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"What's going on with him?"
Natasha asked after Tony left. "He seemed... off."
"Looks like he's caught in a loop," Arthur replied. "But he'll find his way out. I trust him."
Natasha shrugged, looking entirely unconvinced.
Arthur then gestured toward Maya before speaking. "She's your responsibility for now."
"Hey!" Maya's expression shifted. "What are you planning to do with me?"
"Oh, you're quite valuable," Arthur said. "No need to worry. But I don't have time to deal with you right now— I need to track down that actor."
"Leave her to me," Natasha said. "I'll take good care of her."
Arthur smirked. "Care in the traditional sense? Because, you know, she is useful."
Natasha sighed, an odd hint of disappointment in her tone. "Fine."
Maya's face darkened. If Arthur hadn't clarified, she might have expected a much worse fate.
With that settled, Arthur prepared to leave.
Natasha sent him the exact coordinates of the Mandarin via his wrist-mounted StarkTech interface. Arthur mapped the route and uploaded it to his helmet's HUD.
He took to the skies, following the projected path.
Within two hours, he arrived in Miami.
"I'm here. Everything's clear," Arthur reported through comms.
"We're having afternoon tea," Natasha replied. "Try not to take all night."
"Save me something," Arthur glanced at the time. "I won't be long."
"Using the teleportation system?"
"Obviously." Arthur grinned before descending.
Below him was an upscale estate— a known secret facility of A.I.M.
Instead of barging in, he activated a small teleportation node near the entrance before proceeding.
From the outside, the place looked abandoned. But Arthur's Eye of Horus— a modified Stark surveillance enhancement— revealed sentries stationed at every corner.
Storming in wasn't his style. He scanned the area thoroughly, then blinked out of sight.
After two short-range teleports, he was inside.
"A vintage estate..." Arthur muttered, admiring the architecture. "I should get myself a place like this."
Tony's cliffside mansion had always been tempting, and now, seeing this manor, he was reminded of that idea again. "I wonder if Lily would go for it..."
Moving deeper inside, he found a series of elaborate but abandoned film sets and idle security cameras.
It was clear— the infamous 'Mandarin' broadcasts had been filmed here. Arthur had never watched them, but considering they had fooled the world, the production value must have been top-tier.
As he progressed, the sentries vanished. There was no patrols, no movement.
Which was really suspicious.
Ahead, there's a door.
Arthur pushed it open—
And immediately regretted it.
Before him was a massive bed, and on it, a... scene.
A scene he absolutely did not need to see.
Three people. Engaged. Very engaged.
Arthur blinked. Then frowned. Something felt off.
A moment later, his instincts screamed at him.
"This isn't right."
A shroud crept over his mind, warping his perception.
He clenched his fists, sharpening his focus. In an instant, the illusion shattered.
The bed vanished. The people disappeared.
All that remained was an empty room— and a single figure seated in a chair.
He sat motionless, hands resting on his knees. Ten rings gleamed ominously on his fingers. His gaze locked onto Arthur with chilling intensity.
Those eyes...
Arthur's spine tensed. Danger surged from the base of his skull to the tips of his fingers.
This was no actor.
Damn it. This was bad.
Where was the so-called fake?
Would a fraud have eyes like that? That eerie calm? That illusion—so real, so precise?
No doubt about it. The man before him was the real Mandarin.
"Come in."
His voice was smooth yet commanding, carrying an air of authority impossible to ignore.
Arthur sighed, recalling an old saying from the pulp detective novels he enjoyed: 'I shouldn't have come.'
"Since you're here," The Mandarin continued, "let's talk. I've done some interesting things lately, and in return, I seem to have attracted even more interesting people."
He studied Arthur with a faint smirk. "Avoiding my guards and dispelling my illusion so quickly... impressive. I may not be a master of deception, but even so, your skill is remarkable."
Arthur knew the unspoken truth— he wasn't getting out of here easily.
The moment he stepped through that door, any chance of a peaceful resolution had vanished.
Then again, there had never been any chance of that.
Shifting his stance, Arthur strode into the room.
The Mandarin raised a single finger.
A faint wind stirred as a chair slid smoothly into place behind Arthur.
"You've earned the right to sit before me," The Mandarin said.
Arthur crossed his arms. "And here I thought I was already famous."
The Mandarin's smile widened. "I'm not talking about 'Instructor.' I mean your real name."
Arthur shook his head. "Superheroes need some level of privacy. Can't have people like you ruining our lives every day. So no, I won't be giving you my real name. Let's keep this professional."
The Mandarin chuckled. "You're amusing. It's been a long time since I met someone quite like you."
"Maybe you've been asleep too long." Arthur tilted his head. "You know, I woke up from a long nap myself just a few years ago."
The Mandarin's expression flickered. "So the rumors were true. You really are that Instructor from back then."
"I am."
Arthur met his gaze. "What about you? What's your endgame here? Playing the role of a villainous actor for fun?"
The Mandarin's smirk returned. "That boy, Aldrich Killian, interests me. His plan—if successful— could save me a great deal of time."
'(End of Chapter)'