Hela sat cross-legged on a cushioned mat in her magical tent, the glow of her laptop screen illuminating her face. The news was grim: Tony Stark's kidnapping had sent Stark Industries into chaos. The share price plummeted, and the stock market was abuzz with speculation about the company's future. Analysts debated whether Stark Industries could recover without its visionary leader, and many investors sold their shares in panic.
Hela, however, saw an opportunity amidst the chaos. Her mind worked as sharply as ever, calculating the risks and rewards.
"People have no faith," she muttered, sipping tea from a steaming mug. She clicked through financial reports and market trends, her expression thoughtful. "Tony is brilliant, resourceful. He'll get out of this, and when he does, Stark Industries will soar."
As the Legal Head of Stark Industries and a close friend to Tony, Hela felt a dual responsibility—to ensure the company survived this storm and to safeguard Tony's legacy.
Hela contacted her financial advisors through secure, communication channels. These advisors, sworn to secrecy, had managed the some of the wealth she and Harry had accumulated over centuries.
"Buy every share of Stark Industries that goes on the market," she instructed.
"Every share?" one of them asked, incredulous.
"Yes," she said firmly. "No hesitation, no questions. This is not a gamble—it's a certainty. Tony Stark will return, and when he does, he'll revolutionize the world again. I want to ensure that Stark Industries is not only stable but untouchable."
Within hours, Hela had secured a significant portion of the company's shares. By the end of the week, she was the largest individual shareholder of Stark Industries, second only to Tony himself.
With Tony missing, the burden of keeping Stark Industries afloat fell heavily on Hela's shoulders. Despite being in Afghanistan, she conducted meetings through encrypted video calls. Her magical tent's advanced enchantments allowed her to maintain high-speed internet access and shield her location from detection.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Hela said during an emergency board meeting, her voice calm but commanding. "This is not the end of Stark Industries. Tony Stark built this company with his genius, and I assure you, he will return. Until then, we must remain united and focused."
She quickly implemented a plan to stabilize the company:
Reassuring Investors: Hela released carefully worded statements to the press, highlighting Stark Industries' ongoing projects and the strength of its leadership.
Strengthening Leadership: She delegated additional responsibilities to trusted executives, ensuring that no aspect of the company faltered.
Focusing on Innovation: Hela redirected resources toward promising research and development projects, emphasizing that Stark Industries remained at the forefront of technology.
Pepper Potts played a critical role during this time, acting as Hela's on-the-ground ally. Together, they worked tirelessly to manage the fallout.
Despite her heavy workload, Hela never lost sight of her primary mission: keeping Tony safe. She frequently checked on him, watching as he worked tirelessly on his mysterious suit project. Each time she saw him, her conviction grew stronger.
"He's going to do something revolutionary," she told Harry during one of their conversations.
"You don't always see the best in people," Harry replied with a smile. "But in this case, I think you're absolutely right."
Hela's dual responsibilities tested her in ways she hadn't anticipated. By day, she managed one of the world's largest corporations; by night, she honed her magic and monitored Tony's progress.
Hela's efforts began to bear fruit. Stark Industries' share price stabilized, and public confidence slowly returned. The media started reporting on the company's resilience, attributing much of the credit to its "brilliant and enigmatic Legal Head."
"Helena Black is Stark Industries' backbone," one headline read.
Unbothered by the attention, Hela remained focused. She wasn't doing this for recognition—she was doing it for Tony and the future they had envisioned for Stark Industries.
As she sat in her tent, watching the desert sunset, Hela allowed herself a rare moment of satisfaction. She had taken control of a seemingly uncontrollable situation, and Stark Industries was not just surviving—it was poised for an even greater future.
Hela's heart skipped a beat as the sound of rapid gunfire shattered the stillness of the desert night. She rushed to the entrance of the fortress, her instincts screaming danger. The fortress that had remained relatively quiet during Tony's captivity was now alive with chaos. The roar of machine guns echoed through the barren landscape, accompanied by bursts of light from the gunfire.
Without a moment's hesitation, Hela conjured a portal, her magic humming with urgency. She stepped through, emerging at the cave's entrance, cloaked in invisibility. What she saw left her speechless.
A towering metal suit lumbered out of the cave, its bulky frame gleaming in the dim light of the fortress. Machine gunfire rained down on it from all directions, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off its armored exterior. Hela's sharp eyes recognized Tony Stark inside, his face partially visible through a crude opening in the suit's design.
"Tony…" she whispered to herself, equal parts impressed and baffled.
The suit raised one arm, and a torrent of flames erupted from a flamethrower built into its hand. The fire engulfed the soldiers and machinery alike, leaving behind only destruction. The fortress, which had seemed impenetrable just hours ago, was now crumbling under the sheer ferocity of Tony's improvised weapon.
Hela couldn't help but admire the genius and tenacity it took to create such a marvel under duress.
To her astonishment, the suit's back flared with a burst of light and heat. The crude jetpack Tony had built activated, propelling him into the air. The suit wobbled unsteadily but managed to lift off, disappearing into the night sky.
Hela stood frozen, torn between awe and frustration. She hadn't anticipated that Tony would escape in such a spectacular fashion, and now she would have to track him down once more.
"Of course, Stark," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "You couldn't just wait for me to rescue you."
Realizing that staying at the fortress was pointless, Hela returned to her hidden campsite. She dismantled the magical tent with practiced efficiency, shrinking it down into a small enchanted pouch for easy transport.
Reaching into her trunk of enchanted items, she retrieved the wand she had used earlier. Placing it on her palm, she cast the "Point Me" spell once more. The wand spun before settling in a direction slightly east of the fortress.
"Alright, Tony," Hela said, her voice firm with determination. "Let's see where you've landed this time."
She began her journey, her steps brisk and purposeful. The desert stretched endlessly before her, but she pressed on, her mind racing with questions. Where had Tony landed? Was he safe? And most importantly, what would he do next?
Hela knew she had to act quickly. Tony was resourceful, but he was also reckless, and his escape had undoubtedly drawn attention from the terrorists and possibly other dangerous factions in the area. She resolved to find him before anyone else did.
As she traversed the desert, her thoughts drifted to the man who had caused her so much trouble yet earned her unwavering loyalty. Tony Stark was unpredictable, infuriating, and sometimes downright impossible to deal with—but he was also brilliant, courageous, and, against all odds, her friend.
The night was silent once more, save for the crunch of her boots against the sand. Hela's resolve hardened with each step. She would find Tony Stark, no matter what it took.
The desert stretched out in every direction, the heat shimmering in waves under the sun. Hela trudged through the sand, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of Tony. Finally, she spotted it—a dark, twisted mass of metal half-buried in the dunes. It was Tony's suit, battered and smoking from its crash landing.
Hurrying to the wreckage, she found Tony slumped inside the suit, unconscious but alive. The relief that washed over her was short-lived as she assessed the situation. The suit was heavily damaged, and extracting Tony looked like a tedious task.
"Typical Stark," she muttered, shaking her head.
With a flick of her wrist, she tried opening the suit using its mechanisms, but it refused to budge. Patience was not her strong suit, and she was in no mood for delicacy.
Planting her feet firmly in the sand, Hela grabbed the edges of the suit and, with her superior strength, tore it apart like paper. The metal screeched and groaned under the force, but she paid no mind. Within moments, she had Tony free, cradling his unconscious body in her arms.
"You're lucky I'm here, Stark," she said softly, brushing some sand from his face.
Tony stirred slightly but didn't wake. Hela didn't waste any time. She conjured a portal, the shimmering gateway leading near to a U.S. military base in Afghanistan.
As the portal opened and closed unnoticed, soldiers stationed at the base turned in shock. Seeing Tony Stark, battered and being carried by Hela, caused a flurry of movement. Recognizing both figures—Tony as the renowned billionaire and Hela as the enigmatic legal head of Stark Industries—the soldiers rushed forward.
A mix of relief and curiosity filled the air as the soldiers bombarded Hela with questions.
"How did you find him?"
"What happened to Mr. Stark?"
"Did you take out the terrorists?"
Hela held up a hand, silencing the barrage. "Tony rescued himself," she said curtly. "But his ordeal left him unconscious. He needs medical attention immediately."
The soldiers quickly complied, bringing over a stretcher and rushing Tony to the military hospital within the base. Hela followed, her expression unreadable as she ignored further questions.
Tony was whisked away by medics, leaving Hela standing in the hospital corridor. She watched as doctors worked to stabilize him, ensuring that his Arc Reactor—now the only thing keeping him alive—was functioning properly.
A senior officer approached her, clearly eager for an explanation. "Miss Helena, we need to debrief you. How exactly did you manage to get him back?"
Hela turned to him, her eyes cold and firm. "Tony is safe, and that's all that matters. The details are irrelevant."
Her tone brooked no argument, and the officer backed down, muttering an apology.
Once Tony was stabilized, Hela stood by his bedside, her arms crossed. The man who could talk his way out of any situation now lay silent, his face pale but peaceful.
"You really know how to make things difficult, don't you?" she said softly, a rare hint of affection in her voice.
Hela pulled out her phone and contacted Pepper Potts, updating her on Tony's condition. "He's safe now," she assured Pepper. "He's in good hands."
Pepper's voice trembled with relief. "Thank you, Hela. I don't know what we'd do without you."
Hela ended the call and settled into a chair beside Tony's bed. She didn't intend to stay long, but as the minutes turned into hours, she found herself unwilling to leave. For all his arrogance and recklessness, Tony Stark had a way of getting under her skin—and, much to her surprise, she didn't mind it one bit.
She leaned back, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. "Get better soon, Stark. The world isn't ready to lose you yet."
Tony woke up the next morning in the stark white room of the military hospital, his head pounding slightly from exhaustion but otherwise intact. As he stirred, his gaze shifted to Hela, who sat across the room, her arms crossed and an air of nonchalance masking her keen watchfulness.
"You're awake," Hela said simply, rising to her feet.
Tony blinked, the events of the past few days rushing back to him. The cave, the Arc Reactor, the suit—and Yinsen. His heart sank, a heavy wave of grief settling over him.
"Yinsen…" he murmured, his voice hoarse. "He didn't make it."
Hela's expression softened, though she didn't approach him. "I know," she said, her tone uncharacteristically gentle. "He gave his life so you could escape. Don't waste it."
Tony looked away, staring at the ceiling as his emotions churned. He wasn't used to loss—not like this. Yinsen's sacrifice was more than just a fleeting tragedy; it was a catalyst, a moment that would change the trajectory of his life.
Author's Note:
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