PROLOGUE
Two Looks Back, One Ahead
Have you ever faced a dead-end in your life? Working day in and day out with the hopes to accomplishing something in life while being faced with a harsh reality? John is in a similar situation. Out of fear of losing any sustainability in his life he cannot bring himself to quit from a job he despises. Nowadays it is quite difficult to find work if your employer is sitting in prison. Not even the best in the field could save a company this short before its downfall, especially not through marketing a convict. Hammer Advanced Weapons Systems’ reputation has always been rather volatile, but now it truly seems hopeless. Trying everything humanly possible to avoid being consumed by other companies has kept them working for what seemed to be an eternity.
Moving to the big city he believed he would finally have a great breakthrough and his student loan would eventually pay off. To his dismay, he only found himself in a dead-end job, which once seemed quite promising until Justin Hammer believed he could be the caretaker for a Russian criminal. Both had the exact same goal yet they tried to one-up each other in the progress. An already fragile relationship that became destructive as they both played a full deck that could never truly win. Leaving behind them not only a trail of destruction but also an entire office building collecting the scraps.
The only free time John has left he spends at the Lion Head Tavern, a place of tranquility, at least for him. In a way, drinking his sorrow away might allow him to finally muster enough courage to quit, but he did not want to end up as more of a disappointment that he already felt that he had become. What else was there left to do besides
“The usual!”
While waiting he noticed an unusual smell in the air. It reminded him of his father’s old cigars that he would always light the moment he got home. How nostalgic to smell it at this place, especially considering that there is a ban for cigars and cigarettes posted at the entrance. Looking to his right he sees a rather strongly built, but short man puffing away as the bartender kept begging him to stop. Even threats to throw him out were useless as with one glare would shut anyone up. Covered in dirt he sat there silently taking one drink after another while staring off into space. There seemed to be rips all over his clothes but no visibly scars to prove of any battle. Was this some new style he hadn’t heard of yet?
“Your scotch, sir!” As a child he always believed he would never be able to enjoy such types of drinks. Back then when his father let him try, it always felt as if after just one sip that bitterness would slowly crawl down his thought. Yet now when he drinks, what once was bitter has changed, it became oh so sweet. Was it that within his own frustration what he once hated would become his only solace? Would it be a way to forget his loneliness?
“Hey kid!” Kid? He was certainly no child anymore so why would anyone call him that?
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me! I am talkin’ to you!” In that moment he realized whose voice was speaking to him. One look into his eyes was as if he was staring directly at a bear ready to attack him at any time.
“No need to piss your pants! Just wanted to have some peanuts!” With a nod he passed the bowl beside him while internally letting out a sigh of relieve. Just the mere presence of this man almost made him believe he would die if he made a wrong movement.
“What’s your problem? Cat got you’re tongue?” With a jump of his heart he realized that his life might very well still be in danger yet as that brutish face let through a smirk he felt as if his fear was nothing more than a delusion. The young man knew it is impolite to remain silent and his mother would be disappointed in him if he forgot his manners simply because he moved away from his small hometown
“I am…” “So, what brings a kid like you to such a place? Surprised you can even order a drink.” It would seem he had not learned the same lessons he was forced to go through. Still, did he truly look that young? It seems that even wearing a suit could not make him older than what he was.
“Just trying to empty my mind. See if I can just forget my life at the moment.”
Suddenly the man started laughing as he slid closer. He pulled out another cigar while curiously staring at his neighbor.
“I got all the time in the world.” Everybody started staring at this unlikely pairing. One was nothing more than an everyman, sitting there in his old suit from college graduation with a quiet demeanor hoping that the evening goes by quick so that he could go home and drop himself into his bed. Next to him a surprisingly small but muscular built man wearing an old ripped tank top. Unusually hairy and the only thing covering his body odor is the strong smell coming from his preferred choice of tobacco. Whoever wanted these two to meet might have been hoping to invent a new joke.
The best place to start was to ask if he
“Ever heard of Justin Hammer?” He had always been famous, even before he was sent to prison, as a wannabe Stark. Still alongside his idol and rival he was among the best entrepreneurs in the weapon manufacturing business. If he focused more closely on his talents he might have developed technology far beyond our imagination but in the end he was consumed by fame and glory. The playboy persona seemed to have taken over whatever sense the man once knew. Slowly, John started remembering the time he started off and honor of meeting the big boss of the company. When he first met him he fell for the same tricks everyone else did, his bombastic yet strange personality made you believe that no matter what, you could accomplish anything.
“Hammer? Of course, he was the maniac from Stark’s ego-convention!”
“Yeah, and that man was, or, still is my employer. Ever since, Hammer Industries has been falling apart and our job was to save the company. Tasked with fixing whatever scraps are left.” Everyone within the company blamed Tony Stark, as his announcement of being “Iron Man” was the thing that drove Hammer further into his own delusions. His biggest competitor not only was constantly a step ahead of him, but now he was something more than just a manufacturer, a visionary, and a futurist. He had become Iron Man.
“We all have shitty days, but it isn’t a reason to look for hope within a drink.” He spoke those words with his gravely voice while downing whiskey glass after glass as if it was water.
“What is that look for? Never said I was a role model. It can always be worse, believe me!” What has he gone through? Oh, not for a second would he doubt that this grizzled man has probably seen things no other would ever be able to comprehend yet he can’t help himself question what exactly that must have been. The tank top revealed the man’s hairy arms, but yet there were no scars to be found. He reminded one of a man who has fought many battles but how has he managed to escape them unscathed?
“Don’t trust my words, kid?” he said with a giant grin on his face.
“If you had enough drinks to forget I guess you have enough time for a little story.”
The man told a story that seemed almost timeless. He never was a man trapped behind a desk and neither was he a leader. He was a soldier among millions who fought because he believed that there was nothing else left to do. Never had he fought for a country or believed that was his purpose on the battlefield. It may have seemed selfish but he fought because it was something he was good at it, even if it wasn’t something nice. No matter what wound he would have to endure, he would keep fighting until the end. He never escaped without any wounds and each time a bullet would pierce his flesh he slowly slipped away into a dark place. Sometimes he couldn’t recall what had happened around him anymore. Surrounded by muffled explosions and screams of agony of those that had fallen all he could do was keep fighting. In the end he would only see himself stand in an empty field surrounded by nothing but death.
His bloodstained boots reminded him that for some reason, he, the wild beast had managed to survive with no one to return to even though many, whose helmets he crushed under his weight, had children waiting for them, mothers who wanted to hold them one last time and lovers who wished to spend the rest of their life together with them. What did he have? Only more battles, more blood to be spilled and a life that seemed never ending. Among all those that have fought here on those grounds, he was the last to deserve to be left standing.
All that changed the day he met a man named Paul, who, like him, had seen many people, especially many close friends, die in his arms. It wasn’t that he was good at surviving. It was plain luck that he kept both his eyes. They were opposites yet they found peace in each other. Both had wished for the exact same thing, a way out of their misery while they also saw no true escape in giving up. They were here for a reason and maybe this brought them together. Every time before the sun would set they would join to drink whatever they could scavenge and exchanging stories from their childhoods or stories they had heard here and there.
Since then they fought side-by-side and even though they made bets on whom would be the first one to fall, neither of them did. Somehow together their spirit became stronger and death became more of a joke than a lingering shadow over their heads. Those dark times seemed to have vanished and their wish for freedom had diminished. Maybe he had nothing to go back to, but he found a true reason to stay at the front. They both found someone to distract each other from the horror surrounding them. No matter how many cried in agony, no matter where a bomb would explode, it all seemed like something that had to be tackled one way or the other. In the end, both knew that at one moment fate would catch up with them so they enjoyed every minute they could.
Bang. Luck finally ran out and a few lucky shots were all it took. What should have come seemed to have come way too early. Which one did it hit? Who was the first to fall? Knowing who was sitting there it is obvious which one the bullet reached yet this one hit him first. One so strong that the force alone threw him to the ground and while his friend tried to help him up the next one had his name engraved onto it. Now both of them lay on the ground and only one was capable to move. While soldiers came running in their direction he used the last of his bullets to bring them to their knees. No matter how many he shot down there was no end and the only thing he could think of was the direct approach. With knives in his hands he kept fighting his way back while trying to keep his close friend alive. Every word or movement made him feel heavy as he fought his way through. The amount of bullets that kept reaching him should have ended his life long time ago but his will kept him going forward. Strapping his friend to his back he tried his utmost to keep them both alive to see the next day become a reality.
It didn’t take long until an animalistic urge took over and all the adrenaline rushed. Slowly he could feel his head blackening out as rage took over. The only thing he remembers is that after his last scream of agony he had lost himself entirely. In a fit of blinding rage he fought his way through the hoards of enemies until shot after shot would slowly bring him down. Before that would become a reality he tried to take down as many people as he can before he would finally fall to his knees. It seemed hopeless from the beginning but he thought there was at least a little inkling of hope that would keep them both alive. Before he lost himself he remembered a slight smile on his old friends face. Even if they wanted to keep going maybe they would meet once again in heaven. A place where they could finally drink something that tasted decent and wouldn’t leave such a sour taste in their mouth. Smoke whatever was available once again and have no worries in the world. Everything around him slowly was being swallowed by shadows. Any sound left was slowly fading. In the distance he saw a beauty standing there with her hand reaching out to him. With a smile of a graceful beauty she would tell the truth of men, that no matter what would happen it always ended the same. Finally his strength left him and he collapsed with the weight of his friend on his back. What they did not understand was that while both of them were lying in puddles of blood, one of them would not be resting at this place. So unlikely that may seem, against all odds he had managed to survive proven by the fact that he was sitting next to John this very moment.
“Know what the worst part about all of it was? No matter how many men died, the report would always be the same. There is nothing new at the front, is what they say as they carried me away. Slowly coming back I saw my friend lying there motionless as the dragged me by my hands. I guess I’m the only one who even remembers that poor bastard was there.” Just for a few seconds he starred off into an empty space in front of him. It seemed as if he found himself once again together with his old friend. As if they were sitting side by side at this very moment looking back at old memories while enjoying a nice drink. Some say old ghosts come back to haunt us in our own regret, maybe on that empty seat next to him there he sits, smiling and waiting for his old friend to join him. What else must this man forced to survive? His body may not show any signs of scar tissue but his eyes certainly do. They say war can make the youngest, most bravest soldier turn into an old man in mere days. How much has he aged over all these years keeping those memories locked within him?
“Looks like my time is up. Gotta get goin’! Kid, was nice meetin’ ya’. Drinks on me!” He threw his brown jacket over as he left a few dollars on the table before slowly walking towards the exit. On his way out he laid his hand on John’s shoulder with a few parting words.
“We all keep fightin’ for the wrong reasons no matter how hopeless it seems. We learn that some wars must be fought while others serve no true purpose. Better jump ship before it drags ya’ down, bub.”
Looking back as the man exits with a smile John couldn’t help but echo his words throughout his mind. Jump ship? Wasn’t that exactly what he had wished for all this time but was too scared to do? Was he trying to drown that fear with that glass lying in front of him? He may have seeked the same ending as the others, believing that the death of the company might be his own. A way out? Some form of redemption? It was neither. It was simple denial through and through. He was no different than all those soldiers, if the enterprise collapsed upon their shoulders nothing new would have happened. They fought a war they would never be able to win and only remain the casualties for the management above. It was the fate of all those below if they remained simply peons.
If he wanted to survive the only thing that remained was to make
“Change!” Eyes once so dead and filled with desperation flashed with life once again and he felt that he finally had the courage to say:
“I will quit and start over!” Staring at his glass he wanted to finally say farewell to the demon that kept him a prisoner. The true demon was the reflection he could see in the glass, his own cowardice staring back at him.
As he was about to leave he heard something hit the floor. Where did that sound come from? On the floor he saw a dog tag lying as if it was calling out his name. It was in great condition for surviving a war. He must have looked it at it for all these years. Still, it seems he couldn’t avoid a slight rusting, which covered the last name, but the first name “Paul” was easy to decipher. It wasn’t that mans, but that what kept the memory of his old friend alive. After all these years he took care of this to keep his friend alive in some capacity. Below it he could read the year as the rest of the date was completely scratched up. It stated that the man was enlisted in 1915. That is impossible he thought. That is almost 100 years old and yet he tells the tale as if it was just the other day. Would that mean this man has lived so long? How is that even possible? What he must have seen in his life if he was cursed walking this earth for so long? Something wasn’t adding up.
Walking down the street he wondered what mysteries this world must be keeping. A man who seemed to have been alive for an eternity, trapped seeing people he once loved and care for die around him. A once famous entrepreneur is now flying in a suit above them all, making it seem that nowadays anything would be possible. Those select view gifted or cursed roamed around them hidden among millions. Who knew what kind of people where hiding out there with who knows what kind of abilities. As he was slowly swallowed by the mass his mind kept wondering to what possibilities would the world keeping from them. In that very moment something halted everyone around him. One look up into the sky would change everything he believed in even more. He got his answers a way he never believed he would. Among thousands he stood there while in the sky a blue rift appeared and strange beings escaped into their world. From that moment everything changed, nothing would be the same anymore. Young John realized in that moment that the world they once knew has ended and if he survived this he will not back out on his words. Chaos erupted around him and the only thing he could think about was
“What follows?"