“Is it better to be feared or respected?” This rhetorical question comes out of Tony Stark’s mouth as he kicks off the weapons presentation of the Jericho missile.

“I say, is it too much to ask for both?” Another rhetorical question, and quickly it sinks into the minds of the listeners— this man is selling.

“With that in mind, I humbly present the crown jewel of Stark Industries’ Freedom Line. It’s the first missile system that incorporates our propriety repulsor technology. They say the best weapon is the one you never have to fire. I respectfully disagree. I prefer the weapon you only have to fire once. That’s how dad did it. That’s how America does it. And it’s worked out pretty well so far. Find an excuse to let one of these off the chain, and I personally guarantee you the bad guys won’t even want to come out of their caves.” This man is selling and the sales pitch is to stop a war, you’d have to start one… a truly warmongering crazy approach.

Morgan who is watching this then realizes… her father was a bad man… At least he used to be. It saddens her heart, but considering all things, she’d have to let it play out.

Tony Stark raises his hand signaling for the actual demonstration to start. The speech was just a flavoring on top.

The missiles eject themselves into the air. At first, it looks normal, just like any basic missile out there. But as it arrives at its peak momentum and unleashes what was inside it… That is when it gets scary… Removing the missiles’ shells midair, a bunch of small bogeys reveals themselves. The ominous screaming and crying reverberate in the wind. It is ear-piercing.

The small bogeys start descending, and they didn’t stop. Even though they were in a cluster together, their trajectory's aim was true. This means that the tech is mature enough to have accuracy on top of its destructiveness.

But Morgan underestimates this destructiveness. When the small bogeys finally reach ground zero, scary can no longer cut it… It was terrifying. The mountains’ skin and flesh start cascading down. The Jericho missile literally leveled the mountain to an effective extent. The turbulence of the wind is so strong it reaches them, a location significantly far from the mountains.

It was like the ruination of the walls of Jericho.

Time traveling, Morgan imagines that a lot of things will be outdated in this timeline… But no, the Jericho missile is strong enough to send several Chitauri motherships down.

Morgan starts thinking. If her father only continues on the path of building big weapons of mass destruction… maybe he could have won without losing his life. Ironman Armor and Arc Reactors are great, but a bigger one would definitely be a greater asset in a war.

The heroism and guardianship that Tony Stark possesses seem like a joke to Morgan now…

“We need this Jericho missile or maybe even more…” Morgan starts telling herself.

What this world needs are not heroes, but professionals. Her dad is a professional weapons manufacturer. That is what he should be doing, and would keep on doing in the future.

An idea slowly form in Morgan’s mind. She cannot let her father become Ironman.

Escorting them back to the military jeep is a bunch of soldiers. Before they get into the jeep, a soldier comes to Tony.

“Sir? Uumm… My name is Jimmy, can I take a picture with you, sir?” The soldier respectfully asks Tony.

There is this brooding expression in Tony, he nods at the soldier’s request in an almost instinctive manner eager to get over this quickly. Jimmy takes a groupie, and then quickly leaves for his post with a wide smile on his face.

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“Mr. Stark? Are you ok? Is something bothering you?”

“Maguna… I am not really sure about continuing the weapons business. People call me names… I know that to some, what I am doing isn’t good. The only reason I keep my appearance is that it gives me false confidence… In times like this when I do a weapons presentation, I feel closer to my dad… Maybe, I am trying to understand him…”

“Of course you do,” Morgan speaks her honest thoughts aware of how painful it is to grow up without a dad. “Every kid wants to understand their parents… I also want to understand my dad… Why did he do those things? Is it worth it? Something like that…”

Tony and Morgan share this connection, one that spans across the timeline.

Riding the military jeep, a continued silence ensues between them. In situations like this, Morgan is usually the conversation starter however her focus is somewhere else. Any moment now, terrorists of the Ten Rings would be attacking them.

Tony appreciates the silence as he stews on his own thoughts.

Suddenly, a vehicle comes ramming at their jeepney. In the vast sands of the desert, its appearance should have been obvious.

Morgan takes quick garner on her situation. The sand dunes aren’t exactly a flat space. There are slopes in the path their ride is taking. The terrorists must’ve set up an ambush on them taking the slopes into account.

A terrorist comes into their jeep trying to take hold of Tony.

Morgan sneakily uses her nanotech to envelop her right arm except for her hand. With the extra strength it offers her, Morgan takes a swing at the terrorist knocking the living daylights out of him.

“You pack a punch, girl…”

It wasn’t technically a punch, Morgan wants to bicker, but there are far more urgent things to do. Lots of shooting in the dunes ensue, fortunately, the soldiers aren’t taking any serious casualties yet aside from some people getting shot in places.

They are not dead yet, but soon, they will be because of blood loss.

“Take cover, Mr. Stark…”

Morgan drags Tony to the rear of the jeepney opposite where the most firing is… Morgan grabs the rifle of the knocked-out terrorist.

“Do you know how to use that?” Tony asks Morgan.

“Trust me, I do.” Morgan is on the verge of admitting her identity and shedding all pretenses.

“No, you trust me… I am a weapons manufacturer, surely I know how to shoot a gun. And you are a 15-year-old. I was at least thinking you’d be panicking now, but why are so capable?”

In the end, Morgan gives up the Ak-47 rifle which she exchanges for a handgun that she doesn’t even know its name. Morgan secretly uses her nano-tech to create some sort of aim-bot.

In her right eye, she sees this almost invisible hologram that functions both as a retinal scan and quick-aim.

Morgan sees to it that she’ll protect her father in this lifetime. Without missing a beat, Morgan raises her handgun as she sees the approaching terrorist from the slope. With a single pull of the trigger, she sends a bullet flying to the terrorist. It was a headshot.

Taking a life feels too easy to Morgan. That is the power of technology. It makes everything more convenient. However, no matter how convenient it is… The impact of her actions will never be mitigated.

The psychological shock sets in her. She feels nauseous. Morgan could’ve done better, just like a hero, she could’ve just incapacitated the terrorist. With her tech, she can do just as much.

Tony sees the turmoil in Morgan. “Hey, hey, look at me! It was self-defense, okay? You pulled that trigger not because you wanted to kill, but because you wanted to defend yourself… No, you wanted to defend me… Yes, that’s the story, you wanted to defend me, so that blood was not in your hands, but mine…”

Morgan takes a deep breath in and out. “No, Mr. Stark… You don’t have to play the hero… I did it because I did it… Self-defense? Murder? It’s the state that will decide that.”

Raising her gun with conviction, Morgan takes out another one of the terrorists, another headshot. Tony freezes on his shoes made aware of his mistake. Bringing the 15-year-old girl here is a mistake… This is his mistake… Not HR… Not the absent Rhodes… Not god…

“Fuck it. Where is Rhodes when I need him?” Tony raises his gun with gritted teeth as he aims and shoots to kill. The only thought running through his mind is to kill more… To kill one more person, so that person doesn’t have to be killed by Morgan…

In the end, as all of the terrorists start retreating, Tony realizes that his actions of killing more were futile. He grabs Morgan’s handgun and checks its rounds… All 12 bullets, the maximum capacity of her handgun, all of them are gone… Tony recalls the close calls when the terrorists almost get to him… Morgan all shoots those dead not even missing a shot…

Morgan’s hands have the blood of 12 people… they are terrorists anyway, the thought isn’t in any way comforting, but it makes Tony less disturbed.

“We need more Jericho missiles…” A silent rage burns in his heart. “And also, I need to fire some people in HR…”