Time. Space. Reality.
It's more than a linear path.
It's a prism, of endless possibility.
Where a single choice can branch out into infinite realities.
Creating alternate worlds from the ones you know.
I am a Writer.
I am your guide through this vast new reality.
Follow me, and ponder the question, "What if the timeline of
2020:SF had superhero's from the Marvel Universe?"
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Steve dangled his legs over the remains of the balcony of Stark Tower. Now effectively a burnt out shell, the tower stands empty as a symbol to… something. Probably. Steve was too depressed to figure out what it was. He looked out across the streets below. People moved about their day in a city that was once the soul of the very things he stood for. The nation he was named after. As he tried to wrangle with the feelings of his lost meaning, he heard boots crunching slagged glass. It seemed like the person was having a hard time climbing the stairs so he heard them long before the voice belonging to those boots spoke out to him.
"Ah comrade, it's good to finally meet you! I wish it was in more peaceful times but you can't control the machinations of man now can you?"
It wasn't a voice Steve recognized. Confused, he turned to face the man approaching him. A bearded man, in a suit like his. Except all red.
"Uh, hello. Who might you be?"
The man looked a little hurt at that. Like he was expecting Steve to recognize him like a long lost friend.
"I am what you may call your geopolitical rival. An ideological opposite to you. Or I might be. I don't know if I still am. Both of the nations we once sought to represent are now ashes. The super name is the Red Guardian if you are unaware."
Steve realized all the implications of those words. He looked back out across the city. It may be as pink as a flamingo due to it being under DSA control, but it had a red beating heart and he knew it.
"Heh, I guess I was a symbol for liberal capitalist democracy. So you must be a symbol for communism. Seeing by your tattoos you're a true believer."
"I was a true believer, yes. Thirty years and fifty pounds ago."
The man was standing over Steve now, looking out over the city with him.
"Do you mind if I sit, comrade? I expect to talk for a bit more with you before going on my way. Though now that I say that it will be silly if this goes nowhere."
Steve signaled for him to take a seat. He was curious where this would go. Was he here to gloat over the collapse of the USA? Or to share some words about dealing with losing your place in the world?
"Have you ever eaten borscht?"
"Uh… no. I can't say I ever heard of it."
"Ah no surprise. It's basically peasant food where I come from. It can taste quite good. The delicious beet's it is made of give it beautiful red color. But the reason I bring it up is that I had it a lot when I was younger. It was simple, only few ingredients. Had it all the time. Eventually I got so use to it I could no longer taste it. You could even say I got sick of it. But it was all I knew as my family was from a small village in the Soviet countryside with only a small garden we would tend to as my father was off working the fields. He tried his best to give us uh, what's the expression, spice of life? We would go fishing and get bread from the breadline. But our garden was where we got most of our food in the form of vegetables. Uh, where was I going with this…"
"Sounds to me like you're getting nostalgic for a childhood meal."
"Right! Childhood nostalgia. Think of your childhood like I think of borscht! You remember the good times of USA right? Before WW2 when everything was simple and they were the ultimate good guys or what not? But it's all nostalgia. I remember having few options for having a better life. Eating shit food and living in squalor in the Siberian countryside of the USSR. I had to join the army and become a superhero to live better. You can probably remember how bad it actually was in the USA right? Or at least you can remember how much others may have hated it. Weren't the 30's an ultimate showing of how bad American Capitalism would fail a man? Didn't you join the army to escape it?"
Steve did remember the 30's like they were only a few short years ago. The Great Depression, the breadlines, his father worrying about pay. The unions are the local plants agitating for change. He joined the army to serve his country not to escape the hardships of the Great Depression. Even still, thanks to FDR, for others there was a path forward for the nation. But these last few years. Since 2020 when the nation seemed to reach a fever pitch that just never quite settled down, going through ineffective leaders like a game of musical chairs, an economy that just would not recover, and a war that broke the nations spirit and military might. There just did not seem to be a path forward for anyone. A stiff breeze snapped him out of his thoughts for a second and he realized he had been lost in thought for a while. The Red Guardian was still there, picking at his fingers and looking out across the city. Steve tried again to guess his intentions.
"Ah I see, trying to make me red?"
"You had to think about for a while didn't you comrade? No, no, not really. More like, trying to show you that both the nations we tried to represent were pretty shit. It's more that I am trying to help you realize that and find your own path. Though I don't know if I am any good at that seeing as I have been wallowing in self-pity in a hole for thirty years."
"Yeah, you've worked with Black Widow's right? Or something. I remember she told me about rescuing you from prison once."
"Oh she mentioned me? Oh that's nice."
Red Guardian fell silent with a slight smile on his lips as they continued to look out across the city. Steve thought about what he said. How good was the nation he was supposed to represent before it died? Did it represent the ideals he and it were supposed to embody? Liberty, Justice, Freedom and Democracy? There were multiple sides in this civil war that said no or yes to multiple of those questions. Were they right? Where those the values that he was trying to strive to protect? Or was he just trying to do what is Right? If so, what is right? Could he to choose a side? Should he choose a side? Should he continue being a superhero at all? He was snapped out of his trail of questioning thoughts by the Red Guardian.
"Captain, sorry to bother you as I can see you were deep in thought. This tower, was it not owned by that Capitalist? Uh, what's his name. Terry Stork?"
"Uh, yeah. Stark. Tony Stark. I think his name is on the building. Or I guess it was before it burnt off. He's somewhere in New England now. Sucking up to Yeager."
"Haha, Capitalists have to stick together, yeah? Why did you not follow him? Why stay here in New York surrounded by reds?"
Steve didn't know how to answer. Before Steve could answer, they heard heavy footsteps coming from the stairwell. They both jumped up to face the stairwell and see who was coming. When out popped Bruce Banner.
"Oh, hey. Sorry Steve didn't know you had company right now. I could come back later if you want?"
"Oh hello comrade! You're the infamous Hulk right? Why are you wearing glasses?"
Bruce was standing in the middle of the room looking perturbed by the new person calling him Comrade.
"Uh, yeah. Sort of. I need the glasses because of this, thing, I did, I'm the Hulk and Bruce Banner and uhm, look, Steve, can I speak to you in private for a second?"
"No, it's fine you can say it between us. He's a friend."
Red Guardian looked surprised. Guess he wasn't expecting to be called a friend so soon after meeting his "ideological opposite".
"Yeah, so I just got the S.H.I.E.L.D. database cracked open and am sending the data to vision. Him and Scarlet Witch are in some commune in Cascadia. The connection is a bit slow so it will take about two hours to copy it all. Just wanted to give you the heads-up."
"Thanks bruce. Just make sure the HYDRA cell doesn't wake up and figure out there's a connection and we should be good. Wouldn't want to explain to Cortez why there is suddenly a firefight in midtown."
Bruce gave him a thumbs up and a nod and went to climb back down the stairs.
"Comrade! I did not realize you were doing a mission."
"Uh yeah you could call it a mission. It's more of a favor for a friend."
"Oh, If it's not too much to ask could I lend a hand? Help another lost soul in these trying times?"
Steve pondered that for a minute. Could they trust this newcomer? He'll have to ask Widow for confirmation of if this is actually him. She was somewhere across the ocean and he'll have to figure out how to contact her.
"Help us? What were you doing here in the first place? Here in America I mean. Don't you want to be back home in Russia or wherever it is you live?"
"Pah, not while the world revolution needs advancing comrade. I may have hated the old USSR, but that doesn't mean I didn't take communist teachings to heart. I am the Red Guardian after all. So I might as well Guard some Reds as you may say. I was headed to Chicago to offer my hand. But I decided to stop in New York after getting off the boat, I am glad I did."
"Must have been lucky to know I was here in the tower."
"Well, I heard some discussion on the streets below and decided to check the rumors of a giant green man and a man with a skin tight suit walked into a burnt out tower."
"Yeah I guess that wasn't exactly subtle of us. Could you handle yourself on our team? We are superheroes after all and I don't think I have heard of your exploits."
"Steve, Steve, may I call you Steve? I received the same super soldier serum you did! I have done countless, well classified, missions. Some of my missions were unclassified, but I guess the American Press would not publish those victories far and wide. You can trust me in a fight I promise."
Steve pondered this for a minute. This mission, attacking a HYDRA base in the Aryan Bastion State, was important. And one that would save many lives. Including some friends, and former friends. Steve sighed softly and smiled at the Red Guardian.
"Alright Red Guardian. Let me introduce you to the team. The rest are down below."
He stood up and offered his hand to his newest… comrade. Who stared at it with a mixture of disbelief and awe before quickly taking it and shaking vigorously. Yeah that was a super serum grip
"Thank you Steve, please call me Alexi. I'll show you this old Soviet Bear can still roar."
As the two stood there shaking hands on a burnt out balcony in midtown manhattan as a dead nation convulsed and fought below them, a pair of cosmic eyes watched the events unfold. Knowing this is only the beginning of this particular story.