V.I.T.A.E.
As dozens of people and cameramen crowded in front of the building where Tony Stark's trial was taking place, the flashes from cameras lit up the scene like lightning in the middle of a storm. Everyone was desperate to capture the perfect shot of a historic moment: the trial of a man wearing a suit now considered a threat to national security.
A military vehicle pulled up in front of the courthouse. Its doors swung open with force, and General Nathaniel stepped out, his imposing presence matched only by the stern expression carved into his face. Behind him, Owen and Dr. Bruce Banner followed with steady strides, though each wore a very different expression.
"You know I don't like crowds," Banner muttered, uncomfortable at the sight of the shouting, jostling reporters.
"Hey, we're here to support a friend," Owen replied with a calm smile. "But if you'd rather turn green and smash this place to the ground, I've got your back."
"Stop talking nonsense," Nathaniel grumbled without even looking at him. "And move. We're already late."
As they walked through the halls, the soldiers posted at the entrances stared in surprise, quickly recognizing the high-ranking officer. Without hesitation, they saluted and opened the doors wide.
The moment they entered the courtroom, every head turned toward them. A hush fell over the chamber, heavy with anticipation. Nathaniel strode forward with unwavering resolve, followed by Owen, always composed, and Banner, who kept his gaze low, clearly out of his element.
Secretary Stern's eyes widened as he spotted the general.
"General, the hearing has already started. If you need anything, please, take a seat and—"
"It's fine," Nathaniel cut in sharply, not breaking stride, and made his way directly to the seat beside Tony Stark. Owen remained standing behind him in silence, while Banner hovered nearby, uncertain of his place.
"Hey, I've got this under control. You didn't have to come," Tony whispered.
"I just wanted to see what kind of idiocy the clowns in Congress had cooked up today," Nathaniel replied loudly enough for everyone to hear. A few people stifled laughter; others frowned in disapproval.
"Ahem... Let's proceed," said the senator with a stern look, tapping the gavel. "Mr. Stark, is it true or not that you possess a specialized weapon?"
Tony remained calm and unfazed.
"No. Not at all."
"It isn't?" the senator pressed, visibly annoyed.
"It isn't. Well... that depends on how you define 'weapon'."
"The Iron Man weapon," the senator said sternly.
"My invention isn't described that way," Tony replied, this time more firmly.
"Oh, really? And how would you describe it, Mr. Stark?" the senator asked sarcastically.
"I'd describe it for what it really is, Senator," Tony said without blinking.
"And what's that?"
"An advanced prosthetic," Stark answered with a faint smile. A ripple of laughter and surprise spread through the chamber. "That's the best way I can describe it."
"It's a weapon, Mr. Stark. I'm sorry to inform you that—"
Before the senator could finish, Tony cut in with a firm voice:
"If your priority was really the safety of the American people—"
"No, Mr. Stark," the senator interrupted, raising his voice. "My priority is to ensure the Iron Man weapon is placed in the hands of the United States of America."
Just as Tony was about to reply, General Nathaniel slammed his hand on the table with a loud thud. He wore a wide smile and stared down the senator with steely eyes.
"There it is. That's what this was all about. This whole circus orchestrated by the senator... to seize something he believes is a weapon," Nathaniel said, his voice low and menacing. "Even the President himself wasn't this interested. But you—this whole stunt was your doing. And for what? To grab hold of something you don't even understand. It's laughable. Comical. And frankly, stupid. You're not thinking about the people."
The senator's expression soured instantly.
"What are you talking about, General? We're here to—"
"Yeah, yeah… to take the toy away from the kid, right? Because you want it. Like a spoiled brat whose parents never taught him a lesson when it mattered," Nathaniel shot back. "Why don't I see you walking into gang-infested neighborhoods, asking them to hand over their guns? Or taking on crime lords who have better weapons than our own army? No, instead you want a high-tech suit you can't even operate. And without the energy core Tony Stark himself invented, you couldn't power it on anyway."
"This is about national security, General. Please, escort the General out of the chamber. We'll speak formally with the military later," the senator ordered, gesturing to the police and soldiers posted nearby.
The uniformed men looked at each other awkwardly. But they had their orders.
"I'm sorry," Nathaniel said, glancing at the soldiers. "You're just doing your job. But so am I."
Owen stepped forward. In his hands were several glass marbles, which he hurled with precision at the approaching officers. The marbles struck their vests and exploded on contact with a muted crack. The agents dropped to their knees, groaning in pain—some likely with cracked ribs. It was a swift and pointed show of force.
"So, Senator… do you want to confiscate my soldier's marbles too? Since they might count as weapons?" Nathaniel said with a cold smile. "You keep calling the Iron Man suit a weapon. But a tool only becomes dangerous in the hands of someone who sees it that way. And in this case, I trust Tony Stark a lot more—he sees it as a prosthetic."
Tony stared at the general, unsure whether to feel protected… or kidnapped.
"General! You just attacked police officers and soldiers in a public hearing!"
"Silence," Nathaniel growled, his voice booming. "Tony Stark is now part of the International Task Force for Emergency Assistance, as a consultant and lead in advanced technological development. This group will handle humanitarian aid, civilian rescues, and disaster response. And if necessary… it'll be there to save your sorry ass, Senator."
The room fell into stunned silence.
"This group is called V.I.T.A.E. And it has been officially sanctioned with the support of the President of the United States. From this moment forward, it is founded. Its core members: Iron Man, Hulk, and Super Soldier Owen Colt."
Confused murmurs filled the chamber.
"Let's go. You too, kid," Nathaniel finally said to Tony, who got up, still processing what had just happened, and followed them.
The senator, stunned, quickly pulled out his phone… and there it was: an official email.
…
Outside the courtroom...
"Hey, old man… I don't remember signing up for some acronym-named group," Tony said sarcastically.
"I know. But you're in it now. Unless you want the military chasing you for contempt," Nathaniel replied with a sideways grin. "Welcome aboard, Iron Man."
"Looks like we just kidnapped another one," Owen commented with an amused smile.
Banner let out a sigh. At least he had been given options… though they all led to the same outcome.
"I hope my position comes with a decent salary," Tony murmured, understanding the disguised help he had just received. The alternative was handing over his suit to the government and ruining everything he had worked for—to prove that Iron Man was a symbol of hope.
"You don't have a position. I made it up. I don't even know what the acronym stands for," Nathaniel admitted with a subtle chuckle.
Owen stepped closer, curious.
"How do you get the president to grant you so many favors? You got some dirty secrets on him or something?"
"Something like that," Nathaniel replied with a cryptic smile.
As they walked down the hallway, a man in a gray suit and glasses approached with fake politeness.
"General Nathaniel, it's an honor," said Justin Hammer with a polished smile, extending his hand.
"Not interested. Go sell your garbage toys to someone else," Nathaniel replied without even looking at him.
"Old man, I like your style," Tony said, flashing Hammer a mocking smile. The businessman turned red with rage, spun around, and walked away.
"Hmph. Back when you were the military's weapons dealer, at least we had quality. Now, with that clown, you have to be careful even firing a bullet with his name on it," Nathaniel muttered.
As they exited the building, the camera flashes blinded them for a moment. Tony waved confidently, as if everything was under control.
"General! Can you explain what V.I.T.A.E. is?" shouted a reporter.
"Basically, it's a group of people with special abilities, tasked with helping and rescuing those in need. Whether it's natural disasters, health emergencies, or war zones. We won't be intervening in conflicts… just saving those caught in the middle."
"But you're a general. Doesn't that conflict with your responsibilities to the American people?" another reporter asked.
"There are plenty of generals in this country. But I don't see any of them stepping up to protect civilians when they need it most. At least I'm taking a step toward changing that. Not just for this country… but for anyone who needs it. Soldiers don't attack civilians, but they rarely reach out to help them either. This group was created to fill that gap."
"So you want to form a superhero team like in the comics?" someone asked, laughing.
Nathaniel stopped. His gaze was steel.
"A lot of people are waiting for a hero… And there are entire neighborhoods in this country controlled by mafias. If they need help, these 'kids' will be there. If they want heroes, they'll get them. And if they're villains… well, then they'll face their worst nightmare."
Without saying more, they all climbed into the military vehicle.
"So what's the plan, old man?" Owen asked, now more serious.
"Propaganda. Hard times are coming. You'll be targets… but also symbols of hope. You'd better be ready."
"Damn… I should've brought a mask," Owen muttered.
"No one even asked me," Tony complained.
"Let's hope I don't end up being someone's nightmare," Banner said with a half-smile.
"By the way. Make sure to study that senator thoroughly. I find him suspicious," Nathaniel added seriously.