Marvel: Ned the Master of Mystic Arts

"Kid, how's Iron Man doing?"

After bringing the wounded Hawkeye back to Harry's warehouse alongside Black Widow, Stark carried the hospital-bought stretcher with her, his voice laced with concern.

"It might not be charging properly."

Thud!

Hearing this, Stark immediately collapsed onto the floor. Naturally, Hawkeye tumbled off the stretcher as well. Whether his injuries worsened was unclear—he was wrapped up like a mummy anyway.

"Hey! Stark!"

Black Widow rushed to prop up Hawkeye before effortlessly carrying him to the couch. She then turned to Stark with a questioning gaze. "What's going on?"

"Mr. Stark!"

Harry gasped, rushing to Stark's side, supporting his arm. "Are you okay, Mr. Stark?"

"Uh… sir, the suit is technically charging, but there seems to be an issue with the power source. It might not be enough to restore Mark 42's functionality," Jarvis chimed in.

"What's wrong with the power source? Damn it… it's my suit. I can't… I won't… I don't want… huff… huff…"

Stark's breathing became erratic, his voice panicked.

"Oh no, not again."

Anxiety attack—Tony Stark knew this feeling all too well.

"Tony?"

Even Harry abandoned his usual formality. "You're having another episode? I haven't even mentioned New York yet!"

"No, you did… the moment you denied it."

Stubborn as ever, Stark clutched his chest while refuting him.

"Alright, alright…"

"Another episode? What do you mean 'another'?"

Black Widow frowned in confusion. If Stark didn't die at the hands of the Winter Soldier but keeled over from a panic attack instead, her mission failure would be absolutely ridiculous.

"Tony, deep breaths. Breathe in, breathe out."

Harry gripped Stark's arm firmly. "You're an engineer, aren't you?"

"…Yeah?"

"Then why aren't you building something?"

Huff… huff…

Stark's breathing slowly steadied. He glanced at Harry, nodding. "Alright… thanks, kid."

His anxiety seemed to subside.

But still…

He turned toward Black Widow, knowing full well that the elite spy must have access to powerful weapons. Why should he waste time crafting makeshift gadgets when he could simply acquire something much more lethal?

"Anxiety attacks?"

Black Widow finally grasped the situation. "Unbelievable. The great Iron Man… suffers from anxiety attacks?"

"Agent Romanoff, if you don't want me reporting this to your superiors, I suggest you take this secret to your grave."

Stark examined his armor once more, making final adjustments before turning to her. "Let's go."

"Alright."

Black Widow nodded. Together, they left for Miami.

—

Not long after, Hydra's local commander received intel. He glanced at the Winter Soldier, who, thanks to advanced technology and his own superhuman recovery, had almost completely healed.

"Go," the commander ordered. "Your weapons are ready. I've also assigned you a strike team. Stark is headed for Miami."

Without a word, the Winter Soldier stood and walked out, his entire presence exuding a murderous aura. This time, however, he was more cautious—his combat suit, mask, and visor had been reinforced for maximum durability.

"Send a squad to eliminate that brat as well."

The Hydra commander's eyes glinted with malice. "Anyone who dares oppose us… must die."

"Yes, sir."

—

Days passed, and Ned was finally able to walk again. Watching the news about Stark's disappearance, he noticed Wanda's satisfied expression. After some thought, he retrieved his phone (courtesy of Mordo) and dialed a number.

"Hello, sir."

Jarvis's voice came through the line. Ned walked further away so Wanda wouldn't hear him. "Jarvis, it's Ned. Where's Stark?"

"Hello, Mr. Leeds. Mr. Stark and Agent Romanoff are en route to Miami. He left a message for you: Get there as soon as possible."

"Natalia?"

Ned was stunned. "Why is Stark teaming up with Natasha? It's just the Mandarin. Does the entire Avengers team really need to mobilize?"

"Half the Avengers are already involved. Agent Barton was critically injured, and Mr. Stark's team was ambushed by an unknown assassin."

"Barton's injured?!"

Ned felt uneasy. The plot was shifting in unpredictable ways.

He wasn't battle-ready just yet, but he needed to act.

After hanging up, he dialed another number.

—

Screech!

Thud thud thud thud!

A series of noises jolted Harry awake. Peering through the door gap, he saw four armed men in black exiting a car. His heart pounded.

"What do we do now?" he asked the Iron Man suit.

Jarvis, ever vigilant, sent electrical surges from the suit's fingers, repeatedly shocking the unconscious Hawkeye lying beside it.

Zap!

After several jolts, Hawkeye gasped awake.

"Agent Barton, I am Jarvis, Mr. Stark's AI. Mr. Stark and Agent Romanoff have left for Miami. We are under attack. Please react accordingly."

Without hesitation, Hawkeye ripped off the bandages impairing his vision. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he reached for his bow.

Thud!

Trying to stand, he staggered, nearly collapsing again.

Huff… huff…

Taking deep breaths, he steadied himself before rolling toward the door. Shaking his head to clear the dizziness, he peeked through the crack.

Four men, all carrying handguns, advanced in formation.

Despite his trembling arm, Hawkeye drew an arrow and aimed at the leading Hydra agent.

Whoosh!

He fired prematurely—his strength failed at the last moment.

Thwack!

The arrow pierced the lead agent's shoulder, sending him crashing down with a pained scream.

"Guillem?!"

The other Hydra operatives shouted in alarm, raising their guns. A storm of bullets tore through the warehouse door.

Rat-tat-tat-tat!

Wood splintered, leaving the door riddled with holes.

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