The Avengers One-Shot #2 starring The Vision!
“Revolving Door of Life & Death”
By Scott Redmond
Where am I?
I can’t feel anything. Could I ever feel anything though? I suppose that is truly the question. Was anything I felt truly real, or was it part of the programming that existed within me? Rather, the programming that existed within the one that came before. The one that I was created from.
Avenger. Hero. Son of Ultron. Grandson of Henry Pym. Husband. Father.
The list went on and on.
Compared to him I was just a pale imitation. The younger version that came from his remains. Not metaphorical. His actual remains.
They called me Vision, but I was Jonas.
A fusion of the programs that made up Vision, along with that of the armor of Nathanial Richards, otherwise known as Iron Lad or Kang the Conqueror. A hero as a young man, destined to become a time spanning dictator of the highest order. His struggles led him to the past to try and change his future.
Led to my birth. Led to my life as a Young Avenger.
Cassie Lang. She loved Iron Lad, and turned to me after he was gone because I was like him. More him than I was Vision. It hurt at first, or did it? Yes it did. I remember the pain. Emotions. It hurt that she wanted him and was using me. Then she loved me for me. I loved her. Didn’t I? Yes I did. I was in love. Can a synthezoid love? Vision loved.
He loved the Scarlet Witch. It fell apart, but he loved her. Had children with her. Lost those children. Was killed by her when the grief and madness took her.
He died. I died. Didn’t I? Yes, I did. Cassie…she died. Doom. Doom killed her. Iron Lad…he killed me. His grief. A full circle. Vision killed by a grieving hero once more.
Was I doomed to repeat all that Vision went through? Was it all just a cycle that we are all stuck upon, unable to change our destiny? Did I truly have a destiny or was this all part of the program? The program called life?
Too many questions. I’ve been floating for so long. Didn’t realize I was floating. Days? Years? I’m not sure.
It all seems the same. Whiteness everywhere I look.
Am I in the afterlife?
Can someone like me go to the human afterlife? Perhaps I’m just floating nowhere, my data and personality scattered like grains of sand upon the winds to be forgotten and ignored for all eternity.
Did my life truly matter?
It must have. To have such thoughts, I must have meant something. Right? I believe humans say it’s a sign of madness to speak to oneself. Perhaps I’m mad.
“You’re not mad Jonas.”
Who said that?
“It matters not who I am. Just that I am.”
“Of course you are. You’re dead. That’s quite a confusing journey. Trust me, been there before. It’s no fun.”
I don’t understand.
“No one really does I suppose. If you really think about it. So you fit right in.”
What happens next?
“On the choice you make.”
“The choice we all make at some point, even if we don’t realize it. Life or death.”
I…I don’t understand.
“How do you think all those supposed heroes and villains keep coming back? Did you truly think it was just chance?”
They chose to come back?
“Of course they did. You can’t bring back the unwilling. They don’t realize it but at a certain point they made the choice to come back.”
That’s all it takes?
“Of course not. Don’t be silly. That would be ridiculous. Can you imagine how full the world would be if the dead could just decide to come back? You don’t see Hitler just waltzing around do you? Maybe you’re not the one that I thought you were.”
“You don’t even know what I was thinking.”
It doesn’t matter. I’m ready. I chose life.
“Hmm now you’re getting it.”
What happens next?
“Life my boy. Life.”
A flash of light filled the small alleyway; a figure tumbled from the sky and crashed to the ground. Eyes blinked at the sky, taking it all in. Everything felt right. Whatever that meant. There was no longer the expanse of whiteness. Instead there was a blue sky and the foul smell of garbage, which was expected since there was a dumpster nearby.
“I’m alive,” Jonas said softly to himself.
Instantly various systems began to carry out their purpose, scanning the rest of his systems to ensure that everything was nominal. Not only did everything seem to be in order, it was fresh & clean. Practically new. As new as the systems that were within a 31st century armor trapped within the 21st century could be. If not for the memories that were stored within Jonas would almost believe that he had truly just been activated and brought to life for the first time at this very moment.
Thoughts drifted back to the voice, the one that had led him to this path. It was all fuzzy, vague notions of what happened in that afterlife. Within moments it was all gone. Not a single trace seemed to remain. Instead he just knew that one moment he had been killed by Iron Lad in front of the X-Men and the Avengers, then here he was now. A simple check showed that quite some time passed since his death.
Rising into the sky, he stared out across the vast landscape of New York City. There was so much that had been missed in his time away. So much confusion surrounded his return. A memory of a voice. A promise made, but forgotten. There was something he was supposed to do with his new life, but he could not remember.
“The Avengers,” Jonas said staring towards the heart of the city. “I must find the Avengers.”
To Be Continued in The Avengers #1!