"Rorschach, what's going on out there?"
"Why was there such a crazy shootout?"
Raven couldn't hold back her questions after answering his. The whole situation had clearly caught her off guard.
"Raven, that's exactly what I wanted to ask you."
Rorschach came to a stop. Raven noticed and halted just ahead of him, the two standing in the doorway of the small back exit, not yet stepping outside.
"I may have... accidentally stirred up some trouble," Rorschach said, hands raised slightly in a "don't shoot the messenger" kind of way.
Raven's expression sharpened with concern. "What kind of trouble? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine—don't worry. Maybe 'trouble' is the wrong word," Rorschach replied, trying to downplay it. "To put it simply… when you went inside to talk to Caliban, a group of agents just happened to be outside on a mission."
Raven's eyes narrowed in disbelief.
So that's where all the gunfire came from...
"Wait, that was just a coincidence?" she said, rubbing her temples. "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I didn't plan any of it," Rorschach said, shrugging. "Total fluke."
"But what's it got to do with you?" she asked, voice dropping. "It's not just random—Howard Stark was involved. Howard Stark, Rorschach."
"The one and only," Rorschach said. "I saw him out there during the chaos and... well, I saved him."
Raven blinked.
"Wait, the Howard Stark? What's a guy like him doing in a place like this?"
"Good question. Turns out, he's actually the boss of those agents," Rorschach said, casually pulling a sleek business card from his coat pocket and handing it to her.
Raven stared at it, eyebrows raised.
The Howard Stark—inventor, billionaire, celebrity—was apparently running some secret organization with a name so long and bureaucratic it sounded made-up.
"And now," Rorschach continued, taking the card back, "I've gotta give a statement. Or a report. Or something like that."
Raven nodded slowly, starting to piece things together.
"Alright. Go do what you need to do. I'll head back to the manor and let Charles know what's up."
They exchanged a brief nod, then parted ways—Raven heading back to Xavier's School, and Rorschach climbing into one of the government vehicles alongside Howard Stark.
At this point in time, S.H.I.E.L.D.—or rather, the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division (a name only a government agency could love)—didn't have its own fancy headquarters yet.
Instead, they were operating out of an old Army base: the former camp of the Navy's 78th Artillery Regiment.
The place didn't look like much—but it had serious history.
This was the birthplace of Captain America.
And not just Steve Rogers, the man—but the symbol.
Howard's car cruised into the compound, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Rorschach peered out the window, taking it all in.
Something about the place looked… familiar.
Almost like the flashback scene from Avengers: Endgame—when Cap and Iron Man went back in time to snatch the Tesseract.
"You look curious," Howard said with a smirk. "Lemme guess—you want to ask if this is where Rogers was born?"
Rorschach just raised an eyebrow.
"Well, bad news," Howard continued with a chuckle. "No one's born in a place like this. But this is where the name 'Captain America' was born."
Rorschach turned toward him, interested.
"Back then we were spitballing code names for Rogers—'Super Captain,' 'Fantastic GI,' even 'Mr. Super.' He picked 'Captain America' himself. The name stuck—and the rest is history."
Rorschach couldn't help but smile at the randomness of it.
Just then, the car came to a stop, and they both stepped out.
Rorschach glanced around, noticing someone was missing. "Hey, your buddy Vanko didn't come with us?"
Howard gave him a look. "First off, he's not my buddy. Second—this isn't exactly a bring-a-friend kind of place."
In truth, Anton Vanko wasn't publicly affiliated with S.H.I.E.L.D. Stark had him working somewhere else, off the grid.
Before Rorschach could ask more, a massive explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet.
BOOM!
Dust, debris, and a shockwave burst through the air—like a bomb had gone off just a few buildings away.
Instinctively, Rorschach tensed, ready for a fight.
But… no one around him even flinched.
The agents and soldiers on site just glanced in the direction of the explosion, shook their heads, and kept going.
Not even blinking.
What the hell? Rorschach thought.
BANG!
A metal door burst open at the center of the blast site.
A short, round man with messy gray hair stumbled out coughing, waving smoke away from his face.
Rorschach's eyes widened.
No way. It's him.
Arnim Zola.
Once the top scientist under Red Skull—now supposedly reformed and working for S.H.I.E.L.D., thanks to Agent Carter flipping him after Hydra's collapse.
Of course, Rorschach knew the truth.
Zola never really switched sides. Even after his death, he kept working for Hydra—digitizing his consciousness and scheming from inside government mainframes.
But politics aside—Zola was still a genius-level scientist. The kind Hydra literally preserved after death.
The guy helped build Tesseract-powered weapons decades ahead of their time.
Clearly, the explosion had been a side effect of one of his experiments.
And clearly, this wasn't the first time—based on how casual everyone was acting about it.
"Zola!" Howard called out. "You alright?"
The scientist gave a thumbs-up and wheezed, "Just a small accident. Everything's under control!"
Then he disappeared back through the scorched metal doorway like nothing had happened.
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