Post by Drake on Jun 21, 2013 12:39:40 GMT -5
ALL STAR MARVEL PROUDLY PRESENTS…
“Today is a day unlike any other!” Kang declared, arms out in a messianic position. Facing him in a semi-circle were eight of the most powerful, most terrifying, most dangerous criminals on Earth. The Red Skull, The Mandarin, Devil Hulk, Kraven the Hunter, the Abomination, Moonstone and Doctor Doom, “Today is the day the Avengers will die!”
“It is because of them,” Kang went on, “that my future…our future is destroyed. It is because of them that humanity is dead. It is because of them” Kang spoke this time with the most venom yet, “That Earth’s Mightiest Enemy exists…will exist!”
Kang took a step back and let his words sink in to the villains in front of him. When at last, Kang felt the men and women before him understood the truth and meaning behind his words, he started again.
“And for those of you that are not sure, that do not truly believe me…” Kang’s helmet slipped down his face like liquid. When at last it was gone, all the villains gasped in surprise and awe.
“It…it can not be…” The Mandarin whispered.
“Now you know that I tell no lie. I have experienced these events firsthand.” Kang allowed his helmet to cover his head again.
Kang waited another few seconds, before ending with one last statement, one final declaration.
“For their sins, the Avengers must die.”
#1: A Day Unlike Any Other
“No, please, I need to see Tony Stark!” Hank Pym slammed his fist against the desk in front of him in frustration.
“I’m afraid that is currently impossible, sir. Mr. Stark’s schedule is full today.” The pretty, dark-skinned receptionist replied.
Hank pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself, “Please, just let me through. Tony and I are friends… My name is Hank Pym.”
“Oh, you’re, Hank Pym?” The receptionist leaned forward in her desk, faking earnestness, “You know, it’s odd. Three other people have come to me today claiming they were you, Mr. Pym, and that they wanted to see Mr. Stark.”
“They were obviously imposters!” Pym pointed out, completely oblivious to the woman’s sarcastic response, “They were using my name to get to Tony.”
The woman leaned back in her chair, rested her head against her index finger and thumb, a look of complete disbelief on her face. Pym finally understood what the woman was getting at, “You think I’m an imposter?”
“Mhm,” The woman nodded slowly.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Pym held his head in his hands, “How does she not recognize me? I’m Hank Pym!” Pym muttered to himself.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. If you really want to meet with Mr. Stark, please call and schedule an appointment at a later date,” the receptionist said.
Hank removed his head from his hands, “You see, I can’t. The fate of the world is at stake.”
The receptionist gave Pym an incredulous look, “Sir, if you do not leave now, I will have security personally escort you out.”
“I can’t go,” Pym firmly responded.
The woman locked eyes with Pym, “You have to.” Pym shook his head. The woman began to count down, as if Pym was a child, “3.”
Pym sighed.
“2.”
“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Pym muttered and reached inside his labcoat.
“1.”
“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!” Pym and the receptionist were shaken out of their stand off by a reporter milling through a door farther back in the building. “On a scale of one-to-ten, how would you rate your success as a hero?”
“Mr. Stark! How did you come up with the idea for the Iron Man armor?”
“How tough was it to stop the bank robbery?”
Tony Stark: billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, was being mauled by dozens of reporters. “Please, please, everyone settle down. This isn’t a press conference. I’m just going to eat lunch with a friend.”
“Is this ‘friend’ Kim Kardashian?”
“What? No! Where’d you get that idea?” Tony stopped, and then with a smirk said, “I only slept with her once.” He then continued through the crowd, as the reporters erupted into a bubbling lava of gossip.
“Tony…” Pym shook his head, a slight humorous grin on his face. Before the receptionist could turn back to Hank, he was gone, entering the crowd of reporters.
“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!”
“Mr. Stark!”
“Tony!”
Tony stopped in his tracks and turned to where the voice had come from, “Pym…” And indeed it was Hank Pym calling his name. The lanky scientist struggled through the crowd in an attempt to reach Tony.
“Pym?” Tony addressed him loudly. The reporters quieted and let the scientist through.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark! I tried to get him to leave!” The receptionist called from her desk.
Tony turned to the receptionist, “Get him to leave?” Tony put his arm around Pym’s shoulders, “This man here is my friend!”
Pym groaned as the reporters began to shout questions again. The receptionist just shrunk back in her seat, embarrassed. Quietly, into Pym’s ear, Tony harshly whispered, “The hell do you want, Pym?”
Tony’s fierce tone brought back bad memories for the microbiologist. He turned his head to Tony and whispered, “I know the last time we talked it wasn’t on good terms, but I need to speak with you. Privately.”
“About what? Did Jan dump you and now you’re having a ‘tough time’?” Tony sarcastically responded.
Pym sighed, “Yes,” and before Tony could speak, “But that’s not why I’m here. I don’t want to talk about the past, or our problems. I need to talk to you about the future. About Iron Man.”
Stark thought it over a minute. Should he talk to the man who stole what could have been the love of his life, or should he shun him and embarrass him in front of the cameras and hope to never see him again? A younger Tony Stark would have surely done the latter, but now? After all he’d gone through and lost? Maybe…just maybe he should give Pym a chance.
“Ten minutes.” Stark whispered.
“That’s all I ask.” Pym agreed.
Stark raised his arm, silencing the reporters, “Change of plans, people! No lunch, and certainly no you!”
The reporters wouldn’t give up that easily, but Stark never gave them the chance to fight back. He grabbed Pym’s arm and pulled him quickly back into the door from which he’d come. “VISION, lock the door.” With a click, the door locked.
“VISION?” Pym asked.
Tony nodded, “One of my greatest ideas. And one of my most recent. An AI butler. He’s in everything: the building, my house, my armors. He sees everything. It’s where he got his name.” Stark waited a second to let it sink in, “The Press love him.”
“Nice.” Pym replied, shifting positions on his feet awkwardly, as if he was hiding something.
Stark noticed Pym’s sheepishness, “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Seriously, what is it?” Stark demanded, age-old anger rising to the surface again.
Pym ran a hand through his hair. He realized Stark wasn’t going to let it go, “I…I thought of…well, that’s not entirely true…I created the very same thing years ago: an AI assistant. Name was different, but, well, it worked. Still does. It is…or was in my lab. Helping. Working, even.”
Stark saw where he was going with it, and even more anger rose through the cracks. Immediately, Stark responded, “Yeah? You think of this? VISION, take us up.” The floor shook and began to rise. “Instant elevator anywhere in the building. That’s not even the best part.”
Stark turned to Pym with a cocky smirk on his face, “The building adapts. I took Richards’ unstable molecule technology and improved upon it. The building, Stark Tower, is made of unstable molecules and adapts to meet my every need.”
Feeling the competitive atmosphere, Pym spoke up, “Cool, I guess. If you like architecture. But you want to know something really cool? I found Pym Particles.”
The floor stopped rising, and the wall in front of the two opened up to reveal Tony’s office. Tony raised an eyebrow, giving Pym a questioning glance.
Hank continued, “That’s actually why I’m here.”
Tony stepped into his office. Pym followed. “I’m not going to fund your research.”
“That isn’t why I’m here.” Pym replied, “I need to talk to you about the Particles themselves…and what they showed me.”
Stark did not immediately respond. Instead, he walked to the back of his desk, opened a drawer and drew himself a glass of scotch. He collapsed into a chair, and after realizing Pym was not doing the same, motioned to the opposing chair with his scotch, “Take a seat.”
Pym pulled out the chair and sat down. Stark took a swig of the scotch. The two sat awkwardly for a few seconds before at last Tony spoke up, “Well…?”
Pym flushed, embarrassed, “Sorry, I just expected you to respond.” He composed himself, and then continued, “It turns out I was wrong about the Pym Particles.”
“Big surprise there,” Stark snidely remarked. Pym let it go, “The Particles weren’t of organic origin. As a matter of fact, they weren’t organic at all. But I was right about one thing. These Particles have been around as long as the Universe has. Heck, they may even have been composed of the first atoms.”
Pym waited for Stark to make either another sarcastic response, or one of awe. He didn’t do either. “Go on.”
Pym nodded, “Stark, these particles—my Pym Particles—they’re not organic. They’re not alive. They’re not even dead. They exist on levels of reality so much farther above any we can perceive by our eye alone. Stark…these are tachyon particles. The Pym Particles…”
”They’re a gateway into time.”
Stark nearly dropped his glass of scotch, any humor in his tone or mind gone. “What proof do you have?”
Pym sat back in the chair, forcing himself to relax, “The proof…that’s why I’m here. When I saw the Pym Particles, I think…I think I saw the future. Or one version of it.”
Tony Stark broke into a hysterical fit of laughter, “Hahaha! Tha-That’s why you’re here? Because you ‘saw something’? Py-Pym, tell me this is a joke.”
“I’m not joking, Tony. I never joke about work.”
Stark let out one final chuckle and then fell silent again. He looked into Pym’s eyes. The man was serious, completely so, “Pym, you’re clearly exhausted. You must not have been getting enough sleep. The insomnia must have caused you to hallucinate.”
Pym shook his head, “I know what I saw, Stark.”
Stark set down his glass of scotch, “Where’s Brian? Why isn’t he here to back you up?”
Pym’s expression suddenly transformed. Its once serious demeanor changed to a much sadder, darker tone. “Brian…the Particles changed Brian. They changed me as well.”
“What does that mean?” Stark asked, raising an eyebrow.
Pym sighed, and stood up. He pulled his dirty lab coat off and laid it neatly on the chair behind him. “Our…reactions to the Particles were vastly different. Brian’s was explosive…dark. Mine…well, mine were much more subtle. And easier to control.”
And suddenly, in the blink of an eye, Pym was gone. Stark stood from his chair and looked all around the room, unable to find the microbiologist, “Pym? PYM?”
”I’m right here!”
Tony looked down. Hank Pym stood in a spandex red and black uniform on the chair he had once sat, so small Tony could only see him if he focused intensely on him. “Pym…my God! You can shrink!”
Suddenly, Pym began to grow. And grow. And he grew till he was over two feet taller than Stark, a big difference to the billionaire who usually stood nearly half a head above him. “And grow,” Pym stated the obvious.
“Only a couple of feet?” Tony asked.
“No,” Pym chuckled, “Much, much more. I just didn’t want to break anything.”
Stark motioned to the red costume on Pym, “And the suit?”
“Unstable molecules. My own design.” Pym answered.
“Wow,” Tony sat back down in his chair, the surprise having taken a toll on him, “You…you have superpowers.” After a few brief moments, “What happened to Brian?”
Pym looked hurt again, “He…he changed over time. Became greedy. He wanted to steal the discovery and use it for himself. His transformation…reflected his new outlook on life.”
Tony decided to not push the topic further, instead choosing to get back to the important topic at hand, “Well, Pym, the powers are a big surprise, but they aren’t enough to prove anything about you seeing the future.”
“What do I have to do to convince you to believe me…and to help?” Pym asked.
“Wait…help? Help with what?”
“Saving the world.”
“What?” Stark exclaimed.
Pym explained, “The vision I saw…it was of you—or rather, Iron Man—battling with me and a few other people against a group…a group of bad guys. Really scary, really powerful bad guys.”
Stark looked intrigued, “Who was fighting with us?”
Pym stopped, and appeared to think over his next words carefully. “I know this might sound crazy…but…but it looked like Captain America was fighting with us.”
“And why is that crazy?” Stark nonchalantly asked.
Pym gave him a confused look, “Captain America’s been MIA for seventy years.”
Stark grinned, “Man, you really must live under a rock, Pym.”
“Why is that?” Pym inquired.
“The big blue boy scout—Captain America—he’s back.”
A
Captain America leaped from the top of the tank as it exploded behind him. The force of the explosion tripled the length of Cap’s jump, and caused the star spangled sentinel to have to make a barrel roll to keep his balance. As soon as he was back on his feet, Captain America held up his shield, blocking an onslaught of high-powered rounds coming his way.
The American hero was currently engaged with an “offshoot” of Hydra in Albany, New York. The group itself claimed to be a subgroup of Hydra, but Cap knew otherwise. This “Hydra” was made up of dozens of untrained, pro-anarchy, depressed kids between the ages of 17 and 25. They were, however, very well armed. Captain America intended to get to the bottom of just how they had gotten their weapons.
Cap threw his shield, boomeranging it across four of his post-teenaged assailants and back into his arms. These kids…who would do such a sick thing as to strengthen theirs fears and anger and give them a means of which to focus their negative feelings on the people around them? What sick-minded individual would use kids to do their dirty work?
Captain America rolled away from more incoming fire, knocking out one of the terrorists with his shield on the way. Cap thought back to seventy years ago, what seemed like only a few weeks ago to him. More specifically, Cap thought about Bucky. Was it cruel of him to let a teenager fight alongside him? Was what Bucky had been forced to do, what had surely caused a complete and total loss of innocence, was that the same as what Cap faced now? The results had surely been…negative. On that last fateful in the 40’s, Bucky had saved Cap’s life. And on that day, Bucky had died. Was that the fate of all of these children? Was their being brought into this eternal war a death sentence?
Captain America engaged a group of the armed teenagers/post-teens. He ducked under the butt of one of their guns and hit that teen in the head with his shield, instantly knocking him out. He swiftly kicked another to his left, and knocked another out with a swift punch to the stomach. There were two left. Both charged at the same time. Cap threw his shield at such an angle and with such force that it hit the first, bounced of his head, hit the remains of a tank and bounced back and hit the other, a female.
Was this right? Surely Captain America was defending innocent citizens, but in the process he was hurting children! Women! What was right in this new world? It had changed so much since his ‘death.’ The line between good and evil was blurred. For once Cap didn’t know what he was fighting for. Everybody he cared about was dead or nearly so. The world he now lived in was…different. Did good, true good, still exist? The wartime hero thought back to the boy he had fought with the other day. Spider-Man—Cap thought that was what the people called him. He was so young…but so very brave. He risked his life every day for people he didn’t even know. He had no vendetta, as Captain America did, against the cruel forces of Hydra. Against anyone, for that matter. Spider-Man saved lives and fought evil not because he was at war, or for his own personal revenge or gain, but because it was the right thing to do. Captain America…maybe he should do the same. Fighting Hydra was certainly important, but maybe…just maybe, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t right. He needed to expand his horizons.
But first, he had to finish what he’d started.
Cap looked up. Leading the group of the now-unconscious anarchists was a young, mid-twenties woman dressed in emerald green, her hair dyed the very same color. “Hail Hydra!” She screamed, and charged Captain America, spraying wildly with an assault rifle. Cap brought up his shield to block the incoming fire. He ran right back at the woman.
One of the bullets ricocheted off his shield and into the woman’s stomach. She fell to the ground. Captain America stood over her, shield at the ready in case she made a move to attack again.
“Who are you?” He first asked.
“The voice of many,” the girl spit, hitting Cap’s knee. He sighed.
“I ask again,” more firm this time, “Who are you?”
“My name does not matter,” The woman growled, venom in her voice, “But my children call me Viper.”
“Children?” Cap asked, but didn’t give Viper a chance to answer. “Who gave you the weapons?”
“Hehehe…” the woman chuckled, before bursting into a fit of coughing, blood emerging instead of phlegm, “You know, fascist scum. Hydra blesses us with their power.”
“Hydra doesn’t employ untrained children!” the Captain yelled.
“This isn’t the forties anymore, Captain America…” And with those final words, the woman fainted. Cap looked down at her wound. She was old, in charge of herself. She made her own decisions. She chose to be a terrorist; she chose to attack innocent people. But did that give Captain America a reason to let her die? If it was still The War, there would be no doubt he would have left her, but as she said, it wasn’t ‘the forties anymore.’ This was a different time, and it required a different type of hero. Not a war hero.
A superhero.
And so, with a grunt, Captain America ripped off a piece of his uniform and wrapped it tightly around Viper’s wound. He hoisted the terrorist over his shoulder and began to carry her to safety.
This was a new time.
And Captain America welcomed that.
A
“So, who else?” Tony prodded.
Hank collapsed into the seat and rested his arms on the armrests. “This’ll also sound weird…well, to me at least, but a…the Spider-Man, I think.”
“He’s alive.” Tony confirmed, taking another swig of scotch.
Hank continued, “A green, hulking monster. A flying woman in red, blue and yellow. And Johnny Storm. I’ve already contacted him.” Hank finished, and shifted awkwardly in his seat. He appeared very similar in appearance as when he had hidden the truth about his own AI.
“That’s it?” Tony asked, clearly seeing through Pym’s ruse again.
“Well, no,” he wasn’t one to lie, “But I’d rather keep her out of it.”
Tony sat forward in his seat, intrigued, “Who?”
“Really, it’s not important.”
“You said it yourself, Pym. This is the ‘fate of the world.’” Tony pushed.
Pym ran a hand through his thick, greasy, unkempt hair. He considered his options: tell Tony the truth and potentially have another argument on his hands, or avoid the subject until Tony gives up and potentially cause the end of the world. It was a tough decision. Pym sighed, “I…The last of us…the last of our team…it’s…”
”It’s Janet.”
Stark’s eyes went wide, “What?”
“I…I know. It’s ridiculous.” Pym admitted, “She doesn’t have powers. She…she has no place in this.”
Tony shook his head, “I agree. She has to be left out of this…assuming there is a ‘this’ of course.”
Hank Pym nodded. The two sat in silence for a few seconds, letting that brief sub topic die, before Hank spoke up, “So?”
Tony sighed. He leaned back in the chair and began to massage his head. “Pym…Hank, I…I don’t know what to say. You seem pretty freaked out, and as part of my whole ‘new-good-guy me’ thing I’m supposed to give people a chance, but I have my own issues to deal with. I have a potential world-conquering terrorist on the loose and…”
“The Mandarin?” Pym interrupted.
Tony gave Pym a inquiring look, “Yes…how did you know?”
“While I was out attempting to get a meeting with you, I overheard your staff mention ‘The Mandarin’ and how he was attempting to find ‘ten rings.’ I figured he wasn’t a good guy by the tone they used when talking about him, and well, it wasn’t exactly hard to deduce the rest. Especially not with a Google search.”
“Well then,” Stark began, “You know what I’m dealing with and why I have to politely tell you and your crazy dreams to go away.”
“Tony…I saw pictures of the Mandarin. He was in my vision. He was on the other team.” Pym explained.
“Don’t BS me into this, Pym,” Tony replied, long-hidden anger slowly beginning to pop back up, “I’m not stupid.”
“I’m not lying, Tony, I would never lie about this.”
Tony stood up from his seat and slammed his hands against his desk, “Well, Pym, even assuming you’re not trying to fuck me out of my time, how the hell are we supposed to save the world? How the hell do we find these people? Good and bad?”
“Oh, the Bad…” a dark, deep, eerily familiar voice echoed throughout the room, seemingly from nowhere, “They’ll find you.”
The windows exploded as a hulking green-grey man-monster burst into the room.
“Shit,” Pym muttered and shrunk.
Stark fell back on his backside, his glass of scotch spilling onto the floor. “Pym!” He called, “PYM!”
“Don’t ask for that bastard’s help,” the monster grunted, slamming his fists on both sides of Tony, “He’s a fucking coward. Always has been, always will be.”
Realization began to dawn on Tony as he looked into the eyes of the monster, “Brian?”
The monster made a sound similar to a dying pig, a possible attempt at a laugh, “Brian Boreman’s dead. Devil Hulk’s all that remains.”
“Fuck,” Stark cursed, as the reality of his situation and Pym’s words came to light. “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you? And I don’t even know why.”
Devil Hulk lifted Stark upside-down off the ground with his thumb and index finger, “Nah, the boss wants you alive.”
“Well,” Tony wasn’t one to give up without fighting, armor or not, “In that case, sucks to be you.”
“Wha-“
Stark punched Devil Hulk two-fisted in the crotch. The behemoth roared and dropped Stark. “It’ll bruise,” Tony joked. Before Devil Hulk could respond, he reached for a lamp and struck it over the monster’s head. This time it didn’t even flinch.
Tony began to back away as Devil Hulk walked slowly, angrily towards him. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m sure it’ll heal.” Devil Hulk grunted. “Oh shiiiaaaa!!!” Stark yelled as he was pulled into a thick bear hug by Devil Hulk.
The belligerent beast roared, “Boss said I had to bring you in alive, prick, not healthy.”
“Yeah, y’know, I think we’ve both done some stuff we regret today. I hit you in the crotch. You trashed a wonderful, beautiful office. Let’s just leave that all behind and AAGGHH!!” Stark tried to diffuse the situation but was interrupted as Devil Hulk squeezed tighter, knocking all of the air out of Stark’s lungs and breaking a few of his ribs.
“Nighty night, Stark,” Devil Hulk said. And just when Stark thought it was all over, and his vision began to fade…
Hank Pym burst from Tony’s desk and slugged the Devil Hulk!
The once-Brian Boreman was forced to drop Stark in order to engage this new foe. “Brian,” Hank shouted, “Please stop this now. I am a peaceful man, but I will put you down if I must.”
“Like you could,” Devil Hulk retorted.
“Maybe not alone,” Pym tossed the currently groggy Tony Stark a red and gold armored briefcase, which he’d apparently gotten from the desk, “But together, Iron Man and…and Giant Man, I think we have a chance.”
The briefcase shook Stark awake. He knew what it was, and, now, why Pym had disappeared. Stark stood up and held the briefcase to his chest, he pulled on the handle and the briefcase began to transform into a suit of his Iron Man armor, automatically forming over Tony’s chest. Within a second, the armor was on. Stark just grinned from inside the armor, “Oh yeah, now it’s game time.”
Devil Hulk’s eyes grew wide as Iron Man launched him out of the building with a uni-beam. The Iron Avenger turned his head to face Pym, and extended his hand, “You coming with?”
Pym nodded, jumped and shrunk mid-air to land in Iron Man’s hand. ”Let’s go.”
Iron Man didn’t even nod in response. He launched into the air after the falling ex-scientist-turned-monster. “Force equals acceleration times…”
“Mass.” Pym finished, leaping from Iron Man’s hand and growing to nearly twenty feet tall. He immediately caught up with Devil Hulk using this tactic, and using Stark’s intended plan, tackled the villain mid-air into the ground. The force of the attack caused a considerable seismic wave that created a massive crater in the middle of the street. Luckily, only a few cars were in the area and no one was hurt. Immediately, however, people all around ran away in fear from the super-fight.
Devil Hulk used surprising strength and picked up Giant Man and threw him into the side of Stark Tower, which began to fall down. “Damnit! The Tower’s collapsing!” Stark cursed, “VISION, have all floors east side move down one level and move anything equaling a total weight of five-hundred-fifty pounds to further even out the weight distribution.”
“Yes, sir,” VISION’s even, deep voice came through the suit’s internal speakers, “It is done.” And as Tony had calculated Stark Tower was no longer collapsing.
“Good job, Viz,” Iron Man used the nickname he’d given the AI, “Now, focus all repulsor power on the uni-beam. I’m talking thrusters, blasters and Repulsor RPGs.”
Devil Hulk turned to Iron Man and roared, “Come at me, Stark!”
Iron Man’s armor quickly floated to the ground, repulsors losing power, and the armored Avenger counted down, “Fire in three…two…one.”
An explosive burst of energy blasted out from his suit of armor and engulfed Devil Hulk. The monster tried to push through the attack, tried to overcome the searing pain encompassing his body, lasting for nearly twenty seconds without budging, but he couldn’t. The Devil Hulk roared one final time, and then leapt off and away from Iron Man and the city.
Stark sighed inside the armor, “Thank God, the suit didn’t have much more power.”
And as if on cue, VISION said, “Suit power levels at fifteen percent.”
“Yeah, I can read,” Tony chuckled. A scream brought Tony back to reality and back to what had just occurred. “Pym!”
Iron Man turned around and made one repulsor-pushed jump to the first floor of Stark Tower, now easily enterable because all of the walls were demolished. The receptionist, the very same woman who had jeered at Pym and refused him passage, screamed at the bloody, beaten body of Giant Man as he sat up.
“I’m alright, I’m alright.” Pym tried to calm the woman. When the woman wouldn’t stop screaming, Pym realized it was at his height, not the blood. He shrunk down to normal size. “I’m a normal guy, see? Please, calm down.”
The woman continued to scream, and ran off. Pym shrugged his shoulders and turned to Iron Man. Pym sighed, “You’d think people would be used to all of the super stuff by now.”
Iron Man didn’t respond.
“So…” Pym ran a hand through his blood-covered hair, “You in now or what?”
“Of course, Pym,” Tony sarcastically replied, grinning good-naturedly inside the armor, “You’re obviously incapable of doing this by yourself,” he pointed to Pym’s bloody and bruised physique.
Pym sheepishly scratched his head, “Yeah, I could use an expert to help me out with this super-heroing stuff.”
“Oh no,” Iron Man chuckled, “The expert’s who we’re going after next.”
Pym nodded his head in understanding. He held out his hand, “So, we good now?”
Iron Man snorted, “Not till you come up with a better codename. I mean honestly, ‘Giant Man.’ Cheasy as hell. Also, are you going to call yourself that when you’re shrunk down too?” He sarcastically finished.
“Hey, Iron Man’s not any better. And it’s not like your suit’s made out of iron either.” Pym retorted.
“Touché,” Iron Man took Pym’s hand.
“So, what are we?” Pym asked, “The team, I mean?”
Stark thought it over. Their team…their role in the world, what was it? They were heroes, surely, but what kind of heroes? What supportive, definitive name would describe their attitude? In the end, Stark had many options. He went with the coolest.
“We’re the Avengers.”