“A weasel who tried to get me to fund his stupid think tank thirteen years ago.” If he could go back, he’d have gone up on that roof and pushed the bastard off. Let him see desperation then. “Aldrich Killian. Formed a group called AIM. I wasn’t impressed by his work, I was actually drunk at the time, and I stood him up for meeting he tried to badger me into attending. So he got a little crazy, got some help from an old one-night stand, and he branched out. Formed the Ten Rings.”

He starts to lift his free hand, intending to tap his finger against the reactor, only to remember that it isn’t there and drop it again. “He came back, tried to pitch his idea to Pepper. And woo her or something, I don’t know. Happy said he was showing her his brain. I wasn’t listening. Anyway, he was pedaling a faulty supersoldier serum and backing a terrorist organization that was attacking America. Swell guy. He’s dead now. Pepper killed him. But he made a huge mess before he kicked the bucket.”