Time is the most efficient sculptor and the most ruthless cleanser.
The bells of the 1970s rang out.
The dark clouds of the Cold War gave birth to bizarre subcultures.
The quagmire of the Vietnam War tarnished the glory of the Stars and Stripes.
The World moved forward amidst the clamor.
Vought International, a behemoth that rose in the flames of war, had already branded its logo into every corner of the era.
Its movies defined heroes.
Its music shaped trends.
Its merchandise permeated every household.
People grew up watching Vought movies.
They kissed while wearing Vought clothes.
They smoked cigarettes endorsed by Vought heroes.
And screamed in the streets for their own ideals and confusion.
Lynn remained the same Lynn.
Time left no mark on his face; it was stingy enough to not even grant him a single fine line.
The only thing that changed were his eyes, which had become even deeper than twenty years ago.
When he looked down at New York from the top floor of Vought Tower.
The bustling crowds beneath his feet were no different in essence from the bacterial colonies in the petri dishes in his laboratory.
May 29, 1970.
A phone call interrupted Lynn's nap.
On the other end of the line was Howard Stark.
His voice was full of ecstasy and exhaustion.
As if he had just won a battle more critical than the Normandy landings.
"He is born! Lynn! It's a boy!"
"He has my nose, thank God, and eyes like Maria!"
"I'm a father! Can you believe it? I, Howard Stark, actually have a son!"
"Congratulations, Howard."
"Listen, buddy, this is the point!"
Howard's tone on the other end became unprecedentedly solemn.
"I want you to be his godfather."
"I hope my son can possess your wisdom and vision, instead of being like me, spending his whole life cleaning up the messes he created."
Godfather?
A decent identity.
"My honor."
A week later, Lynn personally went to Stark Manor.
He saw the newborn lying in the crib.
Anthony Edward Stark.
Howard's stubble hadn't been shaved clean, and his eyes were dark.
But he was still as excited as a child who had just received a new toy, constantly bragging about every detail of his son in Lynn's ear.
Lynn ignored him.
He just stared quietly at that small, fragile life.
He reached out and gently touched the baby's soft cheek with his index finger.
Howard thought this was the godfather's blessing.
"I hope he can become a good man, a better man than me."
Howard's voice was somewhat sentimental.
"A creator, not a Destroyer."
Lynn withdrew his hand, a gentle smile appearing on his face.
"He will."
Just then, Howard leaned over.
He stared at Lynn's unchanging face, with a bit of drunkenness and confusion, and asked in a low voice: "Seriously, Lynn, did you secretly inject yourself with the serum behind my back?"
"I'm old enough to be his grandfather, how are you still as young as when we first met?"
Lynn turned his head and looked straight into Howard's eyes.
"Howard, eternal youth is a curse, not a blessing. Are you sure... you want to know the price?"
The smile on Howard's face vanished.
From those calm eyes, he read a chill that made his spine shiver.
Leaving the warm Stark Manor, Lynn arrived at the basement of the Vought headquarters.
Dr. Horton greeted him, his face flushed with a sickly crimson.
"Boss! Perfect works of art!"
He pointed to the five reinforced glass isolation chambers in the center of the laboratory.
Inside were five people who had just been through hell.
A muscular Black man.
A thin, pale, blond young man.
A Latina woman with a fierce look in her eyes.
And two unremarkable people, a man and a woman.
They had all once been street thugs, homeless drifters, dust forgotten by society.
Now, they were super-powered beings.
"The stability of compound v has exceeded all our expectations!"
A crazy glint shone behind Dr. Horton's spectacle lenses.
"We eliminated the risk of genetic collapse and enhanced their most prominent physical traits! Strength, speed..."
Lynn scanned the five "newborns" with hollow eyes.
"What about their memories?"
"Cleaned out completely! Like a blank sheet of paper!"
Dr. Horton pushed up his glasses.
"While erasing their humble pasts, we captured a few interesting fragments, such as hatred for poverty, attachment to family..."
"But now, these have all disappeared. We have implanted your information, your supreme image, into the deepest parts of their souls."
"You are their creator, their only Master, the meaning of their breath."
Lynn nodded.
He walked to the isolation chamber of the muscular Black man and, through the glass, made eye contact with those dazed eyes.
"From today on, you are called Black Iron."
He walked toward the blond young man again.
"You are called Soundwave."
Then the Latina woman.
"Bloody Mary."
Finally, he looked at the two white people.
"You are Guardian and Starlight."
Five names defined the purpose of five tools.
Lynn turned around and issued an order to Motoko Kusanagi beside him.
"Motoko."
"Have Black Iron, Soundwave, and Bloody Mary go to the streets of New York and cause some moderate trouble."
"Then... have Guardian and Starlight appear under the flashlights at the most opportune moment."
"Understood, Boss."
"The Vought security department will coordinate with the media department to ensure that the debut of the two new heroes receives maximum exposure."
The war was over, but people needed enemies.
Without enemies, heroes are worthless.
Since no enemies could be found.
Then create a few by hand.
A week later.
New York, Manhattan First National Bank.
"Get down! Everyone get the fuck down!"
A violent roar, accompanied by the deafening sound of metal being torn apart, shattered the hypocritical peace in the bank lobby.
A giant over two meters tall.
With skin that was a metallic grey-black, he tore open the bank's heavy vault door with his bare hands.
He was Black Iron.
Bullets hitting him only sparked a string of feeble sparks, further adding to his ferocity.
People were screaming and panicking.
In the face of such power, the order of modern civilization was fragile.
Just as Black Iron was carrying bags of U.S. dollars on his shoulders, preparing to leave.
A golden figure descended.
It was Starlight.
She hovered in mid-air.
Her body emitted a soft and warm glow.
Her blond hair fluttered in the airflow; she was so beautiful she didn't seem like a mortal.
"Put down what doesn't belong to you, monster!"
Black Iron let out a roar and threw a safe violently at Starlight!
Starlight elegantly raised her hand.
A brilliant beam shot from her palm and hit the safe.
There was no violent explosion; the safe was gently lifted by the light and then slowly landed on the open ground to the side.
Everyone watched this scene in stunned silence.
This was a scene from mythology.
This was a scene from a comic book.
This was a carefully orchestrated drama performed for the whole World to see.
In Starlight's mind, only one clear instruction echoed: "Protect the weak, show miracles, smile."
She gave Black Iron no chance.
Several consecutive beams completely suppressed him.
A final energy blast knocked him unconscious on the ground.
When she slowly landed and showed a reassuring smile to the terrified crowd around her.
It is unknown who started clapping first.
Immediately, thunderous applause and cheers drowned out the entire hall.
Reporters pressed their shutters like madmen, and flashlights froze Starlight's perfect figure forever.
This scene was broadcast across the entire United States within just a few minutes through Vought's ABC broadcasting network and dozens of partner media outlets.
This "hero debut show" was being broadcast in real-time in Lynn's office.
He picked up his black tea and took a light sip.
Business is just that simple.
Starlight's performance ended; the next act was Guardian.
First, use Black Iron, Soundwave, and Bloody Mary to create fear.
Let people realize that such terrifying monsters were still lurking in the shadows of peacetime.
Then introduce Starlight and Guardian to sell hope and a sense of security.
In their fear, the public would willingly surrender their rights and embrace any powerful entity that could offer them protection.
Vought not only provided protection but also provided merchandise.
Half a month later.
An unprecedented grand press conference was held at Vought Plaza.
Starlight and Guardian, these two new-generation heroes with impeccable appearance and temperament, officially met the public under the gaze of thousands.
They were young, sunny, and vibrant.
Declaring that they would use their power to protect the public and uphold justice.
They were the perfect idols.
They were the spiritual totems most needed in this confused era.
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