I wanted a different approach on Gene's story because, honestly, one story can be told in a million different ways.
Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man: Armored Adventures or any of the characters appearing in the show…
Howard Stark gazed out of the window of his office, taking in the sight of the city's skyline as the setting sun bathed it a golden and bronze color. But he watched without really seeing, his mind was already being occupied by heavy thoughts.
As the director of Stark International, he had to keep many things in mind. From business, investments, inventions, to other, more special things. Howard smiled to himself briefly. Not so long ago he had found out that his son – Tony – was the famous Iron Man and that his friends – Rhody and Pepper – were War-Machine and Rescue. And that left him with a sense of pride and worry.
Tony was his only son and, just like his father, he was an inventor.
Howard had vowed not to make weapons anymore, to not make anything that could be used to hurt people and ruin their lives. He had realized that making weapons was the same as using them for the purpose they were made for – destruction. He didn't want that. He didn't want to cause people pain. When Tony was born – he realized how preserving life, rather than destroying it would save so many from suffering. He wanted a good life for Tony and Tony needed a good role model. One who didn't make weapons that would be used to destroy – one who bettered people's lives with his inventions.
And now, when Tony had taken a path full of so many dangers to help the innocent people of the world, Howard couldn't help but feel proud of his son.
But, it could have been different – much, much more different.
It was so easy to be led astray, so easy to lose yourself and forget who you once were when there is no one to guide you. When there are no lights to light the way, you could easily get lost in the darkness.
When Tony had thought that his father had been killed he was sad, and angry. Anger could easily cloud one's judgment. And, be it fate or coincidence, Tony had became a hero, just as Gene had became the villain. When Gene had become the Mandarin, the same chain of events caused Tony to become Iron Man.
Howard sighed; maybe, he could have changed that chain of events. Gene Khan was, when you looked at it, just another abused child. Child, the word sounded so innocent and frail. Child, like his Tony. And children needed guidance before it was time to make their own choices. He knew Tony could have ended up like Gene.
They were similar in quite a few things. Both of them lost something – Gene had lost his mother and Tony had thought he had lost him, his father. Both boys knew – or rather thought they knew – who was to blame for their loss. And both wanted revenge on the person who cost them something so precious.
But that's when things took different turns, Gene was young when he lost his mother, he wasn't allowed to heal – not then, not now. Zhang had only poured salt on the boy's wounds, dug them deeper then they previously were. Made sure Gene knew how helpless and alone he really was.
But Tony, well, Tony had his friends to help him. They were the ones who kept him from falling into his own darkness while Gene was pushed into it, left to free-fall with the knowledge that no one would catch him, that no one would take the time to guide him out of the darkness.
Howard sighed again, he was so busy worrying for his own life that he hadn't noticed how broken Gene really was.
Gene thought he was alone, because, indeed, he was alone. No one had ever proved him otherwise. No one saw beneath the illusion Gene had made his daily life be. People simply didn't care to look twice. They were ignorant, just as Howard once was. They didn't think about the consequences, they didn't care about them if they didn't affect them.
There was always a reason for things to be the way they were, people to be in the state of mind which they were in and for people to make the choices they made. Every choice effected everything and everyone bound by it in any way possible. And for everything that happened, be it yesterday, today or tomorrow – there were always consequences. That was how it came to this.
A chain of events... Just a simple chain of events caused this!
Zhang had made a monster by leading Gene on a path of loss, sorrow and ultimately – hatred. When Gene had finally broken, he didn't show it. He silently picked up the pieces and started to put them back in place. But he couldn't, the pieces and shards were jagged and uneven. Many didn't fit in with the others, many were missing and many were never even there to begin with.
Zhang made a monster out of a small, innocent child, but Gene - Gene made something better. He made a hero. If Gene had never kidnapped Howard Stark, Iron Man would have never came to be.
Howard felt a pang of guilt. Gene had kidnapped him and threatened to kill him but... There was something Howard didn't understand. Gene knew his way around the temples; he often didn't need Howard's help. So the question was – why take him?
It occurred to Howard that Gene had never killed a person, at some point in his captivity. Gene was lost, silently crying out for help but those cries always fell on deaf ears. But in time, Gene realized no one would answer, he had stopped hoping long, long before he had kidnapped Stark. Howard had had a chance to somehow help Gene, and he wasted it by worrying about himself.
He saw Gene as a psychopath then, not as just an abused seventeen-year-old teenager that he was.
Howard shook his head. A chain of events... That's all it took – either to destroy or create a life. And one simple deed could have changed that.
It could have steered it in another direction. One that could, maybe, fix the damage that had been done.
But no one had done that deed; they had simply left it to happen. Left an already broken mind to crumble under its' own weight.
Howard realized something a long time ago. If you made a weapon, you were equally responsible for the damage and ruined lives it caused as the one who used it to do so. And just like that, if you knew you could have done something to help someone who needed that help and yet sat back and let it happen – it was the same as doing it yourself.
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