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𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐘'𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐋
𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐓𝐎𝐍, 𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀
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Despite the crowd in the room, no one dared to speak out loud. It was a silence that everyone had accepted with no conversation. The gift of taciturnity was never simple to get but for this one, they would give the rest of infinity.
In this measly hotel room, there were several different characters. Different backgrounds. Different histories. To order, a supersoldier with a weakness to start over. An assassin seeking absolution. An agent with a lost cause. A strong man who had lost his pillar of support. A struggling doctor hellbent on the continuation of life. An arrogant neurosurgeon who turned to mystic arts when medicine failed him. A woman. Just another woman; robbed of love, desire and dreams. Even when hope grew with a tympanic heartbeat inside her, she felt nothing.
And lastly, a man. A simple man with a will to make a change. A man, formerly in a suit, fearing that he would never be enough. Fearing that if he didn't run too far, he would burn the people he cherished.
'My name is Tony and I'm an alcoholic... no. Wait. Wrong meeting.'
No one laughed, even moved a muscle.
'I'm recording this before the last eleven hours of my life. Nice trope, how I'm literally and physically going to be at my eleventh hour.'
The projection from the Iron Maiden's core shifted as he laughed freely. The pixelated video started to glitch a little making Tony rub his hand into his eyes.
'If you're watching, then I'm right. And everything's gone too awry. But, if you're also watching, things are about to go too right. Because... Margaret Stark, I know it's you. Give this to mommy or I'll call JARVIS on you.'
Every pair of eyes fell on the weak woman who stood at the end of the room. She sunk into herself, despising attention for the first time. She watched Tony as he waved at the camera with a stern, playful smile.
'If this isn't Margo, well, great. It's you guys. Uh, persistent vegetative state, huh? I called it. Let's be honest, I am—kinda always—right. So assembled in this room are the people who have the know-how to bring me back. The drive X included. But here's the thing—do you want me back?'
Steve broke out a long sigh.
'No dramatism here. What happened, happened and it happened because it had to. That's it. No turning back. The past is a prologue now. Listen, I ran a good race. Had a great life, met a beautiful girl and fell in love. Kind of wish I lived the daddy life. Had some of the best associates I could ever ask for. There were hiccups but what's being a hero without it? We die heroes. This is it. Dying is a superhero retirement plan.'
