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Arthur had genuinely overlooked one crucial point, and now, for a moment, he honestly didn't know how to continue the conversation with the two people before him.
He rubbed his brow in a gesture of helplessness.
"Weapons, by their very nature, are merely tools for killing," he finally said. "They themselves bear no sin. In fact, most of the time, we use them to protect the people we care about. It's only when they fall into the hands of the wicked that they become instruments of murder. I believe… if it's revenge you seek, you may be pointing your anger in the wrong direction."
"It's not necessarily about killing him for revenge," the woman said softly, her eyes holding Arthur's gaze. "I just want him to pay a price. But judging by your expression… You seem to know this man, Tony Stark."
Arthur offered a slight shrug.
"Strictly speaking, he's my nephew. I knew his father, and I had a very good relationship with him."
The man and woman froze, exchanging quick, disbelieving glances. After a heavy silence, the woman spoke again.
"Your honesty… surprises me."
Arthur chuckled, a dry sound.
"Well, since you already know me as the Instructor, you should also know I'm something of an antique. I'm learning to embrace that more and more these days. Whether it's true or not hardly matters; playing the 'old man' card does have its perks. Once upon a time, I was very active in a chaotic era, an age of killing, death, endless longing, and unrestrained desire. A true, global battlefield."
"I know that war," the woman stated. "In fact, there isn't a soul in this world who doesn't. But I've always doubted whether you were truly that legendary Instructor."
She was the talker of the two, her voice steady but laced with curiosity.
Arthur smiled faintly.
"There's no need to doubt it. The things you don't know about this world far outnumber the things you do. What I want to convey is, in that long-gone era, I met Tony's father, Howard Stark. He was a witty, humorous man, full of genius, someone truly worthy of admiration."
The two listeners remained silent, absorbing the revelation.
Arthur continued, his voice taking on a historical gravity.
"And in those days, every single weapon he created was something we relied upon to defend the world. You probably have no idea how terrifying Hydra's military capability was back then. Their weapons could wipe out elite forces with ease. If conventional arms had been enough to defeat them, the Super Soldier Project would never have even existed."
Arthur gave a self-deprecating smile.
"Of course, when you get down to it, the Super Soldier Project was also a weapon, one developed by…"
The name lingered on his tongue but he chose not to utter it.
"…a brilliant scientist, in collaboration with Tony's father."
"What are you trying to say?" the woman pressed.
"What I'm saying is that what you call evil depends entirely on whose hands it's in. In Hydra's grasp, those weapons were tools for domination and engines of slaughter. But in our hands, they were shields, used to protect this world. Without those weapons, the Earth would've long since become Hydra's paradise."
Arthur met her unwavering gaze and spoke gently.
"So I think you should reconsider whether revenge is truly what you want. As for the 'price' you mentioned… Tony Stark has already paid it, a price you can't even begin to imagine."
With that, Arthur rose to his feet.
"I'm sorry, but our conversation ends here for today. Someone will take you to a proper place to rest. You won't be prisoners, just… under a kind of soft confinement. Camp Lehigh is a fine place. I hope you'll come to like it."
Arthur connected to Mark Series as he walked toward the door.
"I need a constant 'guardian,' Mark Series, one that will stay with our new guests at all times. Unless absolutely necessary, it must not harm them."
[Mark Series understands. Implementing Protocol 7 Gamma.]
As he stepped through the doorway, Arthur paused, turning back to offer the two occupants a small, calm smile.
"Our next conversation won't be too far off."
"But before that," the woman said coldly, a final challenge, "I hope you understand, the era you spoke of is long gone. The world today isn't what it used to be. Don't bring more pain to this peaceful age."
Arthur sighed softly, his expression troubled.
"You'll soon see for yourself… whether this world is truly different from the old one."
He closed the door behind him, and wasn't the least bit surprised to find Tony Stark standing not far away, half-hidden in the shadows of the corridor.
Tony held a half-empty bottle of expensive liquor, his eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smile that mixed mockery, exhaustion, and deep bitterness all at once.
"Drink?"
Arthur nodded once.
They walked together through the long, quiet corridor, out the base's sealed security doors, and up to the rooftop.
Tony stretched his arms above his head, inhaling deep breaths of the cool, damp night air.
"You know, all the greenery around this place, Camp Lehigh, that was all me. Landscaping."
"Of course I know," Arthur replied with a nod, taking the offered bottle. "I even know you bought up all the surrounding land yourself, just to make sure the environment around Camp Lehigh would be aesthetically and strategically perfect."
Tony gave a humorless chuckle.
"You always know everything…" He paused, then asked quietly, the bitterness seeping into his voice, "So, those two inside, they'll be useful, right?"
Arthur took a long mouthful of the strong liquor, then handed the bottle back.
"One possesses unmatched speed; the other, an unfathomable energy. Both will become pillars of Camp Lehigh, reliable comrades we can trust."
Tony's voice hardened, stripping away the weariness and leaving only raw anger.
"So to ensure they trust you, you can just sell me out, right? Not just those two, there's him, and there's me… three people! You can just weigh us all on your moral scale, and pick whichever side gives you the better leverage, can't you?"
Arthur looked at Tony quietly, his expression unreadable, and said nothing.
Tony's voice rose, the accusation spilling out.
"Can't you?! Answer me!"
Arthur stood still for a moment… then suddenly reached out with lightning speed, and flicked Tony sharply on the forehead.
THWACK! The sound echoed in the night air.
Tony blinked, stunned, his hand instinctively flying to the tender spot.
Arthur smiled faintly, a genuine, warm, and slightly teasing look.
"You know, I've been wanting to do that for a long, long time." He paused, his gaze softening into that of a mentor. "After all, you are my nephew. Whether you admit it or not, that's the truth."
Tony's jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring as tears welled up despite his fierce struggle to hold them back. He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, and finally murmured,
"I… I don't know what's wrong with me… maybe I just…"
Arthur turned away, taking another drink from the bottle without looking back, staring out at the silent countryside.
"You don't need to carry that much weight on your shoulders, Tony," he said quietly, his voice the steady anchor Tony desperately needed. "Do what you need to do. I understand."
(End of Chapter)