( 3rd POV )
The Shadow Border came to a halt beneath the jagged crest of a dune, its engine whispering into silence as the last breath of the sandstorm swept past. The desert was calm now, the sun bleeding orange across the horizon like a slow-burning ember.
Ahead, nestled in the crook of a weather-worn hill, was the Ten Rings' camps, where they held the last Stark alive in the planet. Crates, sandbags, and charred barrel fires marked the perimeter. Men moved lazily between cover, rifles slung, silhouettes silhouetted against the last light of day.
From the open ramp of the Shadow Border, Hassan of the Hundred Faces stood as still as death itself. Shrouded in desert-wrapped cloth, she blended into the dying light. Her eyes locked on the cave entrance ahead. Her Presence Concealment pulsed to life—an aura of nothingness swallowing her form.
"Mission start," she murmured, voice light as wind. And then she vanished.
Not just simply disappeared—Hassan dissolved into the air. One heartbeat she was there, the next, she was gone. The only thing that remained was the whisper of a breeze in the desert.
Hassan flowed through the dunes like a specter. Her senses sharpened, focusing on the rhythms of breath, the clatter of weapons, the careless muttering of men unaware they stood on the precipice of death. Her eyes glowed faintly under her mask.
"Zabaniya."
A hundred shadows erupted from her, spectral echoes of her form darting in every direction. Each one bore her face—each one wielded her killing intent. They moved with unnatural speed, phasing through barricades, emerging from tent flaps, soaring across dunes.
One of the soldiers outside, patrolling the camp parameter, suddenly shivered. He looks around for a few times before murmuring to another guard beside him. "Did you feel that?"
"What?" The other guard replied, feeling puzzled by his weird question.
"I don't know, I feels cold all of the sudden," The first guard answers, while touching the back of his neck. "Maybe it just the winds or something..."
His companion just rolled his eyes, dismissing his partner word. But what they didn't realize is that their life had entered the countdown.
The scene starts as the first guard leaned against a rusted container, fiddling with his lighter. Hassan emerged behind him like a mirage. Before the tiny flame even kissed the cigarette, a glint of steel flashed—her blade carving a seamless line across his throat.
"Gughk..."
"One down..."
Blood bubbled out, hot and silent. She caught him with one hand, gently laying his body against the sand. A prayer whispered in his native tongue followed.
Two more patrolled around a broken Humvee, casually exchanging stories. From the shadow of a half-collapsed barricade, another one of Hassan shadows readied two kunai. She inhaled. Time slowed. The blades shot forth, spinning once—twice—and embedded themselves into their skulls. They collapsed in tandem, the desert wind masking their fall.
Inside the perimeter now, Hassan slithered past watchtowers and collapsed tents. Another sentry patrolled near the cave's metal door, glancing at a crude map. She dropped behind him like falling dust, a garrote flashing in the dim firelight. A twist. A jerk. His body convulsed once before he joined the rest.
Further in, she came upon a cluster of soldiers lounging near a fire. Laughing. Gambling. Hassan circled wide, taking her time. She weaved through tents, timing her steps to match the gusts of wind.
As her numerous shadows arrived behind each person back, they didn't hesitate to take their action all at the same time. When she struck, it was with the fury of silence.
The first man's throat bloomed red as her dagger slid through. His companion choked on a scream as her fingers snapped his neck backward. The third turned, mouth open—but a poisoned needle bit into his neck, and he crumpled, twitching.
Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen...
Some impaled. Others slit throats. One dropped from above, crushing a man's windpipe with a spinning heel.
It was not a battle... It was simply a massacre.
These soldiers had no opportunity to resist at all, let alone to alert one another. There was no fight, no struggle, no gun had been fire, nothing at all.
Back at the Shadow Border, Da Vinci's glowing map flickered. One by one, the red heat signatures blinked out.
Mash leaned forward, her expression a mix of shock and quiet admiration. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, "...All of them?"
Da Vinci, who had been analyzing the aftermath with a keen eye, met Mash's gaze and nodded, her own expression unreadable. "Fifty-three warm bodies. Zero remain. Not one raised an alarm."
The sheer power of a single Servant annihilating an entire army of terrorists without making a sound is truly remarkable. A magnificent feat befitting an Assassin-class Servant.
"Sasuga from one of the Hashashin. They always finished they work perfectly." Ushiwakamaru crossed her arms, watching the report unfold with an appreciative nod.
Having finished her job without any issue whatsoever, Hassan wasted no time in reaching out to her Master. Using their telepathic connection, she delivered her report "Ken-sama, it's all clear. We can proceed with the mission."
On the other side, Ken received the message with a knowing chuckle, a small smile tugging at his lips. Hassan's efficiency was never in question, and as expected, she had handled the situation flawlessly.
With the groundwork now complete, it was their turn to move forward. "Hassan has finished the cleaning. Now, it's our time to meet this world's protagonist," he announced, glancing at his companions, Ken nodded firmly. "Let's go, Mash, Mordred."
.....
Back to present...
After Ken, Mash, and Mordred blast their way into Tony's jail and explain their purpose of rescuing them while carefully avoiding any mention of Hassan's assassination or revealing any secrets about Chaldea, both Tony and Yinsen agree to go with them, though they remain cautious and wary of their intentions.
Despite their lingering suspicion, Tony ultimately chose to place his trust in the group of teenagers in front of him, based on how they had managed the situation in New York rampage, proving they are somehow trustworthy.
Yinsen, however, had a different perspective. Unlike Tony, he had been imprisoned far longer and had no knowledge of Chaldea's existence or its operations.
In the end, his only choice was to rely on Stark's judgment. If Tony believed in them, then Yinsen had little reason to object. Tony also shared his limited knowledge about them to Yinsen. With limited options, Yinsen silently resolved to follow their lead, leaving the cave behind.
The trip back through the cave felt longer than it should have, even though it was shorter without the fear of a guard catching them. But the corridor had changed. It was no longer a mere prison camp—it's more like a tomb.
Their path was littered with death.
The bodies of Ten Rings soldiers were sprawled in unnatural postures, twisted at the neck, or slumped forward with weapons still in their hands. Some had expressions frozen in shock; others had no expressions left at all. Blood stained the dirt floors in thin, neat pools.
As Ken led the group out, Tony kept pace in silence for a while, his earlier snark fading into a dry, rattling breath. He tried not to look, but the images burned into his mind anyway. One soldier leaned face-first against the wall, a perfect slit across his throat. Another was sprawled in a pool of dark crimson, kunai embedded in his spine.
"Jesus," he muttered. "I didn't think this many of them were even here."
Yinsen's face was pale, his mouth drawn tight. "So quiet… They didn't even scream."
"Are kids these days this capable...?" Tony muttered while glancing at Ken's direction, trying to process the sheer volume of death. "I didn't even hear gunfire. Or alarms."
"Someone had to clean the path." As if noticing Tony's gaze, Ken calmly answered while he walked ahead. "You're welcome, by the way."
Tony snorted, though his gaze remained on the crimson-streaked floor. "What, one of you armored types snuck in and did all this? Because, hate to say it, but subtlety doesn't really seem like your guys forte."
Remembering the colossal light saber that Mordred unleash back in New York, Tony senses that something is amiss. He looks around, attempting to find evidence to confirm his suspicion, but unfortunately for him, the perpetrator of this massacre has retreated back to the Shadow Border, utilizing her Presence Concealment after finishing her task.
"That's rich coming from the guy who got blasted by his own weapon." Mordred rolled her eyes while she was dragging the hulking, incomplete Mark I armor behind her like a sack of junk. "Not much of a genius, aren't ya?"
Without letting Tony's to replied, Mordred continue. "And seriously, what is this thing? Did you build it out of a tank or something? It's so ugly. My back's gonna file a complaint." Mordred groaned.
Feeling cornered, Tony instinctively turned defensive, "Hey! That 'thing' was going to be my ride out of here. Not all of us have magical swords and some medieval fashion sense."
"It weighs more than Mash's shield," Mordred grunted, as she eyed the suit with open disdain. "And at least her stuff doesn't smell like burnt gasoline and panic."
Mash looked mildly embarrassed. "Mordred-san..."
Tony glanced back at the lion cub, lips twitching despite the nausea coiling in his stomach. "You know, for a knight, you've got a real mouth on you."
"Yeah? For a billionaire genius, you've got garbage taste in armor."
"Ahaha, my apologies, Mr. Stark, Mordred-san is just messing around." Mash gave a nervous chuckle, attempting to ease the tension while subtly motioning for Mordred to cut it out. Mordred sighed dramatically but begrudgingly complied with her request.
Yinsen, watching the exchange unfold with a bewildered expression, also quickly stepped in before things escalated. He tugged Tony back with a firm grip, his gaze flickering between his companion and the armored knight behind them.
"Tony, are you absolutely certain they're as you described?" he asked, voice filled with skepticism. "I find it hard to believe that she is the Mordred from Arthurian legend. And, please, could you maybe stop provoking her?" He slowly whispers.
"What? You didn't believe me?" Tony huffed but didn't pull away, "I did not believe it either, but that is what they said."
Ken ignored the banter. His eyes scanned every corner as they proceeded through the cave corridor. He could hear Tony and Yinsen whispering behind him, tone hushed and full of suspicion.
Occasionally, Ken also observes this world's Tony Stark, whose appearance differs slightly from his MCU counterpart. This version possesses only sixty percent similarity to RDJ's portrayal. Despite his dire and poor condition, his aura and arrogance just hit differently.
It honestly gives him quite a headache. Especially the moniker his system gives him, The Superior Ironman. He had been deeply contemplating whether he should eliminate him later or not.
'Sigh, what a drag...' Ken sighed, as he finding himself growing increasingly paranoia the longer he lived in this new reality. Even his Mystic Eyes throb with pain sometimes.
When they stepped out into the open desert, the air hit them like a balm. Crisp and clean, tinged with smoke and the last breaths of daylight. The sands rolled endlessly in all directions, golden ridges casting long shadows beneath the sinking sun.
And there it was—the Shadow Border.
To Tony, it looked like someone had parked a futuristic time-traveling behemoth in the middle of a history documentary.
Tony stared in awe, marveling at the magnificent piece of machinery. In his heart he believed that all of Chaldea's magic tricks were now entirely derived from some kind of technology.
"Oh, yeah. This definitely confirms I'm dead. Or drugged. Probably both."
Just look at it, if not for the unappropriated time and place, he would eagerly dismantle the ride in front of him, uncovering its secrets.
Besides him, Yinsen's mouth fell open slightly. "...What is that?"
"Your taxi," Ken turned around with a grin to observe their reaction, "And please stop staring it with your lecherous eyes, Mr. Stark."
Ignoring everyone around him, Tony approached the Shadow Border slowly. The peculiar hum emitted and the subtle aura it exuded made him acknowledge that this was technology far beyond Earth's current level.
He glanced at Ken. "So, where exactly are you people from?" He finally asked the question that had always been on his mind.
However, rather than getting the answer he wanted, Ken gave him a mysterious smile instead. "You know, curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Stark." Ken turned around before entering the Shadow Border with Mash following behind him.
Mordred drop the suit on the ground before approaching with a grin, arms crossed as she admired their stunned looks. "Welcome to the future, bumpkins, hehe."
.....
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A/N: Give me the stones, comments and reviews, I appreciate it. Thanks!