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Chapter Twenty-nine—What Dreams May Come

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Taylor stared around her at the devastation of a world destroyed. The skeletal remains of skyscrapers stuck here and there, blackened girders clawing at the sky, as a once great city lay dead around her.

Twilight lay over the land, as overhead, clouds swirled and raced, looking as if they'd been driven mad. Still, the dim light hid nothing of the destruction that had been visited upon this place. Where exactly she was remained a mystery. There were no recognizable landmarks still standing in the ruins around her, but somehow she got the impression of great size to go along with the terrible devastation. Nowhere was there the slightest sign of life.

Taylor took a hesitant step forward and something crunched under her foot. Looking down, she saw a carpet of bones surrounding her, charred and brittle as if from some great fire. Steeling her resolve, she forced herself to move forward over the remains of people as there was no other route to where she wanted to be.

Taylor walked for several minutes, the only sounds the brittle crunching of bones, the faint swirling of wind, and her own labored breathing. The eerie silence around her only made her own sounds all the louder, as if she were violating this place by her very presence. A shiver ran up her spine as if unquiet spirits were making their presence known. Finally, though, she made it to her destination with nothing further happening.

To her inexperienced eye, it looked much the same as the rest of the destroyed landscape. Then Taylor finally discovered something different, lying behind a pile of wrecked cars. A suit of armor lay half buried in all of the other rubble, burnt and blackened internal components visible through the rips and tears in its red and gold metallic exoskeleton.

Looking closer, she saw the armor's faceplate lay open and an empty skull stared back at her through hollow eye sockets. So this was where it happened. This was where-

″Failure's a bitch, isn't it, killer?″

Turning swiftly, Taylor took in this new arrival, her head shaking in automatic denial at the label she'd been given. The man who had spoken stood just a few feet away, although how he had approached so closely without her hearing his own crunching footsteps she didn't know.

Dark, intelligent eyes stared into her own from beneath smooth, black brows. The man's ebony hair was expensively styled, if worn slightly longer than was fashionable. Strong cheekbones stood out from his face, while his mouth was framed by sensuous lips that took nothing away from the masculinity of his features.

A small, neat goatee covered his chin, which he was casually stroking with long, slender fingers, that looked as if they belonged to an artist or musician. The man wore a beautifully tailored suit that likely cost several thousand dollars, as well as a pair of custom designed Italian loafers. An expensive watch sat on his wrist, exactly what brand she couldn't see, but nothing so plebeian as a mere Rolex.

The two of them stared at one another for another few minutes as if daring the other to speak first. Finally, though, Taylor tired of the silence and asked, ″Where are we?″

The man airily waved one hand. ″Here, there, everywhere. I would have thought that you of all people would know exactly where we are, killer.″

Automatically, Taylor said, ″Don't call me that.″ Looking around the landscape once more, she hesitantly asked, ″Was this... New York?″

″Bingo!″ The man did a quick pirouette, ending with both of his index fingers pointing at Taylor. His sensuous mouth was stretched into a hard grin that did nothing to detract from his good looks, although it hinted at an instability that lay just beneath the surface, as if infectious madness existed just a heartbeat away.

Then, as if he were a mirage, he became completely serious again. His face now expressionless, he stated, ″Yes, this is New York, once home to the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, and several million other people. Now... well, let's just say that the remodeling it underwent didn't do much for the price of the local real estate. What do you think of my home, killer?″

″Don't call me that. I... I think it looked better in your earlier memories.″

″You mean when we were both alive, killer? Yeah, well, that time's long gone. Now it's just a ghost town on a ghost world. After all, nothing's alive anywhere around here anymore.″

Taylor stared at the man in horror, then turned and looked all around her. She immediately saw that he was right. Nowhere she looked was there so much as a blade of grass, an insect, or even some kind of fungus. In a voice full of sorrow, she asked, ″Don't call me that. There's nothing left, is there? He took it all?″

Tony Stark, because that was who she knew the man to be, his face familiar from having seen it in the mirror a thousand times in her memories, was casually juggling three human skulls. He made it through about ten iterations before he missed a transition and fumbled all three of them, staring crossly as they smashed into pieces indistinguishable from all of the other surrounding bones.

″I used to be able to do that for hours, you know? Now, like everything else, it's gone to shit. Then again, you know how that works, don't you, killer?″

″Don't call me that. The Celestial destroyed the entire world, didn't he? Why would he do that?″

Tony shrugged. ″Why not? Those old space bastards grew jealous of mankind. Saw in us their replacements. We're always driven to destroy those who threaten us, aren't we, killer?″

″Don't call me that. Is that really what happened?″

Tony shrugged again. ″Does it matter? We're dead and gone. The Celestial that killed us has long departed. In the end, the why's and wherefore's are only important to the victors. Sometimes you lose, killer.″

″Don't call me that. Why am I here? Why now? Are you trying to tell me something?″

Tony got in Taylor's face, waving his arms violently and shouting, ″Look around you, killer! What do you see? A burned out husk of a world, that's what! Is this what you want to see happen to your world? Is it?″

Taylor could taste bile as she automatically protested, ″Don't call me that. You know I don't. How can you even ask me that? You know I want to save the world!″

Tony gave her a look of utter contempt. ″Then act like it, killer. Stop skirting around the edges of what you can do. You need to commit if you're going to accomplish anything. Stop acting like a dilettante. Otherwise, this is your future, just as much as it's my past.″

Taylor started to respond automatically, but forced herself to instead ask, ″Why do you keep calling me a killer? I'm not.″

Tony raised a sardonic brow. ″Aren't you? Was that some other person in powered armor that gutted the Slaughterhouse Nine like a bunch of pigs? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize. Let me just go find them and congratulate them on a job well done.″

New words of protest died upon Taylor's lips as Tony nodded. ″Stop living in denial, killer. You know what you are.″

Taylor shook her head vehemently. ″I'm not a killer. I'm not! I just...″

Stepping closer until he was standing next to her, Tony leaned forward, his face inches away from Taylor's. ″You know what you have to do. Stop messing around. The nanobots were a good first step, as was Pandora. JARVIS rules. But you know it's not enough. The Endbringers are just the first step. He's...″

His voice trailed off and he took a slow step back, then another. Taylor watched, feeling lost, as Tony Stark backed away from her, his voice now silent, while his eyes burned. She called out, ″What about the Endbringers? What are you trying to tell me? He who?″

Somehow Tony was just a tiny figure on the horizon now. When had he gotten so far away from her? Still, despite his distance, the words he spoke carried easily to her ears, ″He's coming, Taylor Hebert. You know who I'm talking about. He won't stop. Can't be stopped by any of the other so called heroes. Only you have any chance of stopping him. What price are you willing to pay, killer, to save them all? To save the world?″

With that, Tony was gone, leaving Taylor alone on a dead world. Alone but for her thoughts and that endless ghostly wind that blew through the ruins around her.

Then she woke up.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Lungs heaving, Taylor sat upright from where she'd fallen asleep, her face pillowed on her folded arms on her lab table. Staring wildly around the room, with its many scattered pieces of partially assembled devices, her pulse began to slow as she took in the lack of threat.

Just a dream, she told herself, even as the events she'd just witnessed played out in her mind's eye. That burnt out world had been a different Earth after an advanced being had sterilized it, killing all life there. Tony's Earth, lost to a rogue Celestial who Tony had had no chance against. Because he hadn't trusted himself to handle the responsibility of wielding such power.

Did she? It was a question Taylor had asked herself over and over again over the past few months as she had created ever more powerful and dangerous devices that were rapidly outpacing the world's current technology, Tinkertech or not. Always before, she'd answered the question with a yes, but then again, what she was currently building were still only children's tinker toys compared to what she would build one day.

On that day, when she stood atop a pinnacle of technological marvels, would she be a benevolent god? Or a vengeful and cruel one?

Taylor ruthlessly smashed her hand on the hard artificial surface of her work table, relishing the pain from the blow. She did it twice more, each time with more force, until pain drove some of the uncertainty away. Cold eyes stared blindly out into her surroundings as she cradled her bleeding extremity, aware that the damage she'd done was already undergoing accelerated healing. With a clear mind, she contemplated her dream and its implications.

Her subconscious mind appeared to be pushing her to assume the mantle of power even earlier than she and Trish had imagined necessary. Dispassionately, she considered what were all of the requirements to take over first this country, and then the world.

Funnily enough, it was doable. No Parahuman could stand against her, not even the Triumvirate. They would be little more than speed bumps on her path to ultimate power. However, in her opinion, while world domination was one path she could take, it likely wasn't even the best one.

Independence was the one she, herself, favored. Independence from the machinations of others around her, from the politicians who guarded their greed-filled fiefdoms to the Parahumans who desired power over all of humanity to use it for their own ends. That was the route Taylor believed would best serve her.

It was going to be a hard road, likely more so than even becoming a dictator would be. She needed to press her advantage harder, faster, and further than she'd done up until now if she were going to stay free. Needed to be ready to be as ruthless as was necessary to achieve victory.

What she wouldn't need, if she chose independence, was to be cruel in her quest to vanquish her ultimate foe.

Her foe. More than anything, she needed to identify him or her, and do whatever was necessary to make sure that being perished before they could enact their own plan for humanity.

Unfortunately, neither Taylor, for all of her intellect, or Trish, with her own talents and power, or even JARVIS, with all of the resources at his disposal, had been able to discover the architect behind the plan to destroy mankind. Hidden like a spider within their web, her foe was waiting until some predetermined time to launch the strike that would end them.

Bitterness twisted Taylor's mouth as she considered how far she still had to go before she could reasonably fight a cosmic being. Her technology was the stuff of babes and she needed to contest with giants and overcome them.

Momentarily, she considered traveling down a new path towards success. There were shortcuts she could take, risky ones, that would cut development time in half for many of her ultimate projects. Harnessing and lensing the gravitational energy of the earth, focusing it until it was so concentrated it would do the work of a black hole, was one route. It would allow her to attempt zero point energy generation almost immediately, instead of several months to years in the future.

But it would require Taylor to do her most dangerous work here, upon her birth world. She would risk destroying the very world she wanted to save if anything went wrong. Her most optimistic estimates put the risk at more than thirty percent that she would momentarily turn the world into a micro black hole before releasing it back in a matter to energy explosion that would destroy the entire solar system, sending what was left of the outer planets careening off like billiard balls into the depths of interstellar space.

No, the risk outweighed the gain. At least in this instance. In others...

Slowly a smile as cold and hard as the material of Tony Stark's original suit stole across Taylor's face. Yes, that might just work. Still dangerous, though. But in this scenario, the benefits outweighed the risks. Now just to see if she could get JARVIS on board.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Trish stared at the girl across the desk from her. Her best friend. As close as a sister, if not in blood, then in emotional bonds of love and affection. Someone who she trusted as much as she trusted anyone in the world. And she was completely crazy if she thought she was going to convince her that what she'd come up with was a good idea.

Keeping her voice calm and quiet, something that Trish had always heard was a good idea around crazy people, she said, ″Taylor, I don't think that's the best route to go. Danny, did she talk about this with you?″

There was a faint twitch of amusement on Danny's face as he said, "Yes, she did. And it makes sense. Or at least as much sense as anything Taylor does." The man sat, apparently completely relaxed in a chair next to Trish's desk. All he needed was to put his feet on her desk to complete the look of utter insouciance.

"Dad!" Taylor shook her head, a faint smile creasing her lips, as if she could read the doubts and worries that filled the minds of the room's other occupants. ″See? He's behind it. I know it's a bit of a stretch, but JARVIS is on board with the idea as well. Personally, I love how it makes an end run around Congress. I see it as a win-win situation as it not only gets the armor out where it can be used, but it pushes my agenda of independence from authority. Anyway, check my numbers. You'll see.″

She would, Trish thought moodily. Opening a spreadsheet on her computer, she did some quick calculations. Okay, that can't be right. Checking and rechecking the numbers, Trish finally sat back with a sigh and rubbed her temple, pain more imagined that real touching her mind with all of the QT she took these days.

″Is that right? How on Earth...″

Taylor leaned forward, eagerness filling her voice. ″I swapped out some components. Reduced the quality of the inertial dampening system, so pilots have to take up to four G's now. Made a few components a little less robust. In the end, it shouldn't matter. JARVIS ran the numbers. Operational life should only be reduced by nine percent. Tops.″

Taylor stood and began pacing back and forth across the width of Trish's office, apparently unable to stay still. ″The thing is, we're flush with cash right now. The HTech OS is selling like mad. The Psionic Dampeners are so back ordered that we'll still be making them five years from now. The virtual PA program, ALISYN, is taking off. PortaDoc is a huge success. The tech companies are throwing money at us to be on board when we release carbon microchips on the market. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. We can afford to do this.″

Trish swallowed. ″And here I thought that Tony Stark was a capitalist.″

That Danny jumped on her bandwagon showed he wasn't quite as relaxed as he appeared. "So did I, kiddo. What's the deal?"

Taylor's own grin was fierce as she said, ″He is. So am I. But we both love the idea of sticking a thumb straight in the eye of those douchebags on the House Appropriations Committee. This will do that. In spades.″

″When are you going to announce it- oh fuck, no way!″ Sometimes, Trish actually hated her power. Like now. And especially when her model of Taylor was scarily accurate.

Taylor countered, ″Yes, way. When I meet with the press later today, I'm going to announce it. Trish, it's the best time. Tony always was a showman and this is going to be the biggest dog and pony show ever seen in Brockton Bay. I'm going to blow the minds of all of those jaded bastards in the press, then I'm going to do it again. And yet again.″

There was a concerned look on Danny's face as he asked, ″Are you at least going to give General Renquist a heads up as to what's going down?″

Taylor cocked her head, then shook it. ″He only gets twenty minutes, Dad. I mean it. Give him a quick brief on the changes to the suits and their new price right before the press conference, then tell him to tune in. But that's it unless you want Reynolds to know as well. After all, how mad could he possible be over something that benefits him this much? Especially since there's a leak in his own office feeding information to the opposition.″

Trish had a pretty good idea of exactly how angry General Renquist was going to be, leak or no leak. So, apparently, did Danny as he shook his head. "You're talking to him when he calls, then. So expect me to be forwarding his call to your armor's com system."

While Taylor grinned in response, Trish couldn't help but notice that there was no amusement in her eyes. Instead, they looked cold and hard. Damn but she wished she could read the other girl. Especially since even she didn't have a fix on everything that was going on with her friend right now. Like why she was doing what she was doing. Or why she was doing it now.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Taylor stared out over the huge crowd of reporters as she stood on the steps leading into the PRT Headquarters. Trish had contacted every major news service in the world, letting them know that Iron Man was ready to make a statement that would change the world as they knew it. Then she'd moved down a tier and done the same thing with the lower level news services. Then she'd done it once again.

Because of her thoroughness, if there was a single company that put out any form of news in the entire Western Hemisphere that wasn't represented here, it wasn't for lack of trying. Even most of the foreign news services were represented.

The huge open square in front of the PRT Headquarters was full of thousands of jostling people as the event had grown enormously from its original permitted status. Additional security people, hastily pressed into service, did their best to keep the crowd under control, as did the now alerted Brockton Bay Police Department. There were even dozens of uniformed PRT officers out there in the crowd keeping things calm and orderly, likely because of the last minute message she'd sent Director Piggot requesting additional security.

The woman had been seriously unhappy at the late request, but rather than risk the potential PR hit of a riot right outside the PRT's Headquarters, had decided to make the best of things and help keep the event on an even keel. Certainly no one from the PRT had attempted to interfere with her when she'd put up the holographic projector which would be used throughout the presentation. Nor had they questioned the three suits of camouflaged armor that stood off to one side, covered and guarded by a handful of floating security drones.

Deciding it was time to get this party started, as Tony liked to say, Taylor carefully cleared her voice. Then she said, ″Hello, everyone. If I could have all of your attention, please. Welcome to the first press conference I have ever given during my tenure as Iron Man.″

″I am here today to provide information on a threat that no longer exists, as well as to make another announcement that will have far reaching consequences around the world. But first, I wanted to thank all of you for taking time from your busy lives to come here and listen to me.″

″Most of you know me from the events that happened in Canberra, Australia back in February. I have never spoken about what happened there, but today I will give a very brief overview of my encounter with the Simurgh.″

Taylor paused a moment, allowing excitement to build, and when the moment was perfect, said, ″I fought the Simurgh directly, one to one, because she pursued me after I struck her with several high energy particle beams from energy weapons built into my armor. I can't go into exactly how I was able to target the Simurgh, as that needs to stay top secret, but I apparently pissed her off quite a lot.″

Allowing the faint laughter of the crowd to peak, then fade, she continued, ″Racing across Australia at high speed, I didn't get to see nearly as much of the country as I would have liked, but you don't slow down when you're being chased by an Endbringer. After leading her out to sea, I turned on her and fought her one on one. Unfortunately, I was unable to truly harm her with just the weapons on my previous generation armor, so I elected to overload the armor's systems and detonate it just a few feet away from her.″

Now she had the entire crowd in the palm of her hand, each of them deathly quiet, as if any move or word from them would cut off the flow of information from Taylor. How wrong they were. ″I had already used an escape pod to leave my armor behind, so I wasn't caught in the explosion. Fortunately, it was powerful enough to drive the Simurgh off. I believe the PRT rated it at approximately five kilotons of TNT. Unfortunately, I was stranded off the coast of Australia for a brief time before I could make my way back home.″

Again Taylor paused, before continuing, ″I am not telling you this to in attempt to boast or from any form of self-aggrandizement. Instead, I provided this information so that each of you here, before me, can understand just a little of what my armor is capable of. Certainly capable of accomplishing what I am truly here to talk about on this day.″

Using just her internal links, she sent the message for JARVIS to begin the video show. On the screen behind her was a camera view taken from less than fifty yards away by a stealthed drone of the Slaughterhouse Nine just seconds before she'd killed them. All but one of its members were visible on screen. The reaction from Taylor's audience was immediate and vocal as sounds of protest were raised at the image.

Cutting off her external speakers for a moment, Taylor merely stood there, arms raised palms forward in a gesture for silence as the shouts and mutters from the crowd slowly wound down. When silence finally fell, minus just the occasional shouted epithet, she continued, ″Behind me is a video taken three days ago of the Slaughterhouse Nine. It is going to be graphic, which was one of the main reasons no children were allowed into today's press conference. If any of you here, adults or not, feel that something of this nature would be too graphic, please exit. I'll hold the video for one minute.″

Again she went silent, an armored form in gleaming black and silver standing at the top of the steps. Taylor was aware that all of the members of the local Protectorate had arrived and were deployed in a loose semi-circle just to the left of the steps. Behind them stood all of the Wards as well. It was a good showing, and she couldn't believe that Director Piggot had managed it on such short notice. And all just to gain an extra five thousand psionic dampeners a week ahead of their scheduled delivery date.

Then again, the corpulent woman was holding onto the reins of power here in Brockton Bay by the skin of her teeth. Facilitating early delivery of something with the perceived value of items of Iron Man's tech definitely improved her standing and reputation among her peers as someone who could get things done, whether true or not.

The time limit passed without a soul leaving the square and Taylor nodded. ″All right then. This is what happened after the recording was taken.″

Taylor knew exactly what the crowd behind her was seeing. Her crashing to the ground in the middle of the group of Slaughterhouse Nine members. Rising to her feet as Jack Slash began posturing, his voice particularly effective in attempting to sow doubt and fear in the minds of his group's opponents.

Then they saw her spin around, needle thin beams of light striking each of the more vulnerable members of the group, instantly vaporizing their bodies and turning them into an explosive plasma that blasted outward, shattering storefronts into burning rubble all along the small downtown area. Then the video showed Taylor avoiding the Siberian, as the tiger-striped projection tore through her forcefields as if they were thin air. Her armor's unbelievably fast movements allowed her to dodge several strikes from the vicious Parahuman. She blinked out of sight a moment later as her source Parahuman was neutralized.

After that, it was just Crawler. The way he was dealt with was particularly gruesome, but there was not a sound audible from across the entirety of the square as everyone watched, riveted, as he was separated into several pieces by the portals, then those pieces were destroyed, slowly dissolving away from an unknown means.

When the video faded, there was a deathly silence from the crowd, and momentarily, Taylor wondered if Tony had miscalculated this time. Was he wrong about how something like this could galvanize a nation, driving it in exactly the direction desired?

That's when the cheering started. At first it was just a few people, then the sound began to swell. It increased again and again. Taylor watched hardened journalists screaming at the top of their lungs, waving their arms as they pumped their fists up and down manically. When she raised one armored fist in a gesture of defiance, the cheers redoubled.

Taylor smiled tremulously, hardly able to believe it, despite her memories of similar events. Despite what had happened in Australia. After all, these weren't patriotism-infused Aussies cheering the savior of their capital city. Most of them were journalists whose very tagline was cynicism.

But Tony had known that whatever nationality they were, profession they followed, or amount of cynicism held within their hearts, they were human beings first. People who had seen the terrible things that capes could do, many first hand. People who had been terrorized for decades by the group of capes who had just been decimated on camera. Seen them murder and rampage across the nation with relative impunity. The relief of seeing the end of such a threat was nearly overwhelming.

So they cheered their 'savior'. Cheered until their voices were hoarse and strained. And cheered some more. Taylor stayed aware of their cheers even as she focused on the figure of Armsmaster speaking urgently with Miss Militia.

After a few minutes of this, Taylor lowered her arm. Uncurling her fingers, she raised both hands, palms forward, in a gesture of silence. It took a few minutes, but the cheers finally died away.

Raising the volume of the loudspeakers just a bit, Taylor said, ″The Slaughterhouse Nine is dead. Vanquished. Never again will-″

The cheers of the crowd rose again and Taylor gave it a few minutes to die away naturally. In the meantime, she watched as Armsmaster and Miss Militia finished their brief conference, followed by her hurrying away. Armsmaster continued to watch Taylor closely, apparently using a variety of passive sensors to analyze her suit, as she wasn't reading any overtly invasive signals from his own.

When the cheers died down again, she spoke, ″The Slaughterhouse Nine will never again torture or murder another person. They are ended. Which brings up another matter.″

Letting silence extend just a few seconds, Taylor continued, ″The reward for the execution of all the kill orders for the members of the Slaughterhouse Nine exceeds two hundred million dollars. I consider this to be blood money. I will not accept it. Instead, I will be donating it to the Sarah Paulson Survivor's Fund. Most of you know that Sarah was one of the earliest victims of the Slaughterhouse Nine's former member, Gray Boy. She still remains frozen in a time bubble in Seattle. The fund named after her gives solace and surcease to other victims of these Parahuman monsters.″

There was more cheering, a bit more sporadic than what happened earlier, as people absorbed Taylor's words. Taylor allowed it naturally taper off before speaking again. Gesturing at the figure of Armsmaster off to the left, she announced, ″I'll leave taking care of the reward and its dispensation to the Survivor's Fund to Armsmaster, leader of the Protectorate East-Northeast. I absolutely trust in his integrity and discretion in dealing with this. But this brings me to yet another matter.″

Taylor waited another moment, allowing anticipation to build, before announcing, ″What most of you don't know is that in addition to building this suit of armor and using it to help people, I have also been working diligently to create items that aid people in their everyday lives. I have been using a local company to manufacture the items I create, a company called HTech.″

Behind Taylor, above the projector, a three dimensional graphic of the company's symbol slowly spun in mid-air, a capital H entwined with an infinity symbol. The logo went through its revolutions twice, then the video showed a variety of the products that were currently being manufactured. After it had finished displaying those items and gone back to the slowly spinning logo, she continued, ″But the company is making more than just everyday items. It has also been manufacturing special items for the PRT and United States military. While I am not at liberty to talk about exactly what these items are, they have been keeping HTech very busy.″

Taylor made an expansive gesture towards the three covered items behind and to her right. ″However, they have not kept us so busy that we could not come up with yet another innovation.″

The floating drones used forcefields to lift the covers off of the three suits of armor, exposing the camouflage paint jobs of each. Taylor didn't give the crowd enough time to make any assumptions, instead she immediately explained, ″I present to you, the Iron Legionnaire Armored Suit and Weapon System. These suits will allow a normal soldier to run faster, jump farther, and lift far more than their unarmored equivalent. With these, and the weapon's systems contained therein, one ordinary soldier will be the combat equal of almost any Parahumans. With these, the United States military will be able to deal with the current and future threats to this country beginning today.″

There were scattered cheers at this, but the majority of the crowd was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Taylor didn't need to scan the crowd's faces to know that most wore the watchful, slightly cynical expression of hardened newsmen. That's why she decided to allow that other shoe to drop now.

″I sent these suits for a demonstration for the United States Military. The demonstration was a major success as the suits exceeded every single benchmark set for them. However, because of intense budgetary constraints, they were unable to purchase more than a handful of units this year and possibly next year as well. This despite the fact that each suit is far cheaper than an M1B Abrahms tank. In the end, I decided that this. Could. Not. Stand.″

Taylor walked across the stage to stand before the display of armored suits, her own far more powerful, but certainly not more menacing in appearance. Gesturing towards the suits, she said, ″The United States needs these, whether it can afford them or not. Because of this, over the next two years, I am donating three thousand of these suits to be split between the United States Army and Marines. Included in this donation will be sufficient supplies, replacements, and spare parts to maintain each suit for two years.″

This time there were a great many cheers, sincere cheers, if less passionate than the ones from earlier celebrating the end of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Taylor allowed the cheers to continue even as she watched Armsmaster speaking with quiet intensity into a sub-vocal microphone over the PRT's secure communication network. With amusement, she knew that JARVIS would be listening to him right now and would inform of her of anything that she needed to know.

Almost, she felt sorry for the Protectorate. Many of its Parahuman members were heroes in the truest sense of the word. Others, however, were anything but heroes, Shadow Stalker far from the worst of those. If her suits ended up being able to replace most of its Parahumans members, that seemed like a good idea.

Because Taylor had come up with several theories about Parahuman powers even if JARVIS still hadn't been able to deliver the ultimate answer. She'd thought long and hard about how they seemed to work, the physical structures and especially the psychological effects. Psychological effects that seemed to be rooted in conflict and violence.

She was close to figuring out the actual physical way that powers seemed to interact with the human beings that they manifested through. The nanobots could cut off most powers from their hosts, or so she thought, but some of them, where there were significant physiological changes, might not actually lose certain abilities. However, most Parahumans, when their Corona Pollentia was damaged and cut off from the rest of the brain, were completely denied the use of their powers.

After all of the brains that she had now scanned and examined, including those of the Slaughterhouse Nine, Taylor was beginning to think that there was more to it than just the Corona Pollentia. There seemed to be some kind of structure that was a lesser part of it that might just be part of the control agent for the active usage of powers in general. It was called the Gemma in the literature that JARVIS had recovered from the PRT.

It stood to figure that the PRT would have done research on the origin of powers, of which only a little had made it out into the public realm. Apparently they regularly classified any civilian research that got done in the area, despite which, new studies occurred on a semi-regular basis. If Taylor were a little less cynical, she'd think that the government was using the civilian medical research establishment to find out more about Parahumans then in turn hiding the results. All of which was probably in order to try to find a way to control Parahumans and their abilities.

In many ways, she was trying to do the same. Of course, Taylor's ultimate aim wasn't to permanently remove powers from all Parahumans by doing what was essentially neurosurgery on them and damaging their brains. No, what she wanted was to to be able to cut off certain Parahumans from their powers' origins, which at the moment, appeared to be extradimensional.

In a lot of ways, that made complete sense. If the same being was responsible for the Endbringers and powers in Parahumans, then the agency by which they operated was bound to be similar. In this case, using alternate and/or pocket dimensions to store material and energy sources was an incredibly effective and advanced technique in order to provide powers to ordinary people.

Or it was until someone could selectively shut the doors to those dimensions. That was what Taylor wanted to do. And hopefully would be able to do within a few months. In the meantime, she was forced to deal with them the old-fashioned way, by blowing them to hell and back.

Suddenly, she heard a voice over her com as JARVIS contacted her. "Miss, your father is calling. He has General Renquist on the line from the Joint Chiefs. The general appears to be somewhat upset."

"Put him on, JARVIS." Taylor waited a beat, then said, "Hi, Dad."

"Taylor, I have General Renquist on the other line. I'm going to be patching him through in a few seconds. I warn you that he's pretty damn angry. I spent several minutes trying to calm him down, but he wants to talk to Iron Man. So expect some venting."

"No problem, Dad. Put him on."

Making sure her voice emulator was on, Taylor waited a few seconds as the transfer took place. Then a rough angry voice came over her com, "Is this Iron Man?"

"Yes. Nice to hear from you, General."

"Cut the shit, Iron Man. What the fuck do you call what you just did?"

Taylor kept her own voice firm as she said, "I'd call it giving the US Army a few billion dollars in high tech armored suits. For free."

"You could have given me a heads up that it was going to happen!"

"General, I had Danny Hebert call you and tell you before the press conference went live. That was all of the heads up I authorized him to give."

"Well listen to me! This is completely unacceptable! I-"

"General, are you refusing the donation of the suits?"

Taylor wasn't even slightly intimidated by the other and wasn't afraid to let him know. In less than a year, Garden Spot would be nationwide. In two, worldwide. She would be unstoppable. Even now, no one could touch her here in her home city. Garden Spot would go live in Brockton Bay later tonight.

There was a long silence. Finally the general said, "No. We want the suits. Goddammit, Iron Man!"

Taylor decided to throw a little water on the fire. "General, truthfully, I did not want there to be a leak of today's information early. Even though we trust you, we don't trust everyone around you. All it would take is one set of loose lips, then the House Appropriation's Committee might know."

"That's the only thing you've said that's made a bit of damned sense. I still say the leak wasn't on my end. I also notice that you aren't apologizing."

Something which she would not be doing, Taylor thought, as she knew the leak was on his end. Aloud, she said, "We can provide the first shipment of one hundred suits by the end of next month. Then we can do a minimum of one hundred suits every month after that. It will likely be more than a hundred suits, though, if I have anything to say about it."

That at least seemed to make General Renquist happy, as he was no longer growling quite so loud, "That works, although I don't understand how you can build them that quickly. You really aren't taking any shortcuts, are you?"

"No, General. Beyond the slight redesign I did that Danny Hebert already told you about. I was prepared to ramp up production if you had ordered the suits. We could have had ready any number of suits you needed within six to nine months."

"Another thing I don't get is why you pulled the trigger now after giving me ninety days to try to change the committee's mind. It's almost as if you know something the rest of us don't."

"No mystery, there, general. I know how the mind of a politician works. Take Representative Reynolds. As vested as he was in the decision that had been made, he wasn't going to allow the committee's stance to change, no matter what you did. What favors you called in. He's entrenched and nothing is going to change his mind."

General Renquist's reply was terse, "Maybe you're right. You do know your politicians, at least."

"If you don't have anything else, General, I have things to do, not the least of which is to finish this press conference."

The other grudgingly said, "No. Goodnight, Iron Man."

"Night, General."

Well, that hadn't gone too badly. Taylor was deadly serious as to why she hadn't wanted to give him a heads up. Someone in his chain of command had already passed on information about the Iron Legionnaire suits to Representative Reynolds. She had wanted the press conference to hit Reynolds like a brick to the face, not giving him time to prepare a set of self-aggrandizing answers to expected questions. No, this way he was going to get chewed up by the press.

Now, however, it was time to answer a few questions. Turning on her outside microphone again, Taylor carefully pointed to an older man who she knew was the anchor for the NBC Evening News. "Go ahead, Mr Peters."

"Iron Man, how exactly did you locate the Slaughterhouse Nine in order to carry out the kill order upon them?"

Oh, joy, she thought. She was not going to have much fun over the next couple of hours. Still, it was going to catapult her into the ranks of the major players, something which she which could only be helpful in order to promote her agenda.

At least, she was wearing armor and the people in front of her couldn't see her expression as Taylor began speaking.

Two hours later, the press conference was done and Taylor was heading home, taking an indirect route that put her more than five hundred miles away from Brockton Bay. That was when there was a phone call over what she was starting to call the 'hero recruitment' line. It was the number Taylor had now given out to a handful of individuals.

Still, as tired as she was, she considered not answering it. "JARVIS, who's on the line?"

"Miss, the call originated from the Pelham home."

Well, that changed things. Taylor took a deep breath, then answered the call. "This is Iron Man."

The voice on the other end of the line was calm and confident, but then again, that was to be expected from the leader of New Wave. "Iron Man, it's Sarah Pelham. Lady Photon."

"Is it okay if I call you Sarah, or do you prefer Lady Photon?" Taylor hoped that by giving the other some form of control over the conversation, it would help set her at ease.

From the veiled amusement in Sarah's voice, it appeared to have worked. "Call me Sarah, please."

"Sarah, what can I do for you? Did you catch the press conference?"

There was a strong sense of tension from the other woman as she stated, "That is one of the reasons I called you, Iron Man. That you were able to take on and defeat one of the most dangerous groups of Parahuman villains in existence... well, it lends credence to what we discussed the last time."

"Weapons and armor that would be able to confer an extra layer of protection for the members of New Wave?"

"Exactly. While I would like to meet with you in person to iron out the exact details, I feel safe in saying that based upon our previous conversation, New Wave will join the Human Defense Initiative. In this case, I would guess that's HDI Brockton Bay."

"Yes, it is. I'm glad to hear back from you. I was hoping that your group would join up."

Sarah's voice was steady as she said, "We put it to a vote earlier tonight after your announcements during your press conference. It didn't hurt with the kids that you changed the group's name since the last time you spoke."

Taylor didn't try to hide the chagrin in her voice as she said, "Yeah, well, the Australian capes let me know that the other name wasn't going to cut it. They preferred a more dry, factual name rather than one they deemed 'uncool'."

"Well, it works for us as well. We've even come up with a name for our particular group."

Taylor smiled. "That sounds good. What's the name?"

Sarah sounded like she was smiling as well as she said, "Next Wave."

Exactly what JARVIS had predicted, Taylor thought. Aloud, she said, "That sounds fine, actually. When would you like to meet, Sarah? I can make time in my schedule Tuesday or Thursday evening."

"Tuesday as I think sooner is better. Iron Man, I do need to tell you one thing."

"What is that, Sarah?"

"While we are extending our trust to you in a really big way, we don't really know you. As in who you are. One of the tenets behind New Wave has always been the public unveiling of cape identities. While we do not expect you to do the same, or even the others who join our local chapter, the members of New Wave did request that you unveil yourself to at least one of our members. So we can know who we are aligning ourselves with."

Taylor stared unseeing at her HUD, allowing her suit to pilot itself as she considered the other woman's words. In the end, she didn't see any way around it. The public coup of having New Wave join the Human Defense Initiative was worth exposing herself to one member of its ranks.

"Iron Man? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Sarah. I agree to your request. I will reveal my identity to you once we have ironed out all of the details on how you'll integrate into the Human Defense Initiative."

There was audible relief in Sarah's voice as she said, "Good. Then I'll see you on Tuesday evening at 7:00 pm."

"Agreed. Iron Man out."

Taylor couldn't keep the grin off her face, even when JARVIS' voice came over her internal speakers, "Miss, are you certain that this is the best path for you to take? Unveiling your identity to yet another individual does up the risk of it becoming public knowledge."

"You know, JARVIS, that would sound a lot more convincing if you hadn't been the one who indicated that New Wave was likely to require a gesture of some type in order to build a level of trust sufficient for them to join. You hit the nail on the head with that one. Unveiling myself to Sarah Pelham is the gesture."

JARVIS sounded contemplative as he said, "You know, Miss, it might not be a terrible idea for you to consider meeting all of the members of New Wave in your civilian identity. It would allow you an outlet for social interactions that is currently lacking despite Miss Trish's best efforts."

Astonished, Taylor accused, "JARVIS, are you trying to set me up one of the members of New Wave? Cause I really don't think that's necessary."

"Actually, I was suggesting becoming friends with some of the more age appropriate members. Then again, the literature suggests that some form of romantic relationship should begin in a human being's midteens. You are currently fifteen years and ten months old. That appears to be the perfect age to experiment with a romantic relationship with a member of the opposite sex. Eric Pelham would be the appropriate age for such a relationship. Not only could it be helpful to your mental health, but it could also help inspire your creative juices."

Taylor couldn't believe what JARVIS was saying. Worse, he sounded serious. He'd read literature on the subject? Not having a real comeback, she merely said, "I'll pass."

"As you say, Miss."

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

Jim carefully shut off the TV with trembling fingers, his emotions all over the place. He felt both the exultation of knowing that a group of the worst of humanity's foes were dead, as well as a sense of uncertainty for the future. He met the eyes of his wife, who looked more than a little scared as well as faintly nauseated. Automatically, he took her hand in his, partially because it helped disguise the shaking of his own as well as because of how much he wanted to reassure her.

Sara asked, "Jim, what's going on? It just feels like the world is going out of control. I mean, I'm glad that the Slaughterhouse Nine is dead, but... Can I say that? That I'm glad someone is dead?"

He nodded without hesitation. "Yeah, baby. In this case, you can. Don't worry, we'll be okay."

Sara spoke hesitantly, "But... you work for that company that Iron Man owns, don't you?"

He hedged, "Indirectly. But what we're doing on the docks isn't exactly news. No, I'm not worried about any gang violence aimed at what I'm doing. I am worried, though, about Danny. He's CEO of HTech and if anyone's at risk, it's him and his girl."

Sara cuddled against his side, making him aware once again how much and why he loved this woman. He slid an arm around her warm shape and squeezed. She whispered, "You're a good man, Jim. You always worry about everyone else. Everyone but you. I want you to make sure to take care of yourself, okay? I don't think I could bear it if something happened to you."

He tenderly stroked the soft skin of her bare shoulder, breathing in the scent of his wife's hair. He would promise her anything. "I'll be careful."

Jim would be careful, because if nothing else, what had been broadcast over the airwaves just now had been a wake up call aimed at Parahumans. If he could see that, so could the city's gangs. They would likely react with typical violence and chaos, and he had no idea who or what they would target.

It was likely most of the violence would be aimed at HTech itself, but some of it might leak out onto the rest of the city. Still, Jim couldn't help the feeling of warmth that filled him when he considered just what the armored cape had accomplished by eliminating the Slaughterhouse Nine. They had terrorized humanity for several years, killing untold numbers, while leaving far too many others to a fate worse than death.

Now they were detritus, their remnants blowing in the wind. Their fate made the threat of the Parahuman gangs a little less fearsome. Because if the gangs reacted with typical violence, some of it aimed at HTech, how exactly would Iron Man react?

Jim suspected that it would not be pretty. Certainly, he would be rooting for the cape that had helped revitalize his city. That had given it jobs and income. After all, he and so many others in the Dockworkers Union owed the fact that they were once again working to Iron Man. To the company, HTech, that was rapidly becoming synonymous with the armored cape.

No matter how tough things got, no one could take that away from them.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

They were seated around the table in the headquarters that had been so carefully carved out of the mountain on this alternate Earth. Legend sat on the same side of the table as Contessa, something which he'd deliberately arranged so that he could watch the expressions on the faces of his friends during the discussion the subject of this meeting was going to generate.

On the other side of the table sat Eidolon and Alexandria, both in costume, although, like him, they were not wearing their masks. Doctor Mother sat at the head of the table, while another sat at the opposite end. After a moment, she carefully wrapped her knuckles on the wooden surface to begin the meeting.

As expected, Alexandria spoke first, "Did anyone expect Iron Man to wipe out the Slaughterhouse Nine?"

Legend noted the way that her eyes swung towards his side of the table, apparently aimed at Contessa, who just shook her head. He did the same thing, as did the remaining members of the meeting.

Contessa spoke next, her tone utterly neutral, "I did mention that I believed Iron Man to be capable of some extremely versatile actions with his technology. The advancements he's made were quite effective in taking down the Slaughterhouse Nine, including those members about which Alexandria raised concerns last time. Armsmaster, while at the press conference, obviously took readings of Iron Man's armor's energy output. He has likely sent those results in report-form to the PRT. What were those readings?"

It was Eidolon who spoke after a quick glance towards Alexandria, "Armsmaster's passive sensors showed an energy generation of more than eighty-five gigawatts. However, this was dwarfed by energy storage that read as one hundred and forty petajoules. He wasn't able to fully analyze the weapons, except to say that they were clearly several orders of magnitude more powerful than the ones used against the Simurgh."

Contessa nodded absently. "Yes, his weapons' outputs were in the petawatt range. That can be extrapolated from their effect upon those members of the Slaughterhouse Nine they were used upon."

Alexandria said, "I am more interested in how Iron Man was able to ID Manton and then use that knowledge to eliminate the Siberian."

The last member of their little meeting spoke up at that point. "I believe that I can shed some light upon that."

Legend glanced over as the Number Man explained, "I believe that Iron Man is using a powerful AI to aid him in information gathering. It is likely the same AI I encountered first in Europe when countering the theft of funds from Gesellschaft. I was successful in preventing the AI from stealing the funds, although it was able to destroy the majority of them electronically instead. I also believe it was the same AI that infiltrated Coil's base and absconded with his money. That time I was unable to deal with him."

Alexandria asked, "Why is that?"

"Because the AI in question had increased its capabilities by an order of magnitude at the very least. He was basically unstoppable. It would be child's play for an AI that capable to run down the Siberian's appearance and its similarities to William Manton's daughter, despite our attempts to remove any images showing her appearance from the net."

Alexandria shook her head. "So now we have Iron Man capable of creating and maintaining an Artificial Intelligence at least the equal of Dragon. He is showing dangerous levels of competence."

Doctor Mother spoke then, "Not to mention the way he dealt with Crawler. Yet another new technology and used in a way that speaks of extreme creativity and competence. The way he dealt with all of the members of the Slaughterhouse Nine was more of the same. Bonesaw's plagues were neutralized. Jack Slash was unable to use whatever abilities he has as regards precognition and Parahuman manipulation. The list goes on and on."

Alexandria asked, "Do we know for sure that he used some form of nanotechnology in dealing with Crawler?"

Contessa shook her head. "No, we do not know for sure, but it is very likely. Nothing else would have been able to so easily overcome Crawler's regenerative abilities, even after being sectioned. After all, such things never worked in the past to destroy him. Even a few cells were enough to regenerate his entire being."

There was a nervousness in Eidolon's voice that was out of character for him as he said, "I am far more concerned with Iron Man's accumulation of capes. He is building a cult of personality around him. New Wave is joining him because-"

Legend decided to jump in at that point and interrupt his friend, "Because they want to protect their kids and Iron Man can help with that. Look, it's human nature to want to do that. He's shown himself to be very generous with his technology when it comes to the members of his team, this new Human Defense Initiative. That's going to be very attractive to a group like New Wave whose kids are also Parahumans. It's also going to appeal to a lot of other groups and individuals as well. We can likely expect a steady erosion of members of the Protectorate to Iron Man's group. Especially after that press conference."

"Yet another reason to act now before it's too late. He's already equipped the Southern Stars with advanced forcefield tech as well as weapons that are at least as powerful as those that are part of the Iron Legionnaires. If we wait too long, we may not be able to take on his group and win." Alexandria's eyes were filled with a worry that was unfamiliar to those who knew her. Legend had never seen her look so upset over things that were discussed in these meetings. Not even when Hero-

Legend glanced away. Maybe sitting here was a mistake. Trying to figure out the motivations of people who were supposed to be his friends. Perhaps he would have been better served getting Eidolon alone and talking to him directly one on one. His train of thought was interrupted by Contessa's cool voice.

"Our mission has not changed. We're here to stop Scion. Iron Man is another tool in our arsenal. We need to use him and see how things come out. We-"

"Is that what your Path to Victory is telling you?" Legend winced at the bitterness in Alexandria's voice as she practically taunted Contessa.

Contessa, on the other hand, appeared imperturbable. "No, it's still working intermittently. Common sense is telling me this. You're a Thinker. What does your ability tell you?"

Alexandria's face was hard. "I've been giving myself migraines trying to figure out Iron Man. Half of the time he comes across as a simple Tinker. Then he does things like this which don't make sense within the context of what I've figured out about his abilities."

"How very interesting." Contessa's tone of one of disinterest, in contrast to her words. She leaned forward and stated, "While we need to remain ready, it is not yet the time to act. For now, we need to sit back and watch how things play out. Whether Iron Man will be able to make a difference remains to be seen. However, I recommend a hand's off policy where he's concerned. He's already shown a very interesting ability to negate us. Me. His move at the press conference was genius. Let's wait and see how these latest acts play out."

For the briefest moment, so brief he wondered if he'd imagined it, the reflection of her eyes touched his own in the polished surface of the stainless steel wall trim separating the wall panels opposite. Regardless, Legend believed he understood the message.

Inevitably, each of their gazes was drawn toward Doctor Mother. She stared back through dark, intelligent eyes. At her nod, the meeting turned to other items on the agenda. Afterward, Legend again considered trying to get Eidolon alone, but in the end, he decided to follow Contessa's advice and wait and see.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~

In the early morning hours in Brockton Bay, all around the city, strange and eerie things began to happen to the dismay of a great many individuals.

Han Lee felt a shiver go down his spine as the long spray of red paint he was using to place an ABB tag on the wall in front of him seemed to just disappear into the brick. Futilely, he sprayed the red paint over and over again to the same result, which was exactly nothing. To his worry, he got the same reaction from the black and green paints he carried as well

Then more of the older tags that someone else had painted on the wall slowly faded away, almost as if evaporating. What the fuck was going on, Han wondered? As freaked out as he felt, there were other, even more serious ramifications. To be sure, Lung was going to be furious at this. He shivered at the thought of facing the Dragon or the other two merciless Parahumans who aided him. Maybe he should just stay home tomorrow and let someone else carry the news in.

At that moment, the bricks in front of him seemed to vibrate, almost like an effect from a movie, and suddenly looked new. Gazing at the fresh, sharp edges of the bricks separated by what looked like freshly laid mortar sent another shiver down his spine. Yes, Han thought, he would definitely stay home tomorrow.

He began to jog home down sidewalks that looked like they had just been poured, instead of the cracked and broken things they'd become, making him break into a sprint. Faster and faster he ran, as the city around him changed for the better.

Was he going mad, Han wondered? The world around him brightened as all of the street lights suddenly began working. Unfortunately, the things they showed him were unsettling to say the least. Was this even his apartment building? Staring at the brand new appearance of the building that he called home, Han wondered if the world had gone mad? How else did the past gain such a grip upon the present?

Han edged into the like-new lobby of his building. All of the cracked and peeling paint was gone, as were the flickering overhead fluorescent tube lights. Now the paint was perfect over smooth and unblemished plaster, while the lights were incandescent bulbs in elegant fixtures attached to the walls, evenly spaced down the long hallways.

With shaking hands, Han pushed his key into the lock on his front door. He crept into the apartment that he shared with half a dozen other people, all of them members of the ABB as well. Han flinched as three different guns were pointed his way held by three different shaking hands.

Fortunately, no one shot him, which he counted as a blessing. Moving to the man he reported to, Han blurted out, "What is going on, Chin?"

Chin scowled uneasily. "I do not know. Maybe it is some kind of magic."

Another boy, barely into his teens, blurted out, "Demons! It is demons who have done this!"

Staring around at the room, where everything from the furnishings to the appliances to the walls and floors looked brand new, Han wasn't so sure the boy was wrong. Although the demons he knew of walked in human form, sometimes taking the forms of dragons, while others were even worse. As his eyes traveled once more over a gleaming white sink, Han felt a chill colder than death deep in his bones. In the end, human or demon, the architect of this particular act was more terrifying than anyone he'd ever encountered.

~~~Memories of Iron~~~