Hey! Sorry! Long time no see! Enough introductions, on with the chapter!
There is little left of Stark Hall, after all's said and done.
It kinda feels like overdue karma. He's changed a lot since the damn cave, both for good and ill, but even if he's now considered a hero – and perhaps it's narcissistic, but for the most part he'd agree – the fact of the matter remains that, for upwards of a decade, he not only allowed but tacitly supported, through his general disinterest in the business and the ignored-yet-logical consequences of letting loose his deadly inventions, his company becoming the primary purveyor of killing machines for bad guys the world over. It wasn't just the Ten Rings that Stane dealt with – Stark Industries illegally sold weapons to criminals, terrorists, despots, and shady paramilitary groups in pretty much every continent save Antarctica while he banged his way through Maxim's cover models. Even legally, he enabled the prevalence of deadly conflicts by supplying armaments to various nations.
Merchant of Death, indeed.
He's tried his best to atone for it, of course. And it's not just through the suit, either; he's raised up the Maria Stark Foundation from a forgotten instrument of barely legal tax shenanigans to a prestigious organization that basically pays for any property damage caused in the course of heroism, whether the Avengers are involved or not. He's set a significant portion of SI's lobbyist legions to fighting tooth and nail for progressive causes like countering climate change and social inequality. He's made sure – mostly through Pepper, obviously, he has no mind for paperwork – that every single employee of Stark Industries has a livable wage and benefits from their unparalleled success, and that their products are affordable, eco-friendly, and make some kind of positive impact on the world.
He's still got more money than he could ever need, billion-dollar suits and all, but y'know. Big, solid steps nonetheless.
Regardless, standing here in the smoldering remains of a not insignificant part of his legacy definitely feels like the universe is maybe trying to tell him something.
"I have detected an anomaly." –JARVIS announces, snapping him out of the spiral.
"Can't say I'm surprised." –he mutters. "Something about this stinks, and it's not the noxious mix of burned chemicals. Helmet filters those out."
"I am well aware of that, Sir." –the AI retorts, sarcastically. "Head to this nav point. There appears to be a disturbance in the fire suppression system."
He trudges through the mounds of fused metal, melted plastics, and smoldering cinders, stopping short of the nav point; it's right by something of a clearing he knows all too well, where Professor Callaghan died. There's little evidence of him left, his body removed an hour or so earlier – only some charred bits of what might be clothing or carbonized flesh in the vague shape of a human mark the spot where his mentor died. He stares mournfully – he's hardly a stranger to corpses, of course, but there's always been a barrier of sorts between him and death. He doesn't always kill, but when he does, they're murderers, rapists, terrorists, or some combination of horrific deeds that makes them, in his eyes, irredeemable – something that can justify him taking a life, allowing him to stare at the inevitable result of unleashing his awe-inspiring power on frail human bodies with a sobering sense that's equal parts sorrow, satisfaction, and responsibility.
With this, though…Callaghan was such a good man. He revolutionized the field of robotics, of course, setting whole generations on the path to making the world a better place. It really wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that he was partially responsible for the creation of Iron Man – all of the armor's joints, which allow for practically 1:1 natural human movement, are derived from Stark Industries' peerless robotic prosthetics, which in turn were inspired by Callaghan's own inventions and discoveries. But even beyond his work, Robert always had a kind word and an open ear for his students, prodigies or otherwise. It was such an incredible loss for MIT when he decided to join SFIT that the former practically begged him to stay, but the old man knew that he'd be needed at the fledging university – to give it the prestige and seniority it'd need to establish itself from nothing.
Yeah. Robert Callaghan was a good man. And now he's dead, because Tony specifically chose not to save him. He's not even sure the young man he saved in Callaghan's stead will pull through – the Repulsor blast that saved him from certain death also broke a handful of ribs, caused internal bleeding, and collapsed his left lung, on top of all the burns and cuts he sustained from the explosion. He knows he did the right thing, but…well, a tiny little voice in the back of his mind can't help but second-guess his choice.
Tony purposefully stops JARVIS from scanning the spot, walking around it. He'd rather not know the details.
Just a few feet away, the nav point rests over a fuse box-looking device – one of the terminals controlling the fire suppression system for the hall. Like everything else around it, it's been damaged by the fire, but it's hard to miss what JARVIS has directed him towards: a barely noticeable cut on the side of the sensor cable feeding into the system. It's small, but deep enough that it must have severed the threaded metal within.
Stark hums. "Any chance this is from one of the explosions?"
"No, Sir. The cut is too clean, and there is no evidence of any fragment impacting the area around it."
"Tap in, Jay, run me a diagnostic."
The system was designed by Redfield Electronics, a company he's unfamiliar with. A cursory search reveals that they're fairly prestigious in this line of work, and looking through the code and what materials survived the fire, he can tell they're high quality, which is to be expected of something that would keep a place like Stark Hall safe. No system is 100% safe from errors and failure, of course, but it's rather preposterous that a well-designed and well-maintained system such as this would fail so catastrophically.
They move on to the next terminal; there's four of them in the building, one for each side, and they find the same kind of barely noticeable cut in all but one, which was completely destroyed by the fire. They backtrack to the place the fire started; JARVIS determines that it began with a heavy-duty prosthetic that was set to clap during the whole event with twice the force of a human clap – a stress-test of sorts, if a rather unorthodox one. He remembers seeing it – thought it was quaint, but figured the materials were too expensive for the kind of work its inventor intended for it.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I'm afraid this was likely sabotage."
"It sure is lookin' like it." –he mutters. "Tap the camera feeds, let's see what we've got."
"I've already tried, but the recordings for the past 72 hours are gone, remotely deleted using a poorly written but effective homebrew virus that also damaged the system." –JARVIS reports, as a call comes in. "…my attempt also alerted campus security, which I believe may be the reason Professor Granville is currently attempting to reach you."
Tony sighs. "Well, at least their cybersecurity isn't completely useless." –he says, making his way out of the smoldering ruins. Outside, police and firemen have set up a perimeter around the hall, and a few news crews point their cameras at him, swiftly blocked by a handful of city cops and campus security. Granville approaches him, followed by San Francisco's Chief of Police, a man by the name of Diego Cruz.
Neither of them looks very happy with him, so Tony keeps the helmet on.
"Mr. Stark." –Granville says. "I distinctly remember asking you to forward any information requests regarding this incident to me. Care to explain why campus security tells me a very pleasant robot butler apologized for hacking into our camera feeds?"
"Sorry, Sir. They seemed quite confused." –JARVIS privately supplies. Tony tries not to sigh.
"Yeah, sorry about that." –he says, not the least bit sorry. "I just wanna get through this thing already, and I don't have the time to wait around for your clearance. People to see, bad guys to blow to kingdom come, you know how it is."
"Typical superhero type." –Chief Cruz says, clearly disgusted. "Think you can steamroll all over everyone else on the pretext of getting shit done, huh?"
Tony smirks. "Why yes, Chief Cruz, that's exactly where I was going with this. Thank you for spelling it out for me." –he drawls.
"Listen here, you little shit—" –the man begins, incensed, but Granville holds her hand up.
"This accomplishes nothing. I don't care about whatever petty rivalry you gentlemen want to foster, I care that part of my school burned down, and a dearly beloved member of our community lost his life in the process." –she says, harsh.
"He didn't lose it. It was taken." –Tony says, barely contained fury in his filtered voice. "This was arson, Professor."
To her credit, Granville doesn't look too surprised. Neither does Chief Cruz, but he does put on a skeptical front. "That's a bold claim. Got anything to back it up?"
Of course he likes me better when I'm doing his job for him, Tony thinks. JARVIS sends the files to their e-mails then, taking the cue. "Cut wires, quality equipment failing catastrophically, missing video files…" –Tony trails off. "Seems like a bit of a rush job, but whoever did this was thorough enough not to leave much of a trail."
Chief Cruz grunts, turning to Professor Granville. "And you're sure the school has no enemies that could've done this? No disgruntled students or underpaid faculty?"
"As I told you before, Chief Cruz, no, not to my knowledge. Always some issue or another, but nothing that would remotely warrant something like this." –she says, a hard edge to her tone.
"I apologize, ma'am, but these questions have to be asked." –he says. "As this is now confirmed to be a criminal investigation, SFPD will be taking over the crime scene and all related materials. Mr. Stark, that means your services are no longer required." –he says, derisively. "I'd advise you to vacate my crime scene before I decide to add evidence tampering to your – I'm sure – very lengthy rap sheet."
"Sure, sure, try to jail a veritable national treasure, see where that gets you." –he smirks sarcastically. "No worries, officer, I already scanned and 3D-imaged your oh-so-holy crime scene down to the molecular level; we'll see who gets to the bottom of this little Agatha Christie shindig first, yeah?"
It's a bit of a bluff – it's not like his scans are magic, they can't reverse time to show him what happened at the scene of the crime, or anything like that, and he certainly doesn't have the forensic training needed to interpret evidence, but JARVIS, the telemetry he's gathered, and unfettered access to the Internet should make up for some, if not most of those shortcomings.
Chief Cruz huffs. "I'd remind you that vigilante action is a crime pretty much everywhere that isn't New York, but you'd just dribble more meaningless snark at me, I'm sure." –he says, sarcastically, then shrugs. "Do whatever you want, Stark. Just don't be surprised if you find yourself refamiliarized with the back of a police cruiser sooner rather than later."
The man walks off, presumably about to give some kind of statement to the press. "I see that so very charming need of yours to antagonize every figure of authority within a dozen miles remains safely intact, despite your turning a new leaf." –Granville says. "I will have to echo Chief Cruz's message, however: please don't obstruct this investigation in any way, Tony."
The faceplate finally lifts. "Relax, I'm just yanking his chain – not exactly in the mood for fresh legal proceedings, I can tell you that. Maybe I'll do some digging on my own time, but…I honestly doubt Iron Man will be needed for this."
"Indeed." –Granville says, somewhat apprehensive. "But perhaps there is somewhere Tony Stark should be right now."
Tony's expression sours. "I really don't think they'll want me anywhere near them, Professor." –he says. "I know I wouldn't even wanna look at the person who shot my kid."
"So your self-loathing streak is as strong as ever, too." –Granville reposes. "You realize that shooting Mr. Hamada saved his life, yes? We all saw it, Tony – half a second more, and young Tadashi would've certainly perished."
Tony crosses his arms. It's surprisingly difficult, with the suit, but he manages. "That's what the telemetry said, sure. But those numbers don't mean a lot after seeing him covered in blood and burns, struggling to breathe."
"You kill people on a regular basis, Tony." –Granville says, blunter than she's ever been. "If you cannot bear staring the specter of death in the face in the course of saving a life, then you have no business playing executioner to the criminals unfortunate enough to cross your path."
He recoils a bit, armor and all. He feels fifteen again, much too young for college, way too smart for his own good, mere devastating moments after getting dressed down by her for talking over her lecture – and getting the answer wrong, at that.
Her gaze softens somewhat as she takes in his stone-faced expression. "I don't mean to judge. I can't presume to know what I would do with that kind of power, and the responsibility it entails." –she says. "I simply mean to point out that, whether you like it or not, you became involved in the life of Tadashi Hamada the moment you chose to save him. You have a duty to follow up; perhaps his family will forbid you from doing anything else, or worse, actively campaign against you, as you fear. But I believe you'll find gratitude in place of the rancor you expect."
St. Francis Memorial Hospital doesn't allow weapons in its premises, concealed or otherwise; despite his cajoling insistence that the suit is a mobility assistance device (which almost worked in a globally televised Senate hearing, if it weren't for that meddling Senator Stern), the unimpressed head nurse and visibly nervous security guard that stop him at the entrance make it very clear that, much like the good Senator (and, admittedly, every branch of the US Military), they very much consider the suit to be a weapon.
So, the suit stays parked right outside. Biometrically locked and actively monitored by JARVIS, of course, not that it matters to the crowd already gathering around it to take a selfie.
The nurse, at least, directs him towards the intensive care unit, where Tadashi is being treated. He's obviously not supposed to know, but a quick look by JARVIS tells him the full diagnosis: six broken ribs, a fractured sternum, a collapsed left lung (mercifully not pierced), burst eardrums, a number of serious lacerations from broken glass and debris, a fractured skull from the violent landing after the blast, and of course, second and third degree burns over 35% of his body. Tadashi is currently in a medically-induced coma, a precaution meant to prevent his brain from swelling due to his head injury; it's a scary thing to read, but despite the grave condition, he's at least stable and the prognosis is cautiously optimistic.
"Mr. Stark?"
Tony blinks, the data feed on his custom sunglasses fading to reveal the boys' legal guardian, Cass Hamada. According to the file JARVIS prepared for him, the thirty-six-year-old woman – and youngest of three sisters – is the boys' maternal aunt, who took custody of them when her middle sister, Emi Hamada, perished alongside her husband in a terrible lab accident at the LIFE Foundation, some eleven years back. Tony, admittedly, was somewhat curious about her last name, given her Caucasian appearance and lacking resemblance to her Japanese-American nephews, but there's little mystery to it – she simply had her last name legally changed to match Hiro and Tadashi's shortly after taking them in, likely trying to give them some semblance of familiarity after such a terrible tragedy.
This poor family's a magnet for trouble, Tony laments. "…hi." –Tony says, taking off the shades. For once, his motor mouth fails him as he takes in the bruises under Miss Hamada's eyes and her disheveled state – clearly, the woman hasn't had a wink of sleep since the showcase went down in flames.
"Did you…come to check on Tadashi?" –she ventures.
"That's right." –he says. "…if, y'know, that's okay."
She frowns for a second, seemingly confused, then her features smooth somewhat. "Oh, no. I mean, yes, it's okay. More than okay, Mr. Stark." –she says, offering a tiny smile. "You did save his life, after all."
He doesn't know what to say, for a moment. "I very nearly didn't." –he manages, after a rather pregnant pause. "A fraction of a percent more power behind that blast, and I might've burned clean through his chest. I won't lie to you, we got very lucky there."
"The doctor said the same thing, actually." –she says. "He was…not very happy with you."
"That makes two of us." –he says. "…honestly surprised it isn't three."
She hums. "I mean…I guess if I hadn't been there, I might've been pissed at you." –she muses. "But we saw everything, and it's pretty clear that…well, the explosion would've definitely killed him if you hadn't blasted him clear in the nick of time. Honestly, I was surprised to see you fly out of it, it was so violent."
The suit shrugged off the explosion no problem – he's reasonably confident he could survive a point-blank nuclear explosion thanks to the synth-vibranium plating he's using now, not that he's eager to test that out – but he still nods, acknowledging her concern. "Thank you, but don't worry – the suit can take a lot more punishment than that."
"I'm glad. I don't suppose you sell, like, an aluminum paper version? I wish I could wrap my kids in that stuff…" –Miss Hamada sighs, taking a seat on a nearby plastic chair. "Anyway I, uh…I know about Professor Callaghan, too." –she says. "Tadashi knew he was still in there – that's why he ran in to help. Professor Granville told me they found his body in the wreckage – that you, um…couldn't save him because of the explosion. Not hard to figure out you were forced to make a pretty horrible choice."
He doesn't say anything, just tries his best not to think about how easy the choice was, despite how much the old man meant to him. "For what's it worth, I'm glad you chose Tadashi." –she says. "It'll be a long time till he's back on his feet, but…well, he has so much more to give to the world, y'know? And Hiro's lost so much already, too…" –she says, hollow. "After his parents…I don't know if he could've coped with losing Tadashi. I know I couldn't."
"Is he okay? I got a split-second glimpse of the kid running after Tadashi." –he asks.
"Yeah, he's okay. He got blasted back a few feet when the hall exploded, but he was far enough that he only got a few scrapes and bruises." –she says.
"That's good." –he says, relieved. "I'm not entirely sure how it'll be handled because I don't really handle my own money most of the time, these days, but you don't need to worry about Tadashi's treatment." –he all but blurts out. "We'll foot the bills. We can even transfer him to a better hospital, if you'd like."
"O-oh, yes, a rep from the Stark Foundation already called us, just a couple hours after Tadashi was admitted." –she says. "Thank you, honestly. I make a decent living with the café, but…well, let's just say I would've had to tighten the belt a notch or three with these hospital bills. I don't suppose the Avengers are in the business of lobbying for universal healthcare?" –she jokes.
A bit of tension ebbs from his shoulders – it's silly, but he was more stressed about meeting Cass Hamada than he was about duking it out with Vanko at the Expo. "I don't think so, no. But y'know, supervillain attacks getting more frequent and whatnot…maybe we should be." –he says.
"Well, if Captain America runs for president on that platform someday, let him know he has my vote, heh." –she says, crossing her arms. "Would you…like to see them?"
Tony resists the wince that naturally starts to form. "…no, not today. Maybe later, once Tadashi's recovered enough." –he says. "I know you don't blame me, but I'd like to apologize for hurting him, all the same."
"Oh, Mr. Stark…I really wish you wouldn't blame yourself." –she says, morose. "It's not like you're the one who started the fire."
Tony's eyebrow rises. "Interesting choice of words, there." –he notes.
Ms. Hamada's eyes widen. "Oh, I…sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." –she admits. "I guess you're literally a superhero, though, so maybe it's okay to say? It's just, the Chief of Police called me earlier. He, um…he said they suspect the fire wasn't an accident. Arson, y'know?"
"I see." –he says, somewhat surprised that Chief Cruz already told her about their suspicions. "They have any idea who it might've been?"
She sighs. "No, nothing yet. Probably somebody who attended the showcase, they figure, but that's not much better than a hunch." –she says, a bit deflated. "I hope they're wrong. I just can't imagine a reason to burn down the place. If it's an accident, sure – just another unlucky day for the Hamada family, I guess. But if it was intentional…" –she trails off. "I'm a very forgiving person, but I don't think I could handle that."
Tony hums, noncommittally. "Anyone else know?"
Miss Hamada shakes her head. "No. Chief Cruz told me I could tell Hiro, if I really wanted to, but I don't wanna burden him with that kind of knowledge. He's very…reckless."
Reminds me of someone, he thinks. "You're afraid he might try to do something about it." –he says. Or maybe afraid he'll succeed.
She gives him a helpless look. "I don't know. Geniuses and their self-destructive tendencies, y'know?"
Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of blue and black distracts him. He pauses, staring at the spot, but there's nothing there. He ultimately snorts. "Trust me, I know."
She smirks, mirthlessly. "He was shilling mobsters out of their hard-earned blood money just a few months ago – underground bot-fighting, he's really good at it." –she explains. "Tadashi and Professor Callaghan helped put him on the right path, y'know? Tempted him with all the nerdy goodness at SFIT. Then the Microbot project took over his life and, well, you kinda know the rest."
"He seems like a good kid. Good head on his shoulders, mobsters notwithstanding." –Tony says. "I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."
"Hmm. Here's hoping. Hey, um…do you think…?" –she trails off.
He raises an eyebrow. She winces. "I don't want to presume."
"Presume away." –he shrugs. "Pretty sure we've already talked more than I've ever spoken to Hawkeye, so we're practically best friends."
She chuckles. "It's just, I was wondering if you might consider looking into it. The case, I mean." –she says. "It's not that I don't trust the police, but…well, they have their limits."
"Usually there for a reason. The kind you really need to enforce." –he points out. "But I don't disagree."
"They don't care." –she blurts out. "I could see it in the eyes of the officer who took my statement. And I don't mean that they're completely heartless, but…Tadashi's just one victim. Barely moves the needle when it comes to crime in a city as big and crazy as San Francisco. I'm sure they'll do their jobs, but…well, I imagine it's hard to go above and beyond for a statistic."
"You think I can do better?" –he asks, surprised. "I'm not lacking for resources, that's for sure, but I'm not exactly the world's greatest detective."
"Maybe not. But you care." –she insists. "You've made that much clear, at least. And that has to count for something, right?"
Tony purses his lips – it's exceedingly rare for him to interact with the average civilian for any extended period of time, so this is the first time he's gotten this kind of request. He was considering looking into the matter already, of course, but this is a straight-up petition from an aggrieved (surrogate) mother – the first time anyone besides one of his closest friends or Fury and his lackeys has come up to Iron Man and asked him to be their hero.
"I can't promise anything." –he cautions. "It really doesn't make sense to burn down the Showcase, so the police's suspicion might not amount to anything. But I guess there's no harm in looking into things."
"That's all I ask." –Cass says. "I can't imagine I'll have any peace of mind till Tadashi wakes up, but…knowing might help."
Tony nods. "You and me both, I think."
Hiro presses his lips together, sitting cross-legged atop the toilet as he hides in the restroom attached to Tadashi's room, having eavesdropped on his aunt and the off-duty Avenger. In all honesty, he wouldn't have imagined, in his wildest dreams, that the fire could've been anything other than an accident – after all, who could possibly want to destroy the hard work, hopes, and dreams of a bunch of nerdy college students? And yet…
He's more familiar with the criminal justice system than most fourteen-year-old kids, so he's pretty sure you don't throw the word 'arson' around without some damn good reason. The police must've found something that just doesn't check out with the much simpler explanation of an accident, but…aside from Krei's shady business practices, he didn't really see anything at the Showcase that stuck out to him as fishy.
That being said…he thinks, fishing a Microbot out of his jacket. It's the very last one, as far as he knows – the rest were reduced to slag in the fire, and this one only survived because it's the one he took back from Krei. It wriggles weakly, like a dying bug; the thing is, it really, really shouldn't. The Microbots are supposed to stay inert, in their last recorded position, for as long as they aren't directed to move elsewhere. The most likely explanation is that the destruction of the command diadem simply misfired a build order, which the Microbot is struggling to complete – and heck, he's not too proud to admit that this might just be the result of a coding oversight. But if there's a reasonable suspicion that the fire was premeditated…
Well, maybe the diadem isn't destroyed, like he believes. It's nothing concrete, and even if it were, it wouldn't necessarily be related to the fire – maybe someone stole it as they evacuated Stark Hall, not too outlandish since he did showcase exactly what it was and how it worked – but it could be a lead, and one that the police certainly wouldn't have.
He has to admit, Aunt Cass knows him very well – he definitely would've been much better off not knowing anything, because now that he does, he can't imagine thinking about anything else. And sure, it might be a little reckless, but this feels like something he's uniquely qualified to look into, without involving people who'll probably be about the furthest thing from tech-savvy enough to be of any help.
'You're afraid he might do something about it', Mr. Stark had said. So maybe that's the compromise; try and figure out if this Microbot lead means anything, and if it does, he can deliver his findings to someone who can actually do something about it. That way, Aunt Cass won't have anything to worry about, and if there's a culprit to be found…well, pointing Iron Man in their general direction seems about the best possible solution to make them regret it.
He heads out of the restroom, then, having decided on what to do. Tadashi rests fitfully in bed, hooked up to half a dozen machines and covered nearly head to toe in bandages. Even if his brother fully recovers – and the doctor absolutely refused to promise that he would – he's gonna be in that bed for months, priceless time stolen from him, his friends, and of course, his loved ones. This isn't something he can fix, and admitting that is hard. But, as Tadashi would promptly suggest if he were able, he just has to look for another angle; looking around the room, he finds one.
He grabs an empty glass of water, dries it with his shirt, and tosses the Microbot inside. Half of him is hoping that it'll simply continue to wriggle around, but it doesn't – instead, it starts to roll to his right. He turns the glass around, and the Microbot follows suit, doing a one-eighty and trying to pathfind its way…somewhere. Hiro narrows his eyes and pockets the Microbot, wrapping it in a bunch of tissue papers beforehand to make sure it won't slip out of his jacket. Something's definitely up, and he intends to literally follow it back to the source.
The rumble of jet boots makes the windows of the room vibrate. He looks out, and catches a glimpse of Iron Man flying away. It's just as well, he thinks. He should probably have something more concrete before he tries to get an Avenger's help. This might be risky, though – he should at least take some precautions. Almost like providence, he spots a singed brochure among Tadashi's belongings – what the paramedics could rescue, anyway. It's from his exhibit, all about Baymax and his impressive capabilities. And just like that, he muses, I'm way safer. Pending some minor modifications, of course.
He's pretty sure Tadashi won't mind if he borrows the powerful robot for an hour or two – not for something that might be this important. After all, he thinks, someone has to help.
Hey all! Once again, I apologize for the delay. This was one of those chapters that just refused to find an ending for a very long time – I had probably 75% of this chapter done for a couple months and got stuck trying to figure out the few closing paragraphs. Originally, Hiro wasn't even supposed to feature – this is primarily an excuse to get BH6 into the Kverse and, of course, Tony's take on a slightly modified version of the BH6 events, after all – but I found the end of Tony's convo with Cass to not be a very satisfying conclusion to the chapter.
Anyway, some trivia for y'all:
-Maybe Stark Industries wasn't the biggest arms supplier in the world, but it was definitely in the top 3. Tony's decision to close down the weapons manufacturing division was a hell of an upheaval, way beyond imploding most of the company.
-I think Tony's a case of "billionaire in spite of splurging" – SI just rakes in so much freakin' money that even though he has several billion-dollar armors, it's not much more than a dent on his overall wealth.
-Redfield Electronics is from Marvel Comics. Don't ask me what it was, it was such a minor entry in the wiki that I can't remember much more than "small electronics company mentioned in the comic books", which is pretty much what I was looking for.
-Chief Cruz is, of course, from the BH6 Series! I know he moves in later in the series, but y'know, I needed an important police official for the scene and I rather prefer not using OCs. As in canon, he deeply dislikes and mistrusts superheroes and vigilantes. He's fairly decent for a cop, but definitely an antagonist to anyone in the cape and cowl community.
-Kinda poking fun at the forensic investigation scene in Iron Man 3 – always thought it was a little silly, just how much his software was able to deduce from a scene he wasn't even present for. Like he muses, he could probably go a long way with the data he could gather, but he's no detective.
-I find it fascinating to think about the absolutely public fact that Iron Man (and several other superheroes) kills people. There's no "maybe" here, it's completely known that Tony has a body count, and I think that'd certainly affect people's perception of him, especially people who knew him from before like Prof. Granville.
-It's been mentioned a few times, but the Maria Stark Foundation typically pays for all the damage involved with superhero activities. There's some exceptions, of course – they wouldn't pay for the destruction caused by less savory vigilantes like the Punisher, for example, and they'll always focus on big events like the Battle of NY and Vilgax's invasion, so they might miss, like, Spider-Man fighting one of his rogues, but they're still pretty invaluable in a world like this.
-I tend to avoid having important people be related unless there's a pretty good or fun reason, but I saw this fancomic ages ago where Aunt Cass was either the sister or cousin of Helen Parr from the Incredibles. Since they're like, a cameo in the Kverse, I figured it's sufficiently harmless if that's the case here, too – Helen is the oldest sibling, Emi was the middle child, and Cass (full name Cassandra) is the youngest. When Emi died in the accident, Helen was willing to take in Hiro and Tadashi, but not wanting to overwhelm her older sister or uproot the kids, Cass pretty much dropped everything and adopted them. In case you're curious, none of them know Helen used to be Elastigirl, or even that any of the Parr family have superpowers.
-Thought it'd be interesting to have Cass doubting herself on whether she could cope with Tadashi's death, given we know for a fact that she'd definitely be able to go through the grief process relatively well.
-Here we see what I mentioned previously – that Tony's presence would have kind of an accelerationist effect on the events of BH6. Tony's straight in the middle of the fire and it kills someone he cared for, which prompts him to stick around long enough to notice that it was actually arson, which prompts a swift police investigation, which leads to Hiro overhearing there might've been foul play – and since he wasn't listless for weeks/months after a funeral, he was very quickly able to notice the active Microbot. This rushed timeframe also, I think, really promotes the reckless decision-making that would lead a bunch of teenagers to don carbon fiber superhero suits and fly around on a robot marshmallow man.
That's it from me! Hope you enjoyed the chapter :D if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them here, or shoot me an ask over on Tumblr (darthkvznblogs), my ask box is always open! Until next time!