Ah. So now the mask came off, and so did the gloves.
Of course Qubit knew what it was like. He'd known that feeling all his life. Even among friends, he usually felt like he was surrounded by idiots. In fact, Earth-β was the first place he'd really found people who could keep up with him intellectually (and weren't Modeus or aliens with minds beyond four-dimensional comprehension).
The rest of the speech was all too familiar, though. Being tired of self-restraint. Tired of using his powers for the good of people who, from the heights you can reach, look like ants. Insignificant, fragile, ordinary people. People who should be grateful for your help, who should adore you. Yeah, he'd heard this before. But at least this time, it wasn't from the mouth of a friend.
Qubit remained where he was, watching him through narrow eyes. Is this what it might have looked like, if the tables were turned? If he were the one who'd gone rogue? He couldn't say he'd never imagined such a scenario. How he'd do it. Or rather, how he'd do it if he lost all regard for human life. He didn't doubt he'd be nearly as terrifying as the Plutonian. He could be anywhere on Earth instantly. He could put every nuclear plant in the world into meltdown within an hour, probably. He could black out the power grid in half the country with a snap of his fingers, and he knew where to target to do it. He'd be able to plunge the world into chaos without firing a shot.
It was a dangerous road, all too easy to start down, but impossible to turn back from. It was the entire reason he held himself to such a high moral standard. There was so little to separate men from monsters.
Never again.
Tony was chugging hard liquor straight from the bottle now, with genuinely astounding speed. A normal person would have been unconscious and/or vomiting their guts out after half that much, but here he was, apparently unaffected. What was he, anyway?
Maybe because his attention was mostly on Stark, as the bottle broke, the armor managed to get the jump on him. Qubit found his arms painfully pinned, and it sent a momentary shock of alarm through him. He'd pushed far enough, come close enough to the truth, that Tony was actually going to try and kill him over it.
Try being the operative word.
"So that's how it is?" he shouted. Logic might still have his actions, but he let his anger out in his words. "You're going to take over the world, remake it in your own image? I can tell you right now, that's not going to work. You can be the smartest man in the world, and there'll still be variables you won't have accounted for."
Like, for instance, the fact that he was using a robot to restrain a guy whose power included making robots fall apart by looking at them funny. Someone hadn't done his homework. Qubit didn't make his move yet, though. Not until he could see the whites of Tony's eyes.
no subject
Of course Qubit knew what it was like. He'd known that feeling all his life. Even among friends, he usually felt like he was surrounded by idiots. In fact, Earth-β was the first place he'd really found people who could keep up with him intellectually (and weren't Modeus or aliens with minds beyond four-dimensional comprehension).
The rest of the speech was all too familiar, though. Being tired of self-restraint. Tired of using his powers for the good of people who, from the heights you can reach, look like ants. Insignificant, fragile, ordinary people. People who should be grateful for your help, who should adore you. Yeah, he'd heard this before. But at least this time, it wasn't from the mouth of a friend.
Qubit remained where he was, watching him through narrow eyes. Is this what it might have looked like, if the tables were turned? If he were the one who'd gone rogue? He couldn't say he'd never imagined such a scenario. How he'd do it. Or rather, how he'd do it if he lost all regard for human life. He didn't doubt he'd be nearly as terrifying as the Plutonian. He could be anywhere on Earth instantly. He could put every nuclear plant in the world into meltdown within an hour, probably. He could black out the power grid in half the country with a snap of his fingers, and he knew where to target to do it. He'd be able to plunge the world into chaos without firing a shot.
It was a dangerous road, all too easy to start down, but impossible to turn back from. It was the entire reason he held himself to such a high moral standard. There was so little to separate men from monsters.
Never again.
Tony was chugging hard liquor straight from the bottle now, with genuinely astounding speed. A normal person would have been unconscious and/or vomiting their guts out after half that much, but here he was, apparently unaffected. What was he, anyway?
Maybe because his attention was mostly on Stark, as the bottle broke, the armor managed to get the jump on him. Qubit found his arms painfully pinned, and it sent a momentary shock of alarm through him. He'd pushed far enough, come close enough to the truth, that Tony was actually going to try and kill him over it.
Try being the operative word.
"So that's how it is?" he shouted. Logic might still have his actions, but he let his anger out in his words. "You're going to take over the world, remake it in your own image? I can tell you right now, that's not going to work. You can be the smartest man in the world, and there'll still be variables you won't have accounted for."
Like, for instance, the fact that he was using a robot to restrain a guy whose power included making robots fall apart by looking at them funny. Someone hadn't done his homework. Qubit didn't make his move yet, though. Not until he could see the whites of Tony's eyes.