveling to the future is easy, just fall asleep, right? Waking up to a whole different world is harder. Luckily, Tony Stark can adapt to any environment.
The room had changed once again, Tony noted when he stepped through the doors. Stone’s Throw was knelt before the glass coffin, now propped up against the wall not unlike the way the other’s had been in the future. Stone’s Throw was murmuring a fervent prayer under his breath. Tony watched him a moment before turning his eyes to Wisp.
Iron Dust had bullied him into the room, his mark of exaltation nearly blazing, the mark of his Maiden bold on his brow. Tony’s lips tilted up as he recognized the symbol of Mercury. Wisp hissed something at Iron Dust, and Iron Dust merely shook his head in response. That only angered Wisp more, and he surged to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over Iron Dust. Tony took a step forward, but he needn’t have worried.
There was a white line of something on the floor making a circle in which Wisp couldn’t seem to pass. He stood with the toes of his boots just avoiding the line.
Tony wondered if the old adage about salt and the dead was true.
Iron Dust tilted his head back to keep eye contact and arched a pale brow. “Try me, Death Knight,” he said in a slow drawl. “I’ll show you why I’ve allowed White Song to be the mediator between us.”
Wisp visibly had to gather his composure, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists at his side before he took a step back and slouched against the wall. “You send him back, we will lose this war. When we are defeated, it will be on your hands, silver tongue. It is your soul that will carry the guilt.”
Iron Dust nodded. “This, I know.” His voice was low and full of pain. Tony bit his lips and looked away. The guilt that Wisp said rested on Iron Dust’s soul, settled nicely next to the guilt of Tony’s past in his soul. He swallowed hard and blinked away the sting in his eyes. He didn’t think he was going to be able to look at a machine ever again without seeing these people in his mind’s eye.
The Guardian touched his elbow and pointed toward the raise dais that the coffin had been removed from. Tony started in that direction but paused and looked at Yinsen. “In the future,” he started.
Yinsen shook his head. “Tell me no more. The future will be what it will be.”
“No, wait.” He glanced out the open doors and wished to see White Song again. At least once more. “When I was here first, there were six coffins.”
Yinsen tilted his head to one side, eyes distant, but clearly listening intently. “What of it?”
“There’s only one now.”
Yinsen’s dark yellow eyes turned toward Tony’s past body. When recognition filled those eyes, Tony’s jaw dropped. “You, you were in my dream.”
Yinsen’s eyes flicked back to Tony. “Dream? You have dreams of a previous age? Your past life?”
Tony nodded. “Just the once. I don’t recognize you from them, but you recognize me.”
“Yes, from my own past life. I have many memoires from then. I shall see about the arrangements for the other coffins.” He turned away, but Tony caught his arm.
“The people in them,” he whispered, harshly.
There was a smile on Yinsen’s face that Tony had never seen before, and it left him feeling that he hadn’t known Yinsen at all. How much of what Yinsen told him in the cave had been a lie? Yinsen’s eyes were on Iron Dust as he directed the other men to arrange themselves around the room. “I know what bodies you saw, Lost Path.” Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Yinsen shook his head. “They’ve been attached to you for a long time. I can see the threads that tie you six together.”
He reached out and touched a finger to Tony’s smallest finger. “Threads that tie you to the ones that have a place in your life. Be they lovers, family, or strangers. The threads that connect you to these two are particularly strong.” He dropped his hand and threw his opposite arm wide. “Stars of Sorrow, you can’t mean that spell to work with that little trick!” He stalked over to Iron Dust, and the two bent over a length of runes. Tony stepped forward to better read the ancient words.
Stone’s Throw turned away from the body finally and narrowed his eyes at Tony, screwed up his face, and then seemed to come to a decision. He approached Tony and folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t see him in you.”
“Knew him?”
“My father’s father’s father’s grandfather.”
Tony smiled. “I can’t see him in you either.”
A flash of rage crossed Stone’s Throw’s features before he could hide it behind a mask of cool indifference. Then he forced a smile. “I look like my mother’s people,” he admitted. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the distant ceiling. “I was raised on stories of the Gifted One. He built not only this manse, but the very structure of my family’s traditions and beliefs. He stood with the Green Tiger in times long ago. He was the greatest hero of our lands.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“When I exalted, I had hoped that I could be half the hero he was. I had hoped that his Shard had come to me.” He shook his head. “And yet, here you are.” He looked at Wisp, prowling like a wild cat around a barrier that Iron Dust had set up on the ground. “And they all want you.”
“They want me to go against my morals and fight a war not my own.”
“You are Exalt. This is your war.”
Tony grasped him by his shoulder and forced him to look at him. “I have my own battles back home to fight. This isn’t my war. Even Luna has made it clear that I am not needed here.”
At Luna’s name, Stone’s Throw’s eyes went wide. “She came to you?”
Tony shook his head. “To him.” Together, they watched the two men that claimed to hold fate in their hands. “She came to him and ordered him to fetch me and see me home. If Luna commands me gone, who am I to object?”
Stone’s Throw snorted. “Convenient reasoning. Still, I have no doubt that regrets will keep you up at night for years to come, once you go home.”
Tony stared at the back of Iron Dust’s head. The silver of his hair was brighter than it had any right to be. The jade and marble of the manse was pristine and nearly shimmered in the low lighting. The colors of this world seemed so much brighter, so much fuller. As if there were another, secret dimension that had been lost to the people that relied so heavily upon technology in the future.
“Of that, I have no doubt. I will miss this world, and I will regret that I’m not meant to be here.” He shook his head. “But I will not regret going home. I will not change this past, for my own selfish reasons, and I cannot afford to allow anybody to change what I know has happened.”
Stone’s Throw gave him an odd look, and Tony belatedly realized that he thought Tony came from a different world, not from the future. Tony wrinkled his nose. “I have to go home. There is no way about it.”
“You’re taking with you the shard of Essence that could be a warrior that could help up in our war,” he started, voice and eyes thoughtful as he gazed steadily at Tony. “If not me, then someone else, far more likely to help us in ways you refuse.”
“Be still,” Yinsen said as he rejoined them. “From my understanding, Luna tried to stop you from Exalting. She knew you to be a warrior of your own world, but we didn’t bank on you being so much of a scholar. That was our mistake.”
“And all of Creation will pay for that mistake,” Stone’s Throw snapped.
Yinsen tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Be that as it is, Stars of Sorrow has also informed me of what waits for you on your world, Lost Path. Once more is Creation threatened by those that serve the demons.” He pulled a rolled piece of paper from out of his cloak. “This, you will take with you.” Tony accepted the bit of paper and fingered the tiny ribbon holding it together.
“What is it?”
“It is a spell. Use it wisely, for it can only be used once. Be careful, because if you misuse it, not only will your Infernal fall into Chaos, but so will you.” He turned to direct Stone’s Throw to a spot in the room far opposite Wisp of Shadow.
“Chaos?” Tony questioned. “What do you mean?”
“He means,” Iron Dust said before Yinsen could respond. “That that spell will rip apart the tapestry of Creation. Once it does, you must throw the Infernal into the rip.”
Tony clenched his fist around the scroll. “Easy as pie.”
Iron Dust smiled. “Yes. You’re clever and quick, I have faith that you can do this.”
“And it will close?”
“You only have moments from when it opens to when the spiders will weave the threads back together. You will only have that once chance.”
“You could give me more scrolls.”
“Do you think it will fall for the same trick twice?”
Tony made a face. “Right, so, how about me getting home?”
Iron Dust held his hands out before him and smiled. “We shall begin. I’ve changed the spell a bit to allow me to substitute the fifth caste. You, stand here, on the dais.” He pointed to Wisp. “South.” He pointed to Stone’s Throw. “East.” He pointed toward the empty door. “North.” He placed his hand on his chest as he took place between the door and Stone’s Throw, facing Tony. “West.” He stared at Tony, face blank. “Read the spell, Lost Path, find your way home.”
Tony stared right back at him, trying to commit his features to memory. From the moment he met Iron Dust, he had known that they would soon part. This was the moment he had been hoping for for so long. This was where he wanted to be, but he was going to miss this world far more than he had ever thought he would.
He still hadn’t seen White Song, and in his mind’s eye, he saw her and Iron Dust as he had first seen them together. White Song leaning heavily on Iron Dust’s shoulder as they both stared at him, listening to his story. He was going to miss them.
He licked his lips and turned his eyes to the runes that had been carved into the stone, and the new runes that had been added by Iron Dust and Yinsen. With only a small bit of Essence, they morphed into sounds he could read, if not words he could understand. As he began to recite the spell, the sounds took on meaning in his head, and the words were like heavy weights on his tongue, falling from his lips to pour into the room like dust from broken rocks.
The earth didn’t shake, and the manse didn’t react, but the stone he had nearly forgotten in his hand began to thrum with the rhythm of his words. And then he realized there was a musical quality to what he was saying and he allowed his Essence to seep into the heavy words, imbue them with even more power.
The stone, his stone, began to crumble in his hand like sandstone, turning to dust as the air around him filled with red and gold Essence. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the last of the stone disappear, and closed his eyes.
A sudden gush of wind stole his breath and he choked on the last words. Coughing, he grasped at his throat, but the armor was in the way. He heaved and bent over, trying his damnedest to get a breath into his lungs despite the dust’s and his own Essence’s attempts to the otherwise.
Then there was lightning arching through the Essence and it shocked him to the core. He stumbled and crashed off the dais and into something hard. His faceplate had slammed down over his eyes at some point. “JARVIS,” he croaked, water streaming from the corners of his eyes. The faceplate opened again and finally there was fresh air.
“Iron Man!”
Startled, he whipped his head to the side fast enough to give him whiplash, to see Hawkeye kneeling on the ground with Black Widow’s still body resting in his arms. There was blood matted in her hair, and her fine brows were curved down in a painful grimace. Hawkeye sat there gaping at him while he stood gaping at Hawkeye.
~*~*~
Before Tony could react to Hawkeye’s gaping face, there was a crash from behind him and Thor screamed in rage as his hammer slammed against Kazuya’s damaged armor. Tony ducked under the debris that flew in the wake of Thor’s lightning, and JARVIS helpfully brought up the display that showed Kazuya’s Essence flow.
It was very different from what Tony had grown used to seeing. The bright white and vibrant flow of life was absent from the Essence that flowed like syrup through Kazuya’s body. Even his body seemed to move slower and sluggishly.
Tony had a brief moment of memory of thinking that these zombies had been graceful and swift. Oh, how little he had known, back then.
He wet his lips and crouched down beside Hawkeye and the Black Widow. “How is she?”
Hawkeye adjusted his grip on her, cradling her head carefully. “She needs help. We can’t get across the room with her while they’re fighting, and even if we did, The Hour at Hand is outside, waiting for us.”
Tony glared out the door, the shadows beyond the frame dark and the air pouring in cool. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, keep her safe, and let’s end this game.” He stood and faced Iron Dust’s coffin. His arms were crossed over his chest, a staff clutched in one hand. The fingers on that hand twitched with awareness, with the influx of Essence. JARVIS’ display showed only hints of yellow Essence, for he hadn’t seen much of a display from him, and Tony firmly believed that Sidereals had a different way of using Essence than the rest of them.
He rested his bare hand on the glass. “Let’s get this over with quickly. I don’t think I could kill you myself if I gave myself time to think about it.”
He grabbed the coffin’s lid and pulled it free. There was a gush of pressurized air and Hawkeye snapped, “Iron Man, what the hell are you doing? We can barely hold our own against three, why are you waking another one?” He looked Tony up and down. “What happened to your armor.”
“No time to explain.” Tony stepped back as Iron Dust’s body slumped forward, his hair slowly pouring over one shoulder as his hands dropped to his side.
From behind, he heard the telltale sound of Cap’s shield speeding through the air toward them. Tony cursed and turned on his heel to spot the disc flying at him. He called his armor to cover his hands and reached out to catch the shield, noting Wisp of Shadow turning to follow the shield with his narrowed eyes. When they landed upon Tony, he turned his body to follow.
His dark Essence was just as sluggish and heavy as Kazuya’s, and Tony finally admitted that their Essence was dead. They were dead and the only think keeping them moving was the remains of their Essence. Their souls had moved on and only the mortal bodies remained. He didn’t want to turn back to Iron Dust and see him as dead as the others.
He caught the shield and spun with the force of the blow, turning on his heel and returning the shield to Cap. The Captain plucked the shield out of the air and brought it down in time to block a blow from Stone’s Throw. Stone’s Throw’s axe slid harmlessly off the shield, and he stepped closer to Cap, brought his opposite hand up and caught the edge of the shield. Cap shook him off and ducked away.
Wisp was approaching fast, and Tony had the feeling that, even dead, really dead this time, the Death Knight was still going to be too much for him. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t won a fight on his own the whole time he had been in the past. Licking his lips, he assumed his fighting stance, and prepared himself, his Essence flowing as light as a feather, as heady as champagne. He stood on the balls of his feet, ready.
Wisp unstrapped his sword, and he unsheathed it with a moan of the blade. Lightning, far too black and smelling of death to be from Thor, flicked up the blade, making the souls cry out. The Guardian had taken his sword after the last fight with Wisp, and so Tony was without any arms to defend himself, but he could do this. He had to do this. He had to win this fight, and then he had to face Iron Dust, and he had to kill Iron Dust, and then White Song.
Wisp swung the blade, and Tony jumped into the air, his feet clearing the low sweep of the sword and landed with his hand splayed open. He poured as much force as he could behind the Essence blast, and Wisp took it all right in his face. Wisp flew backward into a wall, between Thor and Kazuya. Both looked at Wisp as he fought back to his feet, and then they looked at Tony.
Tony wiggled his fingers happily at them, and then cursed when Kazuya turned toward him, Wisp on his heel.
They now saw him as the largest threat in the room, and they were focused on him now. “T-Thor!” he called. “I’ve got their attention, do your worst!”
Thor nodded and charged, hammer twirling fast enough to call a forceful wind into the room. The two zombies paused, clearly torn between Tony’s Exalted powers, and Thor’s godly powers.
“Iron Man?”
The voice was like cold water pouring down his back. Tony stood straight, his eyes closed against the hope that he knew was hopeless. Too much time had passed and there was no way Iron Dust could be alive.
He turned to face the zombie in Iron Dust’s body and found himself face to face with wide yellow eyes that were as clear as the others’ were glazed. Tony gaped. “How?”
Iron Dust uncurled his arms, the long sleeves of his burial costume moving aside to reveal Glare curled up around his waist. Tony’s eyes went wide. “Glare? I don’t understand.”
“She wanted to see you again.”
Tony huffed out a laugh as the small nymph slowly woke, her blue eyes slowly blinking up at him. She didn’t quite smile, but her features lifted and she reached out for him. He reached out, the jade gauntlets pulling away so he could touch her skin to skin. “You’re alive,” he whispered.
“Tony, what the hell, man? What language are you speaking?”
Tony blinked back into the moment and looked down at Hawkeye, still mostly hidden from the others behind Iron Dust’s coffin. “What? Oh, never mind.” He helped Iron Dust and Glare out of the coffin. Glare scrambled away, quickly blending into the background and out of sight. Tony knew she would be safe wherever she disappeared to, so he turned back to Iron Dust. “Can you help her?” He held out his hand toward the Black Widow, so pale and deathly still.
Iron Dust dropped to his knees next to her and placed his hand on her brow. “See to Wisp,” Iron Dust murmured in English, slightly accented, without raising his eyes from Natasha. Clint tightened his hold on her, his eyes suspicious.
Tony nodded. “You can trust him,” he said to Hawkeye. “I trust him with my life, and I’d trust him with hers. He’ll help her.”
Hawkeye’s lips thinned, but after a moment he nodded. Iron Dust shuffled closer and cradled her head in his hands.
Tony turned away, then, watching Wisp as he dismissed Thor finally, as Thor and Kazuya clashed once more. Tony grinned, knowing that he had Iron Dust at his back giving him confidence. Before Wisp could attack, Tony attacked, throwing a flurry of punches that Wisp struggled to block, adding low kicks, and even another blast of Essence.
Wisp was charged with black lightning, and he had no qualms about using it against Tony. The first, hit Tony head on, sending the HUD flickering a moment before JARVIS reported a boost to his charge, again. Tony grinned and ignored the technology at his disposable, but used his own Essence to attack.
When Wisp overreached, Tony tossed him over a shoulder and into Kazuya’s arms. He quickly turned to Iron Dust. “How do we defeat them? They’re already dead, so what damage they receive is nothing to them. What do we do?”
Iron Dust never looked up from Natasha’s face, his hands faintly glowing yellow. “Bring me the bow and arrows, love. And then wake White Song.”
Tony nodded and ducked under Wisp’s next attack. He summersaulted under Wisp’s blade and caught up Hawkeye’s bow. The quiver was farther away, and called for dancing around Kazuya as he pressed Thor into retreat. From a quick glance, Tony gleamed that Thor had added more cracks to the jade armor and broken many fingers on his hands. Still, the zombie didn’t stop.
Hell, had Kazuya been alive, he wouldn’t have let broken bones stop him. Grinning, Tony snatched up the quiver and turned to face Wisp. Wisp reached out to grapple with him, his body weight pulling Tony down to the ground. The balancing thrusters on his shoulders activated enough to give Tony the leverage to push Wisp off him. He kicked at his gut, punched at his head, and finally got free long enough to toss the bow and arrows to Hawkeye.
Hawkeye stood, caught the bow with one hand, the quiver in the other, and then crouched back down to hover protectively over the Black Widow. “This won’t work. They just catch my arrows.”
Iron Dust released his gentle hold on the Black Widow and reached into his robes. He pulled out a few thin strips of paper with black calligraphy scrawled on them. He pressed each one to his lips, murmured something that JARVIS helpfully zeroed in on for Tony to hear.
“Once there was a maiden that called into the darkness.
There was none to hear her cry,
And she woke alone in the predawn.
It was while awake she knew light was at the end.”
He repeated the sutra over again for each paper before folding the papers lengthwise. He motioned for Hawkeye to pull an arrow free of the quiver, and then Tony was distracted by Wisp.
Tony ducked and weaved around Wisp. It was all he could do to not to be nicked by the blade, feeling the Essence that the sword wanted to suck out of him. The blade was hungry for his Essence, and Tony didn’t need Iron Dust to tell him that that blade could kill him by sucking out his Essence.
The next thing he knew, Hawkeye was taking aim, the tip of his arrow wrapped in that paper charm. Tony hissed his breath out and jumped out of the way before the arrow left the bow, arcing in air. The paper glowed yellow a moment before it exploded with Essence, the arrow turning into a holy dart.
The arrow, of course, was aimed true, and Kazuya saw it. He moved far faster than possible for a human, but the arrow reached him first. He went to knock it out of the air with his broken hand, but the magic in the paper was far more powerful than the zombie voodoo. This explosion was far larger than the first one, engulfing Kazuya completely in the yellow Essence. For a moment, nothing more seemed to happen as Kazuya stumbled back two more steps. And then his body went limp. He fell to his knees, the glow of Essence fueled life leaving his eyes.
Then his body decayed in a matter of seconds, the armor slipping off the bones, and the flesh flaking off into dust. He crumpled down, and was finished, he Essence leaving him in a faint white wisp, like smoke.
The others took a moment to stare, and Tony took that moment to rush to White Song’s coffin.
He hadn’t seen her before he went back, and was mildly surprised to see her wearing robes not dissimilar to Iron Dust’s, heavy and full. Her hair was a wild mass of gold curls held in place with gold combs and ivory clips.
Tony could see Sweet Leaf nestled in her arms, the brown hair of the creature only just visible through the folds of White Song’s robes. He gripped the glass lid and pulled until he heard the air pressure release. Within seconds, White Song’s eyes began to flutter and her grip on Sweet Leaf loosened.
Tony didn’t have time to watch her come around. Wisp was back at him, his sword as fast as lightning. Tony cursed and avoided the first swing, but Wisp spun the blade in his hand and had it coming back at Tony before he could fully react.
JARVIS called out a warning. “I see it,” Tony snapped as the blade cut into his already irrevocably damaged chest plate. The blade easily cut the metal, empowered with magic as it was. The Iron Man armor gave way under the soulsteel, and Tony could feel his Essence pouring out of him from that wound before the sword was jerked out of his side.
Tony cursed and fell to his knees, clutching at his side. A bit of Essence stopped the bleeding and closed the wound before he grew too weak, and he scrambled out of the way of Wisp’s next attack.
And then White Song was roaring loud enough to hurt his eardrums through the speakers. He heard both Hawkeye and Cap curse.
“Don’t attack her!” Tony called, still reeling from the echo of her roar. “She’s friendly!”
“You call that friendly!?”
“She’s on our side!” Then he switched to her language. “White Song, these men are my circle.”
She had taken on her beastman form, towering over everybody in the room, everything human about her gone, leaving behind only the body shape. Her face was that of a tiger, a muzzle and thick whiskers where her mouth and chin should have been. Her robes were gone and in their place was the orange and black fur. She had a tail that was as thick as a rope and whipped about with anger.
Her yellow cat eyes weren’t on him, but on Wisp, and her lip curled back from her teeth as she snarled at him. She had become quite protective of him, he thought with a grin.
She launched over Tony and landed with her claws extended in Wisp’s shoulders. She picked him up and chucked him across the room. Nearly standing on all fours, she turned to follow his path and roared at him, her fur bristling.
Finally having a moment to breath, Tony looked around to see Thor and Cap now facing off against Stone’s Throw. Hawkeye had a second arrow notched and aimed, but he held his shot as the three men danced around each other in a flurry of attacks, blocks, and throws. Tony rested one hand on his wounded side and steadied his breathing, reading the warnings displayed on his HUD a moment before he jumped back into the fray.
A movement across the room caught his eye. He turned to see The Hour at Hand standing in the shadows cast by the doorframe, his eyes glittering in the light as he glared into the room. Tony grinned, suddenly unbearably happy. The Hour at Hand’s plan to defeat the Avengers had failed. He was living proof of that.
He had found the weapon promised to be able to defeat him.
Exaltation. Knowledge. All of it.
He turned to Iron Dust. “Now, Iron Dust, call it.”
Iron Dust didn’t look at him, but nodded sharply. Hawkeye took the shot and hit Stone’s Throw in the back. Iron Dust’s Essence enveloped Stone’s Throw and turned him into a dead corpse. Thor, mid Monjir swing, went with the momentum of the swing and came to a stop facing Hawkeye, his cape fluttering around his ankles. “What manner of arrow is that? I have not seen you use one like that before.”
“Dude’s got magic,” Hawkeye said, already notching another armed arrow. He grinned as he took aim. “It’s awesome. He charges my arrows, and I’m back in the game, guys.”
“That’s good to hear, Hawkeye,” Tony called. “But stay out of White Song’s way and let’s go after The Hour at Hand.” He took off out the door, having watched the Infernal retreat. Cap was right on his heels, Thor behind him. He hoped Hawkeye would follow, for they were going to need those spelled arrows.
“What?” Hawkeye called as he chased after them. “No nicknames? What happened in the ten seconds you were gone?”
“A lifetime of events that changed everything. We need to surround him. Thor, take this hall and come around the front. It leads to the doors.” He could feel the phantom weight of the hearthstone in the palm of his hand as he reviewed the layout of the manse in his mind’s eye.
Tony paused as Thor took off down the hall, and faced Cap. “I know you usually take point, but let me do this.”
Cap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he nodded. “If you have it.”
Tony nodded. “I do.”
“Before we go,” he paused and glanced back the way they had come where they could still hear White Song’s snarls and growls. “What happened? Who are they, and how are you involved with them?”
“I want to tell you, and I promise I will, but not right now. I have something that can take him down, and we have to do it now. Trust me with this.”
He could see the indecision in his eyes, and suddenly, Tony missed Iron Dust and White Song at his side. They never doubted him internally. If they had a problem, they came right out and said it. And then they worked with him to fix it.
He couldn’t remember if Cap was like that. And that thought frightened him until he remembered that he was home now, and had the chance to relearn his people.
Then Cap was nodding, and Tony grinned. “I have this. I really do.”
He took one step, paused, and looked back over his shoulder. “Be ready with your shield, I’m counting on your perfect timing. Hawkeye, we’ll start with your spelled arrows.”
Hawkeye nodded and slipped around Tony to enter the foyer, bow string pulled taunt. Tony entered, on his heels, shoving the faceplate up.
“The Hour at Hand, how’s your master doing these days?”
The Hour at Hand turned to glare at him and then froze when he spotted the glowing arrow pointed at him. His eyes widened momentary before he schooled his features. “Stark, I see you survived the spell.”
“I did. And came back with a few tricks of my own.”
“Oh, did you? Still a little wet. Maybe you should be put back in the kiln to set a bit more.” He braced his feet shoulder width apart and held his hands at his sides, open and ready to reach for a weapon. Tony stepped around Hawkeye, careful not to get in the way of the arrow.
Through the comm., he said, “Wait until I’m have him between us before you shoot him.”
Hawkeye barely moved his chin in a nod to acknowledge his command, and Tony moved on.
“I gained my second breath in the Time of Tumult. I think this clay’s set pretty well, despite me being well protected.”
“Ah, yes, your two living coffin dwellers. Where did you find them?”
“Luna gave them to me.”
“Luna,” The Hour at Hand spat like a curse. “And the sky walker? She give him to you too?”
Tony grinned, wide and giddy. “You call them sky walkers?”
“Iron Man,” Cap warned, and Tony nodded, losing the smile.
“Right. Well, they’re on my side, and you’re still our enemy.” He circled around The Hour at Hand, but the man kept well out of the trap. He didn’t quite back into a wall, and the doorway was still open.
And then Thor was there and the door wasn’t an exit for him anymore. The Hour at Hand giggled, glancing about the Avengers that surrounded him. “You can’t win this. You have yet to win a battle against me.”
Tony smiled. “That was before I got the weapon you promised me.”
“There was no weapon.”
“Oh, but there was!” He dropped into his martial arts stance, his hands raised and his Essence filling the air with a red and gold blaze. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, but he couldn’t take the time to explain it all to them right then. “Me.”
The Hour at Hand grinned. “One on one? You know you can’t win against me.”
“We’ll never know until I try.”
There was suddenly a weapon in The Hour at Hands’ hand, a green blade that seemed to suck in light rather than reflect it. Tony slammed down the faceplate as fast as the weapon appeared. They hadn’t talked about the Infernals’ weapons, ever, with far more pressing things on their minds, and Tony was quite unwilling to see how magical this new metal was. The black soulsteel could drink his Essence. Who knew what this steel would do to him?
He had to open the rip in the tapestry open before the Infernal could attack.
Thor was a wide door block, his thick arms crossed over his chest, little bolts of electricity crackling over his body. The only other exit was blocked by Cap and Hawkeye. He just needed to get him between Tony and Hawkeye.
The manse trembled momentary, nearly knocking them all off their feet, and The Hour at Hand took that opportunity to make his move. The blade of his didn’t whistle, nor did it moan as it cut the air, but it seemed to absorb whatever sound it should have been making. Tony nearly didn’t get out of the way, but a bust of Essence gave him that last bit of distance and he fell to the ground, rolling away and finally he was between them.
He pulled out the scroll gifted to him by The Guardian of Kindled Fires. He regained his feet, slipped the ribbon off and opened the scroll. He dropped it to the ground and JARVIS pulled the words up on the HUD. Tony spoke the words, and they were once more heavy and thick on his tongue. The fell from his lips like rocks, thickening the air and making it tremble not unlike the manse had.
The air rippled and waves rose up around them very much like heat waves.
Iron Dust appeared behind Cap, the Black Widow leaning heavily on his shoulder, but awake and her eyes clear. Iron Dust’s lips were moving, but Tony couldn’t hear his words, despite knowing that he was saying the same spell.
The floor around the scroll alit with a circle, spilling light like it were a crack on the jade. Threads split and pulled apart, revealing a strange void between the threads. Tony stared down into the void and felt his voice leave him. It made the breath leave his lungs and his heart pound slow like a dying twitch.
Hawkeye shot the arrow and hit The Hour at Hand in the back. The yellow Essence exploded like a bomb, sending the man staggering. He nearly tripped into the crack with the force of the blow, and Cap took the final hit, the shield pushing him that final bit more. The Hour at Hand cursed and reached for Tony.
Still frozen with the awe that encompassed him, Tony nearly didn’t react, and The Hour at Hand grabbed him, pulling him forward.
“No!” Thor cried, reaching for him, as he was the closest. He was still too far.
Tony felt the ground under him disappear, and he fell. He heard White Song’s scream, almost human despite her current animal form. She launched into the room in slow motion it seemed to Tony. Everything was in slow motion. Cap was running toward him, one foot fall falling every minute. Hawkeye lowered his bow, taking hours to do so. White Song took forever to land, her muscles rippling with every movement, and Tony could see it all in fine detail as he slipped from the firm ground of Creation and into Chaos.
Behind them all, he could see Iron Dust, still as stone, eyes bright, and Essence clouding around him. He caught Tony’s stare and held it.
The Hour at Hand still had a firm hold on him, dragging him ever downward. His nails scraped at Tony’s skin and suddenly Tony knew that he wasn’t going to die like this. He pulled his own Essence out, wrapped his hands around it and attacked in a flurry of sharp blows. Each blow landed with an explosion of red and gold Essence splatter. The first broke through the armor The Hour at Hand wore around his chest, the second broke skin.
The third broke bone, and he screamed with rage. A green star burst through on his brow and Tony snarled in uncontrolled anger, hatred, and rage, matching The Hour at Hand in passion. He kicked up, using the Hour at Hand as a launch pad as the man descended the moment his grip loosened.
He reached up and two hands caught him. Thor on one side, White Song on the other.
They pulled him up and out of the rip just as they began to curl together, weaving Creation back. Tony couldn’t see the spiders, but he knew Iron Dust could. Leaning back against Thor’s chest, Tony chuckled.
Then he giggled.
He pulled his helmet off and commanded the gauntlets to retreat. He caught Iron Dust’s gaze again. “He called you Skywalker.”
Iron Dust tilted his head one way, and Hawkeye tilted his the other, both in confusion. Tony pointed. “He’s a Jedi!” Then he collapsed into a mad fit of giggles. “I still hate magic.”
White Song shoved him none too gently and stood. “You’re a creature blessed with holy magic,” she said in English, her accent very different than Iron Dust’s.
“What the hell’s going on,” Hawkeye said, standing. He took Black Widow’s weight away from Iron Dust and unsubtly put himself between them.
Tony finally sat under his own power, pulling away from Thor. “Well, it all started when The Hour at Hand came to me last week.”
Fandom: Exalted/Avengers
Prompt: kiln
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: After falling into a trap, the first order of business it to find out where you are. But, if where you are makes no sense, then what are you supposed to do? Traveling to the future is easy, just fall asleep, right? Waking up to a whole different world is harder. Luckily, Tony Stark can adapt to any environment.
The room had changed once again, Tony noted when he stepped through the doors. Stone’s Throw was knelt before the glass coffin, now propped up against the wall not unlike the way the other’s had been in the future. Stone’s Throw was murmuring a fervent prayer under his breath. Tony watched him a moment before turning his eyes to Wisp.
Iron Dust had bullied him into the room, his mark of exaltation nearly blazing, the mark of his Maiden bold on his brow. Tony’s lips tilted up as he recognized the symbol of Mercury. Wisp hissed something at Iron Dust, and Iron Dust merely shook his head in response. That only angered Wisp more, and he surged to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over Iron Dust. Tony took a step forward, but he needn’t have worried.
There was a white line of something on the floor making a circle in which Wisp couldn’t seem to pass. He stood with the toes of his boots just avoiding the line.
Tony wondered if the old adage about salt and the dead was true.
Iron Dust tilted his head back to keep eye contact and arched a pale brow. “Try me, Death Knight,” he said in a slow drawl. “I’ll show you why I’ve allowed White Song to be the mediator between us.”
Wisp visibly had to gather his composure, taking a deep breath and clenching his fists at his side before he took a step back and slouched against the wall. “You send him back, we will lose this war. When we are defeated, it will be on your hands, silver tongue. It is your soul that will carry the guilt.”
Iron Dust nodded. “This, I know.” His voice was low and full of pain. Tony bit his lips and looked away. The guilt that Wisp said rested on Iron Dust’s soul, settled nicely next to the guilt of Tony’s past in his soul. He swallowed hard and blinked away the sting in his eyes. He didn’t think he was going to be able to look at a machine ever again without seeing these people in his mind’s eye.
The Guardian touched his elbow and pointed toward the raise dais that the coffin had been removed from. Tony started in that direction but paused and looked at Yinsen. “In the future,” he started.
Yinsen shook his head. “Tell me no more. The future will be what it will be.”
“No, wait.” He glanced out the open doors and wished to see White Song again. At least once more. “When I was here first, there were six coffins.”
Yinsen tilted his head to one side, eyes distant, but clearly listening intently. “What of it?”
“There’s only one now.”
Yinsen’s dark yellow eyes turned toward Tony’s past body. When recognition filled those eyes, Tony’s jaw dropped. “You, you were in my dream.”
Yinsen’s eyes flicked back to Tony. “Dream? You have dreams of a previous age? Your past life?”
Tony nodded. “Just the once. I don’t recognize you from them, but you recognize me.”
“Yes, from my own past life. I have many memoires from then. I shall see about the arrangements for the other coffins.” He turned away, but Tony caught his arm.
“The people in them,” he whispered, harshly.
There was a smile on Yinsen’s face that Tony had never seen before, and it left him feeling that he hadn’t known Yinsen at all. How much of what Yinsen told him in the cave had been a lie? Yinsen’s eyes were on Iron Dust as he directed the other men to arrange themselves around the room. “I know what bodies you saw, Lost Path.” Tony opened his mouth to respond, but Yinsen shook his head. “They’ve been attached to you for a long time. I can see the threads that tie you six together.”
He reached out and touched a finger to Tony’s smallest finger. “Threads that tie you to the ones that have a place in your life. Be they lovers, family, or strangers. The threads that connect you to these two are particularly strong.” He dropped his hand and threw his opposite arm wide. “Stars of Sorrow, you can’t mean that spell to work with that little trick!” He stalked over to Iron Dust, and the two bent over a length of runes. Tony stepped forward to better read the ancient words.
Stone’s Throw turned away from the body finally and narrowed his eyes at Tony, screwed up his face, and then seemed to come to a decision. He approached Tony and folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t see him in you.”
“Knew him?”
“My father’s father’s father’s grandfather.”
Tony smiled. “I can’t see him in you either.”
A flash of rage crossed Stone’s Throw’s features before he could hide it behind a mask of cool indifference. Then he forced a smile. “I look like my mother’s people,” he admitted. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the distant ceiling. “I was raised on stories of the Gifted One. He built not only this manse, but the very structure of my family’s traditions and beliefs. He stood with the Green Tiger in times long ago. He was the greatest hero of our lands.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“When I exalted, I had hoped that I could be half the hero he was. I had hoped that his Shard had come to me.” He shook his head. “And yet, here you are.” He looked at Wisp, prowling like a wild cat around a barrier that Iron Dust had set up on the ground. “And they all want you.”
“They want me to go against my morals and fight a war not my own.”
“You are Exalt. This is your war.”
Tony grasped him by his shoulder and forced him to look at him. “I have my own battles back home to fight. This isn’t my war. Even Luna has made it clear that I am not needed here.”
At Luna’s name, Stone’s Throw’s eyes went wide. “She came to you?”
Tony shook his head. “To him.” Together, they watched the two men that claimed to hold fate in their hands. “She came to him and ordered him to fetch me and see me home. If Luna commands me gone, who am I to object?”
Stone’s Throw snorted. “Convenient reasoning. Still, I have no doubt that regrets will keep you up at night for years to come, once you go home.”
Tony stared at the back of Iron Dust’s head. The silver of his hair was brighter than it had any right to be. The jade and marble of the manse was pristine and nearly shimmered in the low lighting. The colors of this world seemed so much brighter, so much fuller. As if there were another, secret dimension that had been lost to the people that relied so heavily upon technology in the future.
“Of that, I have no doubt. I will miss this world, and I will regret that I’m not meant to be here.” He shook his head. “But I will not regret going home. I will not change this past, for my own selfish reasons, and I cannot afford to allow anybody to change what I know has happened.”
Stone’s Throw gave him an odd look, and Tony belatedly realized that he thought Tony came from a different world, not from the future. Tony wrinkled his nose. “I have to go home. There is no way about it.”
“You’re taking with you the shard of Essence that could be a warrior that could help up in our war,” he started, voice and eyes thoughtful as he gazed steadily at Tony. “If not me, then someone else, far more likely to help us in ways you refuse.”
“Be still,” Yinsen said as he rejoined them. “From my understanding, Luna tried to stop you from Exalting. She knew you to be a warrior of your own world, but we didn’t bank on you being so much of a scholar. That was our mistake.”
“And all of Creation will pay for that mistake,” Stone’s Throw snapped.
Yinsen tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Be that as it is, Stars of Sorrow has also informed me of what waits for you on your world, Lost Path. Once more is Creation threatened by those that serve the demons.” He pulled a rolled piece of paper from out of his cloak. “This, you will take with you.” Tony accepted the bit of paper and fingered the tiny ribbon holding it together.
“What is it?”
“It is a spell. Use it wisely, for it can only be used once. Be careful, because if you misuse it, not only will your Infernal fall into Chaos, but so will you.” He turned to direct Stone’s Throw to a spot in the room far opposite Wisp of Shadow.
“Chaos?” Tony questioned. “What do you mean?”
“He means,” Iron Dust said before Yinsen could respond. “That that spell will rip apart the tapestry of Creation. Once it does, you must throw the Infernal into the rip.”
Tony clenched his fist around the scroll. “Easy as pie.”
Iron Dust smiled. “Yes. You’re clever and quick, I have faith that you can do this.”
“And it will close?”
“You only have moments from when it opens to when the spiders will weave the threads back together. You will only have that once chance.”
“You could give me more scrolls.”
“Do you think it will fall for the same trick twice?”
Tony made a face. “Right, so, how about me getting home?”
Iron Dust held his hands out before him and smiled. “We shall begin. I’ve changed the spell a bit to allow me to substitute the fifth caste. You, stand here, on the dais.” He pointed to Wisp. “South.” He pointed to Stone’s Throw. “East.” He pointed toward the empty door. “North.” He placed his hand on his chest as he took place between the door and Stone’s Throw, facing Tony. “West.” He stared at Tony, face blank. “Read the spell, Lost Path, find your way home.”
Tony stared right back at him, trying to commit his features to memory. From the moment he met Iron Dust, he had known that they would soon part. This was the moment he had been hoping for for so long. This was where he wanted to be, but he was going to miss this world far more than he had ever thought he would.
He still hadn’t seen White Song, and in his mind’s eye, he saw her and Iron Dust as he had first seen them together. White Song leaning heavily on Iron Dust’s shoulder as they both stared at him, listening to his story. He was going to miss them.
He licked his lips and turned his eyes to the runes that had been carved into the stone, and the new runes that had been added by Iron Dust and Yinsen. With only a small bit of Essence, they morphed into sounds he could read, if not words he could understand. As he began to recite the spell, the sounds took on meaning in his head, and the words were like heavy weights on his tongue, falling from his lips to pour into the room like dust from broken rocks.
The earth didn’t shake, and the manse didn’t react, but the stone he had nearly forgotten in his hand began to thrum with the rhythm of his words. And then he realized there was a musical quality to what he was saying and he allowed his Essence to seep into the heavy words, imbue them with even more power.
The stone, his stone, began to crumble in his hand like sandstone, turning to dust as the air around him filled with red and gold Essence. He rubbed his fingers together, feeling the last of the stone disappear, and closed his eyes.
A sudden gush of wind stole his breath and he choked on the last words. Coughing, he grasped at his throat, but the armor was in the way. He heaved and bent over, trying his damnedest to get a breath into his lungs despite the dust’s and his own Essence’s attempts to the otherwise.
Then there was lightning arching through the Essence and it shocked him to the core. He stumbled and crashed off the dais and into something hard. His faceplate had slammed down over his eyes at some point. “JARVIS,” he croaked, water streaming from the corners of his eyes. The faceplate opened again and finally there was fresh air.
“Iron Man!”
Startled, he whipped his head to the side fast enough to give him whiplash, to see Hawkeye kneeling on the ground with Black Widow’s still body resting in his arms. There was blood matted in her hair, and her fine brows were curved down in a painful grimace. Hawkeye sat there gaping at him while he stood gaping at Hawkeye.
~*~*~
Before Tony could react to Hawkeye’s gaping face, there was a crash from behind him and Thor screamed in rage as his hammer slammed against Kazuya’s damaged armor. Tony ducked under the debris that flew in the wake of Thor’s lightning, and JARVIS helpfully brought up the display that showed Kazuya’s Essence flow.
It was very different from what Tony had grown used to seeing. The bright white and vibrant flow of life was absent from the Essence that flowed like syrup through Kazuya’s body. Even his body seemed to move slower and sluggishly.
Tony had a brief moment of memory of thinking that these zombies had been graceful and swift. Oh, how little he had known, back then.
He wet his lips and crouched down beside Hawkeye and the Black Widow. “How is she?”
Hawkeye adjusted his grip on her, cradling her head carefully. “She needs help. We can’t get across the room with her while they’re fighting, and even if we did, The Hour at Hand is outside, waiting for us.”
Tony glared out the door, the shadows beyond the frame dark and the air pouring in cool. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, keep her safe, and let’s end this game.” He stood and faced Iron Dust’s coffin. His arms were crossed over his chest, a staff clutched in one hand. The fingers on that hand twitched with awareness, with the influx of Essence. JARVIS’ display showed only hints of yellow Essence, for he hadn’t seen much of a display from him, and Tony firmly believed that Sidereals had a different way of using Essence than the rest of them.
He rested his bare hand on the glass. “Let’s get this over with quickly. I don’t think I could kill you myself if I gave myself time to think about it.”
He grabbed the coffin’s lid and pulled it free. There was a gush of pressurized air and Hawkeye snapped, “Iron Man, what the hell are you doing? We can barely hold our own against three, why are you waking another one?” He looked Tony up and down. “What happened to your armor.”
“No time to explain.” Tony stepped back as Iron Dust’s body slumped forward, his hair slowly pouring over one shoulder as his hands dropped to his side.
From behind, he heard the telltale sound of Cap’s shield speeding through the air toward them. Tony cursed and turned on his heel to spot the disc flying at him. He called his armor to cover his hands and reached out to catch the shield, noting Wisp of Shadow turning to follow the shield with his narrowed eyes. When they landed upon Tony, he turned his body to follow.
His dark Essence was just as sluggish and heavy as Kazuya’s, and Tony finally admitted that their Essence was dead. They were dead and the only think keeping them moving was the remains of their Essence. Their souls had moved on and only the mortal bodies remained. He didn’t want to turn back to Iron Dust and see him as dead as the others.
He caught the shield and spun with the force of the blow, turning on his heel and returning the shield to Cap. The Captain plucked the shield out of the air and brought it down in time to block a blow from Stone’s Throw. Stone’s Throw’s axe slid harmlessly off the shield, and he stepped closer to Cap, brought his opposite hand up and caught the edge of the shield. Cap shook him off and ducked away.
Wisp was approaching fast, and Tony had the feeling that, even dead, really dead this time, the Death Knight was still going to be too much for him. He hated to admit it, but he hadn’t won a fight on his own the whole time he had been in the past. Licking his lips, he assumed his fighting stance, and prepared himself, his Essence flowing as light as a feather, as heady as champagne. He stood on the balls of his feet, ready.
Wisp unstrapped his sword, and he unsheathed it with a moan of the blade. Lightning, far too black and smelling of death to be from Thor, flicked up the blade, making the souls cry out. The Guardian had taken his sword after the last fight with Wisp, and so Tony was without any arms to defend himself, but he could do this. He had to do this. He had to win this fight, and then he had to face Iron Dust, and he had to kill Iron Dust, and then White Song.
Wisp swung the blade, and Tony jumped into the air, his feet clearing the low sweep of the sword and landed with his hand splayed open. He poured as much force as he could behind the Essence blast, and Wisp took it all right in his face. Wisp flew backward into a wall, between Thor and Kazuya. Both looked at Wisp as he fought back to his feet, and then they looked at Tony.
Tony wiggled his fingers happily at them, and then cursed when Kazuya turned toward him, Wisp on his heel.
They now saw him as the largest threat in the room, and they were focused on him now. “T-Thor!” he called. “I’ve got their attention, do your worst!”
Thor nodded and charged, hammer twirling fast enough to call a forceful wind into the room. The two zombies paused, clearly torn between Tony’s Exalted powers, and Thor’s godly powers.
“Iron Man?”
The voice was like cold water pouring down his back. Tony stood straight, his eyes closed against the hope that he knew was hopeless. Too much time had passed and there was no way Iron Dust could be alive.
He turned to face the zombie in Iron Dust’s body and found himself face to face with wide yellow eyes that were as clear as the others’ were glazed. Tony gaped. “How?”
Iron Dust uncurled his arms, the long sleeves of his burial costume moving aside to reveal Glare curled up around his waist. Tony’s eyes went wide. “Glare? I don’t understand.”
“She wanted to see you again.”
Tony huffed out a laugh as the small nymph slowly woke, her blue eyes slowly blinking up at him. She didn’t quite smile, but her features lifted and she reached out for him. He reached out, the jade gauntlets pulling away so he could touch her skin to skin. “You’re alive,” he whispered.
“Tony, what the hell, man? What language are you speaking?”
Tony blinked back into the moment and looked down at Hawkeye, still mostly hidden from the others behind Iron Dust’s coffin. “What? Oh, never mind.” He helped Iron Dust and Glare out of the coffin. Glare scrambled away, quickly blending into the background and out of sight. Tony knew she would be safe wherever she disappeared to, so he turned back to Iron Dust. “Can you help her?” He held out his hand toward the Black Widow, so pale and deathly still.
Iron Dust dropped to his knees next to her and placed his hand on her brow. “See to Wisp,” Iron Dust murmured in English, slightly accented, without raising his eyes from Natasha. Clint tightened his hold on her, his eyes suspicious.
Tony nodded. “You can trust him,” he said to Hawkeye. “I trust him with my life, and I’d trust him with hers. He’ll help her.”
Hawkeye’s lips thinned, but after a moment he nodded. Iron Dust shuffled closer and cradled her head in his hands.
Tony turned away, then, watching Wisp as he dismissed Thor finally, as Thor and Kazuya clashed once more. Tony grinned, knowing that he had Iron Dust at his back giving him confidence. Before Wisp could attack, Tony attacked, throwing a flurry of punches that Wisp struggled to block, adding low kicks, and even another blast of Essence.
Wisp was charged with black lightning, and he had no qualms about using it against Tony. The first, hit Tony head on, sending the HUD flickering a moment before JARVIS reported a boost to his charge, again. Tony grinned and ignored the technology at his disposable, but used his own Essence to attack.
When Wisp overreached, Tony tossed him over a shoulder and into Kazuya’s arms. He quickly turned to Iron Dust. “How do we defeat them? They’re already dead, so what damage they receive is nothing to them. What do we do?”
Iron Dust never looked up from Natasha’s face, his hands faintly glowing yellow. “Bring me the bow and arrows, love. And then wake White Song.”
Tony nodded and ducked under Wisp’s next attack. He summersaulted under Wisp’s blade and caught up Hawkeye’s bow. The quiver was farther away, and called for dancing around Kazuya as he pressed Thor into retreat. From a quick glance, Tony gleamed that Thor had added more cracks to the jade armor and broken many fingers on his hands. Still, the zombie didn’t stop.
Hell, had Kazuya been alive, he wouldn’t have let broken bones stop him. Grinning, Tony snatched up the quiver and turned to face Wisp. Wisp reached out to grapple with him, his body weight pulling Tony down to the ground. The balancing thrusters on his shoulders activated enough to give Tony the leverage to push Wisp off him. He kicked at his gut, punched at his head, and finally got free long enough to toss the bow and arrows to Hawkeye.
Hawkeye stood, caught the bow with one hand, the quiver in the other, and then crouched back down to hover protectively over the Black Widow. “This won’t work. They just catch my arrows.”
Iron Dust released his gentle hold on the Black Widow and reached into his robes. He pulled out a few thin strips of paper with black calligraphy scrawled on them. He pressed each one to his lips, murmured something that JARVIS helpfully zeroed in on for Tony to hear.
“Once there was a maiden that called into the darkness.
There was none to hear her cry,
And she woke alone in the predawn.
It was while awake she knew light was at the end.”
He repeated the sutra over again for each paper before folding the papers lengthwise. He motioned for Hawkeye to pull an arrow free of the quiver, and then Tony was distracted by Wisp.
Tony ducked and weaved around Wisp. It was all he could do to not to be nicked by the blade, feeling the Essence that the sword wanted to suck out of him. The blade was hungry for his Essence, and Tony didn’t need Iron Dust to tell him that that blade could kill him by sucking out his Essence.
The next thing he knew, Hawkeye was taking aim, the tip of his arrow wrapped in that paper charm. Tony hissed his breath out and jumped out of the way before the arrow left the bow, arcing in air. The paper glowed yellow a moment before it exploded with Essence, the arrow turning into a holy dart.
The arrow, of course, was aimed true, and Kazuya saw it. He moved far faster than possible for a human, but the arrow reached him first. He went to knock it out of the air with his broken hand, but the magic in the paper was far more powerful than the zombie voodoo. This explosion was far larger than the first one, engulfing Kazuya completely in the yellow Essence. For a moment, nothing more seemed to happen as Kazuya stumbled back two more steps. And then his body went limp. He fell to his knees, the glow of Essence fueled life leaving his eyes.
Then his body decayed in a matter of seconds, the armor slipping off the bones, and the flesh flaking off into dust. He crumpled down, and was finished, he Essence leaving him in a faint white wisp, like smoke.
The others took a moment to stare, and Tony took that moment to rush to White Song’s coffin.
He hadn’t seen her before he went back, and was mildly surprised to see her wearing robes not dissimilar to Iron Dust’s, heavy and full. Her hair was a wild mass of gold curls held in place with gold combs and ivory clips.
Tony could see Sweet Leaf nestled in her arms, the brown hair of the creature only just visible through the folds of White Song’s robes. He gripped the glass lid and pulled until he heard the air pressure release. Within seconds, White Song’s eyes began to flutter and her grip on Sweet Leaf loosened.
Tony didn’t have time to watch her come around. Wisp was back at him, his sword as fast as lightning. Tony cursed and avoided the first swing, but Wisp spun the blade in his hand and had it coming back at Tony before he could fully react.
JARVIS called out a warning. “I see it,” Tony snapped as the blade cut into his already irrevocably damaged chest plate. The blade easily cut the metal, empowered with magic as it was. The Iron Man armor gave way under the soulsteel, and Tony could feel his Essence pouring out of him from that wound before the sword was jerked out of his side.
Tony cursed and fell to his knees, clutching at his side. A bit of Essence stopped the bleeding and closed the wound before he grew too weak, and he scrambled out of the way of Wisp’s next attack.
And then White Song was roaring loud enough to hurt his eardrums through the speakers. He heard both Hawkeye and Cap curse.
“Don’t attack her!” Tony called, still reeling from the echo of her roar. “She’s friendly!”
“You call that friendly!?”
“She’s on our side!” Then he switched to her language. “White Song, these men are my circle.”
She had taken on her beastman form, towering over everybody in the room, everything human about her gone, leaving behind only the body shape. Her face was that of a tiger, a muzzle and thick whiskers where her mouth and chin should have been. Her robes were gone and in their place was the orange and black fur. She had a tail that was as thick as a rope and whipped about with anger.
Her yellow cat eyes weren’t on him, but on Wisp, and her lip curled back from her teeth as she snarled at him. She had become quite protective of him, he thought with a grin.
She launched over Tony and landed with her claws extended in Wisp’s shoulders. She picked him up and chucked him across the room. Nearly standing on all fours, she turned to follow his path and roared at him, her fur bristling.
Finally having a moment to breath, Tony looked around to see Thor and Cap now facing off against Stone’s Throw. Hawkeye had a second arrow notched and aimed, but he held his shot as the three men danced around each other in a flurry of attacks, blocks, and throws. Tony rested one hand on his wounded side and steadied his breathing, reading the warnings displayed on his HUD a moment before he jumped back into the fray.
A movement across the room caught his eye. He turned to see The Hour at Hand standing in the shadows cast by the doorframe, his eyes glittering in the light as he glared into the room. Tony grinned, suddenly unbearably happy. The Hour at Hand’s plan to defeat the Avengers had failed. He was living proof of that.
He had found the weapon promised to be able to defeat him.
Exaltation. Knowledge. All of it.
He turned to Iron Dust. “Now, Iron Dust, call it.”
Iron Dust didn’t look at him, but nodded sharply. Hawkeye took the shot and hit Stone’s Throw in the back. Iron Dust’s Essence enveloped Stone’s Throw and turned him into a dead corpse. Thor, mid Monjir swing, went with the momentum of the swing and came to a stop facing Hawkeye, his cape fluttering around his ankles. “What manner of arrow is that? I have not seen you use one like that before.”
“Dude’s got magic,” Hawkeye said, already notching another armed arrow. He grinned as he took aim. “It’s awesome. He charges my arrows, and I’m back in the game, guys.”
“That’s good to hear, Hawkeye,” Tony called. “But stay out of White Song’s way and let’s go after The Hour at Hand.” He took off out the door, having watched the Infernal retreat. Cap was right on his heels, Thor behind him. He hoped Hawkeye would follow, for they were going to need those spelled arrows.
“What?” Hawkeye called as he chased after them. “No nicknames? What happened in the ten seconds you were gone?”
“A lifetime of events that changed everything. We need to surround him. Thor, take this hall and come around the front. It leads to the doors.” He could feel the phantom weight of the hearthstone in the palm of his hand as he reviewed the layout of the manse in his mind’s eye.
Tony paused as Thor took off down the hall, and faced Cap. “I know you usually take point, but let me do this.”
Cap opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he nodded. “If you have it.”
Tony nodded. “I do.”
“Before we go,” he paused and glanced back the way they had come where they could still hear White Song’s snarls and growls. “What happened? Who are they, and how are you involved with them?”
“I want to tell you, and I promise I will, but not right now. I have something that can take him down, and we have to do it now. Trust me with this.”
He could see the indecision in his eyes, and suddenly, Tony missed Iron Dust and White Song at his side. They never doubted him internally. If they had a problem, they came right out and said it. And then they worked with him to fix it.
He couldn’t remember if Cap was like that. And that thought frightened him until he remembered that he was home now, and had the chance to relearn his people.
Then Cap was nodding, and Tony grinned. “I have this. I really do.”
He took one step, paused, and looked back over his shoulder. “Be ready with your shield, I’m counting on your perfect timing. Hawkeye, we’ll start with your spelled arrows.”
Hawkeye nodded and slipped around Tony to enter the foyer, bow string pulled taunt. Tony entered, on his heels, shoving the faceplate up.
“The Hour at Hand, how’s your master doing these days?”
The Hour at Hand turned to glare at him and then froze when he spotted the glowing arrow pointed at him. His eyes widened momentary before he schooled his features. “Stark, I see you survived the spell.”
“I did. And came back with a few tricks of my own.”
“Oh, did you? Still a little wet. Maybe you should be put back in the kiln to set a bit more.” He braced his feet shoulder width apart and held his hands at his sides, open and ready to reach for a weapon. Tony stepped around Hawkeye, careful not to get in the way of the arrow.
Through the comm., he said, “Wait until I’m have him between us before you shoot him.”
Hawkeye barely moved his chin in a nod to acknowledge his command, and Tony moved on.
“I gained my second breath in the Time of Tumult. I think this clay’s set pretty well, despite me being well protected.”
“Ah, yes, your two living coffin dwellers. Where did you find them?”
“Luna gave them to me.”
“Luna,” The Hour at Hand spat like a curse. “And the sky walker? She give him to you too?”
Tony grinned, wide and giddy. “You call them sky walkers?”
“Iron Man,” Cap warned, and Tony nodded, losing the smile.
“Right. Well, they’re on my side, and you’re still our enemy.” He circled around The Hour at Hand, but the man kept well out of the trap. He didn’t quite back into a wall, and the doorway was still open.
And then Thor was there and the door wasn’t an exit for him anymore. The Hour at Hand giggled, glancing about the Avengers that surrounded him. “You can’t win this. You have yet to win a battle against me.”
Tony smiled. “That was before I got the weapon you promised me.”
“There was no weapon.”
“Oh, but there was!” He dropped into his martial arts stance, his hands raised and his Essence filling the air with a red and gold blaze. He could feel the others’ eyes on him, but he couldn’t take the time to explain it all to them right then. “Me.”
The Hour at Hand grinned. “One on one? You know you can’t win against me.”
“We’ll never know until I try.”
There was suddenly a weapon in The Hour at Hands’ hand, a green blade that seemed to suck in light rather than reflect it. Tony slammed down the faceplate as fast as the weapon appeared. They hadn’t talked about the Infernals’ weapons, ever, with far more pressing things on their minds, and Tony was quite unwilling to see how magical this new metal was. The black soulsteel could drink his Essence. Who knew what this steel would do to him?
He had to open the rip in the tapestry open before the Infernal could attack.
Thor was a wide door block, his thick arms crossed over his chest, little bolts of electricity crackling over his body. The only other exit was blocked by Cap and Hawkeye. He just needed to get him between Tony and Hawkeye.
The manse trembled momentary, nearly knocking them all off their feet, and The Hour at Hand took that opportunity to make his move. The blade of his didn’t whistle, nor did it moan as it cut the air, but it seemed to absorb whatever sound it should have been making. Tony nearly didn’t get out of the way, but a bust of Essence gave him that last bit of distance and he fell to the ground, rolling away and finally he was between them.
He pulled out the scroll gifted to him by The Guardian of Kindled Fires. He regained his feet, slipped the ribbon off and opened the scroll. He dropped it to the ground and JARVIS pulled the words up on the HUD. Tony spoke the words, and they were once more heavy and thick on his tongue. The fell from his lips like rocks, thickening the air and making it tremble not unlike the manse had.
The air rippled and waves rose up around them very much like heat waves.
Iron Dust appeared behind Cap, the Black Widow leaning heavily on his shoulder, but awake and her eyes clear. Iron Dust’s lips were moving, but Tony couldn’t hear his words, despite knowing that he was saying the same spell.
The floor around the scroll alit with a circle, spilling light like it were a crack on the jade. Threads split and pulled apart, revealing a strange void between the threads. Tony stared down into the void and felt his voice leave him. It made the breath leave his lungs and his heart pound slow like a dying twitch.
Hawkeye shot the arrow and hit The Hour at Hand in the back. The yellow Essence exploded like a bomb, sending the man staggering. He nearly tripped into the crack with the force of the blow, and Cap took the final hit, the shield pushing him that final bit more. The Hour at Hand cursed and reached for Tony.
Still frozen with the awe that encompassed him, Tony nearly didn’t react, and The Hour at Hand grabbed him, pulling him forward.
“No!” Thor cried, reaching for him, as he was the closest. He was still too far.
Tony felt the ground under him disappear, and he fell. He heard White Song’s scream, almost human despite her current animal form. She launched into the room in slow motion it seemed to Tony. Everything was in slow motion. Cap was running toward him, one foot fall falling every minute. Hawkeye lowered his bow, taking hours to do so. White Song took forever to land, her muscles rippling with every movement, and Tony could see it all in fine detail as he slipped from the firm ground of Creation and into Chaos.
Behind them all, he could see Iron Dust, still as stone, eyes bright, and Essence clouding around him. He caught Tony’s stare and held it.
The Hour at Hand still had a firm hold on him, dragging him ever downward. His nails scraped at Tony’s skin and suddenly Tony knew that he wasn’t going to die like this. He pulled his own Essence out, wrapped his hands around it and attacked in a flurry of sharp blows. Each blow landed with an explosion of red and gold Essence splatter. The first broke through the armor The Hour at Hand wore around his chest, the second broke skin.
The third broke bone, and he screamed with rage. A green star burst through on his brow and Tony snarled in uncontrolled anger, hatred, and rage, matching The Hour at Hand in passion. He kicked up, using the Hour at Hand as a launch pad as the man descended the moment his grip loosened.
He reached up and two hands caught him. Thor on one side, White Song on the other.
They pulled him up and out of the rip just as they began to curl together, weaving Creation back. Tony couldn’t see the spiders, but he knew Iron Dust could. Leaning back against Thor’s chest, Tony chuckled.
Then he giggled.
He pulled his helmet off and commanded the gauntlets to retreat. He caught Iron Dust’s gaze again. “He called you Skywalker.”
Iron Dust tilted his head one way, and Hawkeye tilted his the other, both in confusion. Tony pointed. “He’s a Jedi!” Then he collapsed into a mad fit of giggles. “I still hate magic.”
White Song shoved him none too gently and stood. “You’re a creature blessed with holy magic,” she said in English, her accent very different than Iron Dust’s.
“What the hell’s going on,” Hawkeye said, standing. He took Black Widow’s weight away from Iron Dust and unsubtly put himself between them.
Tony finally sat under his own power, pulling away from Thor. “Well, it all started when The Hour at Hand came to me last week.”
