Ronan's consciousness quickly pulled away from this dark expanse of space.
Unlike the upward sensation he'd felt before, this time, he experienced an incredibly rapid descent.
It was like that drop tower ride Ronan had tried in his past life—first the ascent, then the plunge.
Of course, whether it was the speed of the rise or the fall, it was way faster than any drop tower.
In the blink of an eye, the beach where he'd fought earlier reappeared in Ronan's vision.
Tony Stark lay flat on the ground, stiff as a board, while beside him, his soul kept pawing at his own body.
As if he could somehow force his soul back into his flesh through sheer willpower.
Sadly, all he could do was watch helplessly as his hands passed through his body, over and over again.
Nearby, Steve Rogers was just as powerless.
The one who could fix this mess, Ronan, had been standing still for at least half a minute.
No matter how much Steve called out, Ronan didn't respond.
If it weren't for Ronan's vitals being normal—his breathing steady as a rock—Steve Rogers might've already called for a Quinjet med evac.
"F*ck!"
"Steve, what the hell did you do?"
"Why'd my soul get punched out of my body?"
After yet another failed attempt at "soul re-entry," Tony Stark finally lost it and turned to Steve Rogers.
His memory was crystal clear: this whole mess was because Steve Rogers had pounded him into this state, one fist at a time.
Those vicious punches felt like they were aimed at some Thanos-level nemesis.
"I was just throwing normal punches."
"If I had that kind of power, you'd have been like this the last time we scrapped."
Steve Rogers smirked, clearly annoyed that Tony was trying to pin the blame on him.
What had he done wrong, exactly?
All he'd done was give Tony Stark a full-on, no-holds-barred Captain America beatdown.
As for the soul-leaving-body thing?
How was that *his* fault?
"Shut it, both of you—do you seriously plan to bicker like this till dawn?"
At that moment, Ronan, who'd been silent for nearly a minute, finally spoke up.
Seeing Ronan pipe up, Tony Stark couldn't help but roll his eyes.
If he had to guess, the real mastermind behind this was standing right in front of him—Ronan!
"Don't give me that look."
"If Steve hadn't knocked your soul out earlier, it'd have been sucked into me like Dormammu's essence."
"Then you'd have a 99.5% chance of dropping dead on the spot."
Ronan rolled his eyes right back.
This whole mess was Tony Stark's doing—did he really have the nerve to judge anyone else?
"And the other 0.5%?"
No one expected Tony Stark to zero in on such an odd detail.
He actually asked that question.
"That's the chance you'd mutate into some kind of evil demon."
"But don't worry—if you turned into a monster, I'd make sure to leave you a complete corpse."
Ronan shot him a glance. Clearly, Tony Stark had no idea what fear was.
In his current state, it wouldn't even take long—just a few hours.
Once Ronan's magic faded completely, Tony Stark's body would die on the spot.
Even if his soul managed to return afterward, he'd only get to watch his body rot away before saying goodbye to the world.
"Alright, fine, I'll admit I screwed up a little."
"So, do I still have a shot at fixing this?"
Tony Stark glanced at Ronan, still too stubborn to apologize outright.
Even though his words were basically a full surrender.
"Forget it. No saving you. Just wait to die."
"At this rate, you'll probably get to watch your own body decay firsthand."
"Then, because the living world rejects soul forms, you'll start forgetting bits of your memory. Eventually, you'll forget you even exist."
"Those ghost stories from legend? That's your future."
Seeing Tony Stark still playing tough, Ronan started spouting nonsense off the cuff.
Anyway, out of the three of them, he was the only one who knew what was really going on.
He could say whatever he wanted—Steve Rogers and Tony Stark would just have to buy it!
"F*ck!"
"Tell me you're messing with me, right?"
"How could I possibly end up like that?"
Tony Stark let loose another curse.
Honestly, getting Tony Stark to swear wasn't an easy feat.
You could even say that since turning over a new leaf, every dirty word Tony had uttered was dedicated to Ronan.
"No, you're definitely lying."
"You told me before that I'd have a daughter in the future."
"If I die, my daughter won't even be born."
"So that whole spiel you just gave me? Total bull!"
Tony Stark suddenly acted like he'd found some golden evidence, staring at Ronan with wild excitement.
Right now, he looked like a drowning man clawing for a rope.
But the regret and apology plastered across Ronan's face made Tony's heart sink.
"Sorry, Tony."
"With your smarts, you know what the butterfly effect is, right?"
"A person's future isn't set in stone—especially not after they make different choices."
"You hid a Dormammu-level threat from me, then let him hijack your body and inject you with that Lizard Serum."
"From that moment, your future took a nosedive."
"If Pepper hadn't tipped us off in time, I'd estimate three days—tops—before you became his vessel on Earth."
Ronan eyed Tony Stark, deciding it was time to make him learn this lesson.
That speech earlier? It wasn't just hot air.
Why did Dormammu want Tony Stark to take the Lizard Serum? Because a stronger body could handle more of his dark energy.
And if Dormammu fully descended to Earth, this world would be in some *Infinity War*-level danger.
Of course, the "descent" Ronan was talking about wasn't quite the same as what was happening now.
Let's just say that dark energy carried a piece of Dormammu's consciousness—one that was slowly corrupting Tony Stark.
That consciousness had one mission: summon Dormammu from the Dark Dimension to Earth.
When that happened, things wouldn't be as simple as they were now.
"Then—then I—"
By now, Tony Stark was genuinely freaked out by Ronan's words.
He never imagined that what he saw as a minor "I'll tough it out" move would spiral into *this*.
This was nothing like what he'd pictured!
"I'll admit, the fact that Dormammu's dark energy got into your mind in the first place was my fault."
"But after I pulled back my mark, I told you—"
"If anything weird happens, you need to tell me right away."
"Clearly, you didn't take that to heart."
Ronan kept hammering away at the flustered Tony Stark.
Was Tony Stark smart?
Hell yeah, he was!
With his brain and skills, he could solve most of Earth's problems.
No matter the danger, he always found a way out, some genius fix.
He could even use tech to whip up an Infinity Gauntlet.
And the scariest part? That thing could actually *snap*!
But all that was within the realm of science.
Magic? That's always been the opposite of science.
Some say the end of science might just be mysticism.
Whether that's true or not doesn't matter.
Even if it is, Tony Stark's nowhere near that so-called "end of science" yet.
"So, am I… completely screwed now?"
Tony Stark stared at his hands. At that moment, he seemed to calm down.
No—more like he'd accepted his fate.
Ronan's earlier words felt like a death sentence.
All the luck he'd been clinging to shattered into bubbles and burst.
He'd thought he could take on this "Dark Lord" wannabe by himself.
But now? He realized he'd been dead wrong.
Seeing Tony's expression, Ronan mentally gave himself a thumbs-up.
At least now, Tony Stark was starting to see his mistake.
In Ronan's past life, Tony always found a way to fix things, no matter the odds.
Even his years-long anxiety got cured by a kid mocking him a few times.
But that was just the movies.
The Tony Stark standing in front of Ronan now was a real, living person.
He wasn't some cinematic character—no plot armor here.
"Alright, no point hiding it anymore."
"I've actually got a way."
Ronan fought the urge to smirk, putting on a hesitant look.
This acting? Way better than those Spring Festival pretty boys.
"What way?"
Hearing this, Tony Stark lit up with hope.
Like he'd really grabbed that lifeline, he tried to clutch Ronan's arm—but his hands passed right through again.
"Don't get too excited."
"My method can get your soul back in your body."
"But it comes with a price."
Ronan's face turned serious. He was about to drop a mild Vibranium-grade leash on Tony Stark.
It wasn't anything huge—just making sure Tony didn't pull a stunt like this again.
"Name it. As long as I can handle it!"
Tony Stark took a deep breath.
Right now, he seemed ready to hear the worst of the worst.
Like maybe he'd never have kids, or he'd go impotent, or lose some other function.
He'd heard about people whose bodies degraded after being numb too long—even if they recovered, things didn't work the same.
And right now, he felt a lot like those cases.
"I can use my magic to seal your soul back in your body and get it running normally."
"But if you run into something like this again, *do not* mess with it."
"Because in the mage world, there's a well-known rule."
"Magic messes with magic."
"If you tangle with this stuff and some unknown spell interferes with mine, your soul will pop out again."
"And if that happens—even if I, uh, rush over fast—it'll be too late to save you."
Ronan gave Tony Stark a dead-serious look.
He'd almost said, "Even if the Allfather showed up, you'd be toast," but thought better of it.
Especially after everything that just went down, some things were better left unthought and unsaid.
"That's it?"
After Ronan paused for a good ten seconds, Tony Stark finally looked up.
You could see the uncontainable excitement breaking across his face.
"Don't get cocky."
"Underestimating magic will bring you endless grief."
Ronan shot down Tony's enthusiasm again.
Hearing that, Tony Stark took a deep breath, the excitement fading from his face.
"I got it. I'll keep that burned in my brain forever."
"Till I'm old and gray!"
In that moment, Tony Stark made the most heartfelt vow of his life.
As heartfelt as when he told Pepper Potts, "I love you!"
Seeing him like this, Ronan's lips twitched upward, but he quickly hid it.
"Good. Now close your eyes—I'm about to cast the spell."
"Listen up: don't speak or move until you *feel* your body."
"Mess it up, and don't blame me if the spell fails."
Ronan struck the classic Kamar-Taj hand pose.
Tony Stark snapped his eyes shut, hands pressed flat against his thighs. Ronan could even see them trembling with nerves.
If this weren't a soul form but a real body, Ronan might've caught Tony's face turning beet red from holding it together.
At that sight, Ronan nearly lost it laughing.
Good thing Steve Rogers was there, or he'd have whipped out his phone and snapped a pic of Tony.
But to keep his cool, Ronan held back.
He waved his hands around in the air a couple times, threw some random hand signs he didn't even recognize, then shoved both palms forward.
Tony Stark's soul form went flying backward—straight toward his body.
Next second, it zipped right inside.
And the "red-faced Tony" Ronan had been waiting for showed up a few seconds later.
Even with his soul back in place, Tony Stark didn't dare move a muscle.
Seeing him like that, Ronan had to take a few deep breaths to keep his composure.
No laughing. No laughing.
"Alright, you can get up now."
While mentally coaching himself, Ronan called Tony back to action.
Hearing Ronan's voice, Tony Stark cracked one eye open cautiously, sneaking a peek around.
Same sky. Same sound of waves crashing nearby.
Then he wiggled a finger experimentally.
Huh?
It moved?
No, wait!
His soul form could move fingers too!
Realizing that, Tony subtly shifted his right hand and poked his thigh.
Yep, that's his body!
But before he could celebrate too much, Ronan's voice cut through again.
"Might've been a slight hiccup with my spell."
"Steve, go knock his soul out again—I'll recast it."
Seeing Tony so on edge, Ronan couldn't resist messing with him.
And Steve Rogers, ever the team player, took two steps forward, even stomping loud for effect.
At that, Tony Stark bolted up from the beach.
If Steve Rogers got another few punches in, his life would be—
Hiss.
Tony sucked in a sharp breath.
Pain. So much pain!
His face, his body—every part was screaming with varying degrees of agony.
That was Steve Rogers' "rescue" violence at work.
"Steve, you hit too damn hard!"
"But since you saved me, I'll let the medical bill slide."
Tony clutched his right cheek and ribs—those spots took the worst of it.
Ronan just rolled his eyes.
Classic Tony Stark.
Back to his old self the second he's up.
"If I were a certain someone, the first thing I'd do is head home and check in."
"For all you know, Pepper Potts is already planning your funeral."
Ronan whistled, tossing Tony a little nudge.
If he didn't want to show up at his own funeral in a few days, his best move was to hightail it home!
At that, Tony Stark froze, but he caught on quick.
Pepper Potts *would* do something like that!
With that thought, Tony didn't hesitate. He threw out his right hand toward the Iron Man suit parked nearby.
The suit, sensing his call, started assembling piece by piece around his body.
Seconds later, the one and only Iron Man was back in action.
"See ya, boys—next time we meet, I'll treat you right!"
With that parting shot, Tony blasted off with a trail of fire, vanishing from their sight.
Watching Tony's exit point, Ronan shook his head.
That's Tony Stark for you.
Even after all this, he's gotta flex.
Slap!
Just then, Steve Rogers clapped a hand on Ronan's shoulder.
"Earlier… you were bluffing, weren't you?"
Steve's voice came through.
Ronan raised an eyebrow, surprised. He had no idea how Steve figured it out.
Was it the sneaky smirk he couldn't quite hide?
Or—
"No, you don't have to answer."
"All I've got to say about what you did is—"
"Damn fine work!"