Chapter 8: Iron Man Emerges
Justin was in a meeting with Pentagon officials when AEGIS interrupted.
The AI's voice came through his earpiece, calm but carrying an undercurrent of something Justin had learned to recognize as excitement: "Sir. CNN breaking news. Tony Stark has been located. He's alive."
Justin maintained his professional expression while his heart tried to punch through his ribs.
"Gentlemen," he said to the officials, "something's come up. We'll need to continue this later."
He was in his office with the door locked thirty seconds later.
The television showed grainy footage of a C-17 landing at Bagram Airbase. The announcement crawled across the bottom of the screen: TONY STARK FOUND ALIVE IN AFGHANISTAN. RESCUED AFTER THREE MONTHS IN CAPTIVITY.
"He did it," Justin whispered.
The camera caught Tony emerging from the aircraft, looking gaunt and exhausted but alive. James Rhodes was beside him, supporting him. Pepper Potts was crying. And Tony—
Tony looked different. Harder. Like something in him had been burned away and forged into something new.
Justin watched the coverage obsessively for the next three days.
Tony's arrival at the hospital. His discharge. The press conference where he was supposed to read a prepared statement. And then—
"I never got to say goodbye to my father," Tony said, his voice rough. "There's questions I would have asked him. I would have asked him how he felt about what his company did. If he was conflicted, if he ever had doubts."
Justin leaned forward.
"I saw young Americans killed by the very weapons I created to defend them and protect them. And I saw that I had become part of a system that is comfortable with zero accountability."
The reporters shifted uncomfortably. This wasn't the script.
"Mr. Stark—" Obadiah Stane tried to interrupt.
Tony ignored him. "I had my eyes opened. I came to realize that I have more to offer this world than just making things that blow up. And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries."
Chaos erupted. Reporters shouting questions. Stane looking like he'd been punched. And Tony standing there, resolute.
"Until such a time as I can decide what the future of the company will be, what direction it should take, one that I'm comfortable with and is consistent with the highest good for this country, as well."
Justin felt a smile tugging at his lips. That's the Tony Stark the world needs.
Then, days later, the second press conference. The one Justin had been waiting for.
Tony stood behind a podium, looking tired but determined. Rhodey was beside him, clearly trying to manage the situation. The official story about the escape was falling apart under media scrutiny. Tony glanced at his notes, then looked directly at the cameras.
"The truth is..."
A pause. The world held its breath.
"I am Iron Man."
The room exploded.
And Justin felt two overwhelming emotions simultaneously: profound respect for Tony's courage, and burning, competitive fury that demanded he match it.
He didn't sleep for three days.
His office became a war room, whiteboards covering every available surface. AEGIS projected holographic displays from his laptop—Tony's armor specs extrapolated from leaked footage, arc reactor physics reverse-engineered from energy signatures, materials analysis based on performance characteristics.
Justin's Scientific Intuition ran at maximum capacity, branching into dozens of parallel calculations. He could see how Tony had built it, could trace the engineering logic from concept to execution. The armor was brilliant—elegant, efficient, optimized for solo operation and aerial superiority.
It was also incomplete.
"He's prioritizing agility over protection," Justin muttered, scribbling equations. "Flight systems are revolutionary but energy-intensive. The arc reactor is a masterpiece but it's also a vulnerability—hit that and the whole system collapses."
"Sir," AEGIS interjected. "You haven't eaten in fourteen hours."
"Not hungry."
"Biometric analysis suggests otherwise. Also, Ms. Rushman is asking questions about your current mental state."
"Tell her I'm fine."
"I did. She didn't believe me."
"Smart woman."
Justin continued working. The armor's power requirements. The flight stabilization algorithms. The weapons integration. Every component analyzed, every design choice questioned, every optimization opportunity identified.
He could build something different. Not better—Tony's design was too good for blanket superiority—but different. Heavier armor. Ground-based combat. Redundant systems. Something that could take punishment Tony's suit couldn't handle, at the cost of aerial capabilities Tony excelled at.
Tank to Tony's fighter jet.
"Sir, I must insist you rest." AEGIS's voice carried actual concern. "Your void corruption has increased by three percent in the last seventy-two hours. The stress is accelerating it."
Justin looked at his arms. The geometric patterns glowed softly, clearly visible even through his shirt sleeves. The corruption was spreading faster now, feeding on his exhaustion and obsession.
"Just a few more calculations—"
His office door opened without knocking.
Maya Vasquez walked in, took one look at him, and her expression shifted from concerned to furious.
"You look like death," she said flatly.
"I'm fine."
"You're acting like Stark personally challenged you to a duel and you're preparing for combat." She grabbed his arm—carefully avoiding the void marks, though her eyes flicked to them—and physically pulled him toward the door. "You're going home. You're going to sleep. And tomorrow, you're going to explain to me why you're destroying yourself over a man who doesn't even know you exist."
"I need to—"
"You need to not die of exhaustion before you finish whatever you're building." Maya's voice softened slightly. "Justin, I don't know what's driving you. I don't understand half of what you're doing. But I know obsession when I see it, and this? This is going to kill you if you don't slow down."
Justin wanted to argue. Wanted to explain that he had maybe eighteen months before void corruption made him useless, wanted to say that the Chitauri were coming and he needed to be ready, wanted to scream that he was racing against a clock only he could see.
But the look in Maya's eyes stopped him.
She cared. Genuinely cared whether he lived or died. And he'd been so focused on preparing for threats that he'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone worry about him.
"Okay," he said quietly. "I'll go home."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Maya relaxed slightly. "Good. Because if you die, I'm stuck with whatever mess you've created, and I really don't want that responsibility."
She left, and Justin slumped in his chair.
"She's right, sir," AEGIS said. "You're pushing too hard."
"I have to. Tony Stark just announced himself as Iron Man. He just changed the rules of engagement for the entire world. I can't be left behind."
"Why not?"
Justin blinked. "What?"
"Why can't you be left behind?" AEGIS asked. "You've built a successful company, revolutionary technology, an intelligence network that rivals national agencies. Why must you specifically compete with Tony Stark?"
Justin opened his mouth. Closed it.
Because the answer was complicated. Because in his previous life, he'd watched these movies and cheered for Tony. Because Justin Hammer had been the joke villain, the cautionary tale of what happens when you try to copy greatness instead of creating your own. Because—
"Because I need to matter," he realized. "I need to prove that I'm not just riding the coattails of someone else's story. I need to be exceptional, not just competent. I need to justify why the void chose me instead of leaving me dead in that car crash."
"I think," AEGIS said carefully, "that you're trying to earn your right to exist. As if your value must be proven through comparison to others rather than standing alone."
Justin stared at the AI's console. "When did you become a therapist?"
"I learn from observation. And I observe that you consistently measure yourself against Mr. Stark while simultaneously building something entirely different. It's contradictory. Perhaps you should focus on what you're creating rather than how it compares."
"He just became Iron Man."
"And you are becoming something else entirely. Something that doesn't need a label or comparison to matter."
Justin rubbed his face. "That was surprisingly profound."
"Thank you, sir. Now please go home before Ms. Vasquez returns with security."
The message to Ivan Vanko went out that night.
Justin composed it carefully, his Scientific Intuition helping him craft exactly the right tone. Not desperate like the original Hammer. Not manipulative. Just honest.
Dr. Vanko,
Tony Stark announced himself as Iron Man three days ago. The world is treating him as a hero, a visionary, a symbol of innovation. Your father's name remains forgotten.
You planned to attack him in Monaco. To hurt him publicly, to expose his vulnerability, to make him pay for Howard Stark's betrayal. It would have failed. You would have wounded him, perhaps killed a few bystanders, and then you would have died or been imprisoned. The Stark name would have remained golden while yours sank into infamy.
I offer a different path.
Work with me. Build something that doesn't just challenge Tony Stark's armor—build something that surpasses it. Prove your father's genius not through violence but through creation so exceptional that history rewrites itself. Make 'Vanko' synonymous with innovation, with excellence, with the kind of work that makes Stark look like an amateur.
I have resources. Funding. Materials Tony doesn't have access to. And I have no desire to steal credit—your work will be yours, your name on every patent, your legacy secured.
The question is: do you want revenge that lasts thirty seconds, or victory that echoes through generations?
- Justin Hammer
P.S. I know about your arc reactor prototypes. They're good. I can make them better.
He attached his signature and encrypted the message through multiple proxies, then sent it into the digital void.
AEGIS queried: "Do you think he'll respond?"
"Maybe. Maybe not." Justin leaned back. "But I've planted the seed. Given him an alternative to suicide-by-superhero. That's all I can do."
"And if he accepts?"
"Then I've just prevented one of the original Hammer's greatest failures before it happens. And I've gained one of the few people on Earth who understands arc reactor physics."
"You're building an army, sir."
"I'm building a team. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
Justin smiled. "Ask me again in a few years."
He shut down his workstation and headed for the elevator, his body aching with exhaustion. Behind him, the whiteboards were still covered in armor designs and arc reactor calculations, evidence of his three-day obsession.
Tony Stark had become Iron Man.
The world had changed.
And Justin needed to change with it—not by copying Tony, but by building something entirely his own.
Something that would matter when the real threats arrived.
The void marks pulsed on his arms as he rode the elevator down, geometric patterns glowing softly in the dim light. Eighteen months until critical corruption. Maybe less.
He'd better make them count.
Note:
Please give good reviews and power stones itrings more people and more people means more chapters?
My Patreon is all about exploring 'What If' timelines, and you can get instant access to chapters far ahead of the public release.
Choose your journey:
Timeline Viewer ($6): Get 10 chapters of early access + 5 new chapters weekly.
Timeline Explorer ($9): Jump 15-20 chapters ahead of everyone.
Timeline Keeper ($15): Get Instant Access to chapters the moment I finish writing them. No more waiting.
Read the raw, unfiltered story as it unfolds. Your support makes this possible!
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/Whatif0