CHAPTER THIRTEEN- July 2038

Tony couldn't really focus on just one piece of the globe below, a vast marble rippled with land and sea, oasis and desert, life and death. The Avengers Satellite Station had launched only six years ago; it had taken that long to recover his wits and the integral structure that had exploded with…Pepper. This orbiting bulk was the reason her Memorial Garden had taken so long to build, and his mourning was the reason this orbiting bulk had taken another half-dozen years.

Orbit had its advantages, however, because it's easier to notice a massive, red sinkhole leading to hell when staring down upon it. They may have never seen Mephisto coming from inside the Earth if not for being able to view a thousand miles within the space of an arm against the thick, triple pane fiberglass. That didn't prepare Tony for who he would, and wouldn't, see down there. Ever since Wanda had cut him off from such vivid experiences with Pepper, Tony lost so many of the minuscule details that kept her feeling real, kept her close to him. The delayed slipping away of his memory felt all the more tragic, for he had truly lost Pepper Potts long before he gave up on her. Loss seemed as inevitable as the rotation of the Earth below. You could change perspective to keep seeing what you wanted, but the surface would never stop moving away from your gaze.

Tony could sense a tentative presence at the door. He dropped his crossed, contemplative arms, turning to invite Maria inside. "What is it, Hill?"

The agent entered, holding up a slim file.

"It's from the watch list. He was first mentioned in our interrogation of Simon Marshall, a pharmaceutical terrorist trying to create an ingestible drug to produce super soldiers…and he managed to alter several people. The unfortunate side effect was also to turn them into psychopaths."

"To be fair, he probably just nudged them there," Tony allowed. "Gimme." He snatched the file from the agent. "Lem-u-el Dor-cas?" he snorted. "That is officially one of the worst names I've ever heard. It's not even a syllable—it's a letter away from Doctor Dorks. Are people trying to make us not take them seriously? What's this guy done that's so bad, eh?"

"He may have been behind the stolen shipment of bio-samples last year."

"Two letters away from Dork-Ass. I mean…come on. At least Kleau could be, ya know," Tony looked up with outstretched fingers on an ominously tense hand, "scary, sorta."

"Stark, this doctor has not only been linked to Professor Marshall but has also been linked to some created mutants. Unfortunately we do not have much information on those individuals or their abilities yet. We only know these were not given a little pill. Best guess so far is genetic manipulation."

Tony shut the file and tossed it onto the nearest table. "Easy. Have Point Break electrocute him and send me the crispy bits. Next." He looked around the lab, pushing some useless part over.

"That's the thing, sir. Thor is currently off world helping the Guardians with annihilation—" she checked the file, "—Annihilus, 'scuse me, so you're going to take the lead on this—"

"Are we trapped down there?" Tony gestured back to the view-ports.

Maria, after years of practice, snapped back and forth between Tony's mangled thoughts easily. "We have protection, sir, more than most. You've put quite a bit of armor around the world now."

"Yes, but how will people get away," Tony whispered, "if I've locked them on a dying rock."

"Sir?"

Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. Build a wall and moat to keep the enemy out, and still all you've done is kept your loved ones in the crosshairs and the target on your forehead. He thought of a promise he once made Pepper. "Hill, why didn't you have kids," he blurted after a bright area in Florida caught his eye on the dark side of the Earth. Maria replied with a touchy and annoyed expression. He continued, "if you'd had children, at what age would Disneyland be out of the question?"

Maria hesitated, confused, but Tony did not let her form an answer before trying to dismiss the wayward thought. "Nevermind."

"Sir, Sam may not—"

"So Dorkmeister-Flex is where exactly now?"

"The bad doctor was last credibly identified in Morocco. The Atlantian King Namor is concerned at that proximity to his nation."

"So what you're saying is I get to go on a lovely vacation and possible Safari hunt?"

"Stark—"

"Don't worry. I won't raid the mini-bar this time." Tony launched into the air and via comms added, "and keep the missions coming. Friday will keep a running tab."

"Of course, sir," his AI promptly answered.

"Tony," Maria jumped in before Stark could swivel quickly out of the room and ditch the station's monotony, "Sam Wilson woke up."

"Duh," Tony brushed, tapping his glasses, "Friday is keeping me apprised."

"And I'd say she's too old."

"I update her regularly."

"Samantha, Tony, for Disney," Maria clarified, but Tony didn't miss a beat.

"On second thought," he said, "I think Thor and Quill may need some adult supervision. You know how their pissing contests can get," he twiddled his fingers in front of him, "messy."

She held up the file, wiggling it to keep him on track.

"T'Challa can handle that, land and sea united and all. I'm contacting—what did Quill call this new ship?—Blondie?" Tony disappeared in the space-safe, modified quinjet. He had a fleeting thought that perhaps he should make a pitstop on Sakaar and take a break from the relentless passage of time. Time that only served to remind him of what he'd missed and could never have back.