Forget civil war, Iâll fight antis all day about Tony being completely right in AOU đ¤
Like, think about it from his perspective, which no one seems to do. New York happens- youâre laughably overwhelmed. Gods descended from space and are now raging wars in your skies. Theyâve got an army the likes of which youâve never seen. They keep coming in like flies and New Yorkâs so big. Youâre only six people. Soon enough your mere mortal flesh and blood will tire because youâre as human as the people youâre saving, not the ones doing the savingâ and a Hail Mary comes. In the form of the fucking nuke. One they fired on you. Thatâs how you save them. With a nuke that never shouldâve been fired. Wouldnât have been fired if they had even an inch more of humanity.
Youâre never the same afterwards.
You watch the mothership come alight. Space is quiet, youâre nothing but this realisation- this is the beginning. This is the army they sent when they thought Earth would be childâs play, no thereâs no need to send in the big guns. Itâll be stupidly easy- they didnât even know we fucking existed.
Somehow you live to tell the tale. And you tell it. Again and again. Honey, I canât sleep. How do you plan on beating that? But hereâs the thing- Steve was almost brought down by Hydra. Fury is safer playing dead. Aldrich blows up your home. We canât even fucking handle painfully human threats. Not without almost losing, almost always, saved by dumb fucking luck. How the fuck are you gonna handle whatâs coming?
Could be tomorrow, always could be tomorrow. Youâd never even know.
Ultron was supposed to be the answer.
There is always a question you need to answer, as a scientist. Should you? Itâs not an answer youâve always bothered with. But Ultronâs different, it could be so different. Could be the difference between nothing and everything.
Youâre not really even trying to be the hero, not trying to be the one who saves the day. You donât care who saves it. But it needs to be saved.
It becomes awfully clear no oneâs trying to.
When Ultron leaves, Thor has you by the throat. Thor, who you considered a friend. A good friend, perhaps the one who would accept it first. Heâs seen many a carnage, many conquests. He would understand needing a trump card. An ace. He does not.
You feel like Cassandra. Telling the prophecy, what Wanda showed you- that was not a nightmare. Youâd know, youâve had hundreds of them. That was a possibility. That was the future. No one believes it. Of course not. Steve did not see what you saw. Steve did not see the dark vastness alight. Steve did not see the force waiting for them outside, the challenge theyâve already answered. Steve did not lie awake at night, thinking nothing but itâs coming itâs coming itâs coming itâs COMINGâ
(You donât think itâs PTSD, not really. Itâs real. Itâs coming. Thatâs not paranoia.)
They defeat him. Of course they do. Regardless of what they think, Tony knows what heâs doing. Vision was what Ultron was supposed to be. Who cares about that? Sokovia is dead. Thatâs on him. Thereâs so much blood at his feet itâs up to his neck.
You think of a world where youâd answered, I shouldnât. Sokovia alive, blessed with Charlie Spencer. No Ultron, no armour around the world. Deep in your heart, it chokes you. Itâs thorns around your chest. There is no such world. Youâd have to be dead. No world where you choose to not try.
Truth is this, the odds are against you, all of you. You have to play whatever hands youâre dealt. Try to make the best choice. Vision was the best choice. Ultron was once the best choice. You couldnât have made another one then, leave Earth defenceless for the sake of a what if
People always die when you try to end a war before it starts. But how do you know if they die less if you try to end it long after itâs started? Long after itâs out of your hands? Long after gods have played their cards and youâre the mortal, helpless to only watch? Only react to whatâs been coming for decades? Who are the fools then? Who takes on that?
In the end, of course, it doesnât matter. Thanos tears you apart like paper. You know Vision hadnât been enough. Ultron probably wouldnât have been. You never had a chance at all. Sokovia couldâve been spared by you, Charlie couldâve lived.
For perhaps a year or two. Before Thanos killed them anyway.
(There exists perhaps the theory of vindication, lost in the endless depth of space. In the quietness of his mind, after Thanos took everything that made him, left only the viciousness at the end. The numbness. The greek tragedy. Youâre not the only one cursed with knowledge. You hadnât thought much of it at the time, too busy tasting a moon on your teeth. All these years, of blame and vitriol and edge of insanity, and Thanos is the one to acknowledge it. To see it for what it is, finally. Tony wasnât crazy, had never been crazy. He was right. Something was coming and someone had to do something for it. It didnât work, but you still had to try. Even if you knew it wouldnât work. Thatâs what makes him the fool of this fable. To know the end, but try anyway. Thatâs what would have always been his story. There is no other ending.)
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