"The magic seal on the pencil has been triggered," Kurogai muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Stark's in trouble already?"

It caught him off guard. According to the timeline, this shouldn't have happened yet. Still, a promise was a promise. He had given his word to Tony Stark, and regardless of how early the event came, he wasn't going to break it.

And knowing Stark, if he'd broken the pencil, he was already prepared to sacrifice one of his suits. Typical.

With that thought, Kurogai decided it was time to move. He had tracked the magical pulse to a specific location and was confident Stark would be there.

Turning to Dr. Banner, who was recovering from their earlier clash, Kurogai spoke calmly.

"The fight's over for now. I have something to take care of. Do you need a ride somewhere? I can send you."

He couldn't just leave Banner in the middle of the desert. That had been the whole point of fighting the Hulk here—remote, isolated, far from civilian life. But with the battle concluded, leaving Banner alone out here meant certain dehydration or starvation. Not that Kurogai particularly cared, but the man wasn't a prisoner. He saw no reason to be cruel.

Of course, that didn't mean he was letting go completely.

Before leaving, Kurogai had discreetly implanted a trace spell on Banner—an anchor, allowing him to return and resume his training against the Hulk when the time was right. His Fifth Eye Ring, Zafkiel, still had room to grow, and the Hulk was the perfect tool for that.

"You're leaving?" Banner asked. "Then send me to Monaco. I've got some business to wrap up there."

Kurogai nodded without hesitation. With a wave of his hand, a shimmering portal opened, its edges crackling with faint violet energy. Banner stepped through it and vanished.

Now alone, Kurogai opened another portal—this one aimed at the source of the magical trigger. He wasn't sure where exactly it would lead, but Stark's location would be close.

He stepped through—and emerged in a bleak, rocky landscape. The area was dry, lifeless. A crude compound stood nearby, more a makeshift camp than a proper base. It looked nothing like any advanced Hydra facility he'd seen before.

"This doesn't match the records. Not exactly canonical either. Must be a deviation," Kurogai murmured to himself, scanning the scene. The pencil's magical resonance was coming from inside.

Without attempting stealth, he walked straight toward the building. Unsurprisingly, armed guards quickly noticed him.

"Stop right there!" one barked from the wall. "Identify yourself and state your purpose!"

Kurogai didn't even break stride.

"Too noisy. Sleep."

His eyes turned a piercing blood-red. Three tomoe spun lazily in each iris. The Sharingan was active.

One by one, the guards collapsed, their weapons clattering against the stone and metal. A few tumbled from the ledges entirely, landing in unconscious heaps.

He had no interest in wasting energy on insignificant NPCs.

One soldier, however, remained upright—barely. Kurogai had left him partially bound in genjutsu, enough to remain functional.

The dazed man stumbled to the entrance, opened the gate, and bowed slightly, robotic in his movements.

"You've done your part. Rest now."

As soon as the gate creaked fully open, the man crumpled into unconsciousness.

Kurogai stepped inside, his pace leisurely, almost tourist-like. Compared to the Hydra bases he'd destroyed in the past, this place was a joke. No defenses, no tech, just sloppily built walls and frightened men with rifles. This wasn't a base—it was a slum with delusions of grandeur.

Following the signal from the enchanted pencil, he made his way toward a narrow tunnel. Two more guards were posted there.

"What are y—"

Before they could finish, they too fell into silent unconsciousness, mid-sentence.

Kurogai kept walking.

At the end of the tunnel stood a rusted iron door. He pushed it open, finding Stark inside—bloodied, pale, with gauze across his chest. A faint, unnatural glow seeped through the layers. The Arc Reactor.

"You actually came," Stark said with a hoarse chuckle, holding the broken pencil in one hand. "For a second, I thought you were full of it."

Kurogai didn't smile.

"So, are you prepared to pay the price?"

His eyes narrowed, scanning the glow beneath Stark's bandages. So this was it—the origin of Iron Man. The event that reshaped Stark into the man he would become. But it had happened earlier than expected. Curious.

"I am," Stark said. "I'll hold up my end of the deal."

A voice to the side cut in, sharp with urgency.

"We don't have time for this! We need to move—now!"

The man was Yinsen, the brilliant scientist Stark had been imprisoned with. Kurogai recognized him from the original timeline. He was pacing nervously, his eyes flicking toward the door.

"The longer we stay here, the worse this gets! Soldiers are probably on their way!"

"No need to worry," Kurogai replied smoothly, glancing at Yinsen. "With me here, you're already safe. No one leaves alive unless I allow it. Now, Stark, I'm curious. How exactly did you get captured this early?"

---

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