Ascendancy

Chapter 9

        Total quiet. Red tendrils swirl, grasping their tender arms around a glowing object at its core. Glass shatters and then the explosion. The silence is broken. Millions of lives crack at their core and are torn to a heavenly place. Screams fill the air in a resounding wail. All is chaos. The broken lay on white pallets, warm blood melting into the fabric. A brown face fills the screen, imperfections close and sweat spread in little dots on their skin.

        I shut the computer. It's too much, and my insides twist. Poor Wanda.

        Scrolling through the slew of articles on the ipad does little to help.

        Was it Barnes?

        Have the Avengers Abandoned us?

        Hide your kids: Wanda Maximoff may be loose

        These people have no idea what they are talking about.

        I hadn't expected this tide of words and lies to overflow my screen. It was simple curiosity that drove me to look up "The Avengers". I hoped any blanks may be filled in. All I have found are burns.

        Despite my better judgement, I look up Tony Stark. I want to see what these people are saying of him. I don't even bother looking up Steve. Its obvious what they would say.

        I scroll through several articles on the civil war, where Tony is now, his work with the government, and gossip on his relationship with business mogul Pepper Potts. The screen lights up with so many scribbles that they begin to blur before my eyes.

        After a while, I reach articles from weeks ago. One particular column talks of a convention where Stark had given away millions in grants to young genius'. I let out a scoff. This man- the one who tore the Avengers apart from the inside out- could be generous? What a good facade.

        I click on it just to mock. I merely skim over the words until there is a clear picture of a white room. Funiture it blunt and everything is made from the same white material. Stark stands in front of it, with arms spread open before him. In his fingers dangling thick frame glasses. My interest sparks. I read:

        Mr. Stark exhibited his own pet project at the convention: BARF. These simple looking glasses actually tap into the hippocampus to help redo traumatic memories. A 611 million dollar project, few people would be willing to fund it unless the now billionaire did it himself. The epitome of his message is showed through these glasses: Even if you're broke, you can now make anything you fancy!

        I immediately stop reading. It takes me a whole minute to entirely process the excitement. With a jump/gasp, I run out of one of the smaller rec rooms where I had been sitting (there are several computers and electronics for entertainment). My legs don't know what to do with all the energy and excitement running through me, so an odd skip and run commences.

        "Steve!" I gasp. "Look at this." He is sitting at the desk in his room, and I place my tablet on the counter top. I point to the section. When Steve sees Stark, he stiffens, as if expecting anything to do with Stark must be trouble.

        His eyes scan the page hurriedly. When we finishes, Steve asks, "So, what?"

        "This Steve! This!" I point to the glasses on Stark's face. "Those glasses accesses the hippocampus to hyjak traumatic memories. This could be just what Bucky needs!" I try to stay calm, but I can tell exuberance just leaks from my voice.

        Steve stares at Starks picture. He says slowly, "I don't think Stark would just lend us those."

        I know Tony and Steve had their fight, but that metal arm must be proof that Stark still cares for the team. While I'm still uncertain if he's a jerk or not, I don't know him or his motivations. If he gave us those spectacles, I would definitely know then that he must not be a bad guy.