Just as everyone was working together to find a crack in this mysterious behind-the-scenes manipulator, Nick sent word that there had been some issues with the Stella Core Space Station.
The cause of the problem was very complex, amounting to a series of coincidences. However, the fact that it happened at this particular moment in time did not escape the awareness of these old foxes – it was almost certainly some people's ploy to divert attention.
Thus, the Luminous Alliance convened once again, but this time, things were obviously different. For instance, the way Nick looked at Shiller, with such disdain that his one remaining eye seemed nearly to roll back into his head.
Loki's gaze upon Shiller was tinged with complexity, for with Valhalla residing in Asgard, he frequently flipped through the Heavenly Union Office's register.
The birth and death of most races were on record, barring Death itself. Moreover, local agencies were able to check the specific cause of death for certain individuals. Loki, when seeing the same name behind a staggering number of entries on the list of the dead, started to grasp what Shiller meant by their underestimating its danger.
The conversation quickly got to the point when Nick laid out the Stella Core Space Station issues and their causes, leaving everyone somewhat speechless.
Here's what had happened.
The Stella Core Space Station was the product of international effort, which is to say its technology and manufacturing did not come from a single nation. Manufacturing was one thing, generally completed in East Asia, but technology was another story—various technologies came from multiple continents, with many countries participating.
China, the US, Russia, and Wakanda were the leading nations. The technology for the main body of the station came from China, the US, and Russia, while Wakanda was chiefly responsible for the design and construction of the small shuttles that traveled to and from the station.
Then there were several smaller countries tasked with improving living comfort and researching and producing components for space science projects, like those in Northern Europe that jointly developed the oxygen recycling system and the smart home system, while Australia was in charge of developing culture dishes for space plant experiments.
When the plan was first laid out, everyone was more or less satisfied. The major powers felt it showcased their technological prowess well, laying the foundation for the next step of technological development, while the minor nations thought it was easier to follow the lead of the major powers without taking on great responsibility. Making some simple and easy supplemental components, they too could ride the wave of history. Both sides essentially struck an agreement at once.
But there was one exception, and that was India.
If you called India a minor nation, India would surely object. Whether in terms of land area or population, it couldn't be considered a minor nation by any stretch. Even a tiny place like Wakanda vied for a position among the powerhouses, striving for a leading technical role. How could India give up?
But then again, China, the US, and Russia all had solid foundations to showcase, with technologies that were, if not world-shattering, at least reputable and solid. They had something to proud of.
But what about India?
Though not abundant in technology, India certainly had no shortage of confidence; it vehemently believed that it could successfully build anything if you just entrusted the task to them.
This fostered their consistent attitude: don't worry about whether I have the technology to build it. If you don't provide me the opportunity, it's your fault. There's bound to be trouble.
The others were willing to give India a chance, but when asked what technologies and industrial standards they had, India couldn't provide an answer. Nevertheless, they insisted on being given the opportunity; anything less would be perceived as a snub, a concerted effort to bully them.
Faced with this thuggish belligerence, the other countries were at a loss. If they agreed to let India build, everyone knew in their hearts that India lacked any core technology. Even if they had been serious about their work, they could have produced some simple supplemental components like the other minor nations.
They could have easily tasked them with something like making shield casings that sound important but involve little technological content.
But the problem was that even when tasked with making these supplemental components, they couldn't manage it. During the peak period of space exploration, more than 80% of the accidents in the near-Earth region were related to spacecraft manufactured by India. One incident had almost brought down Reed's near-Earth research station, infuriating Reed enough to nearly open a wormhole above India's capital.
With such a track record, who would dare entrust them with any project?
But India was the type of nation that would rather badger to the extreme than improve its core competitiveness. It didn't matter if they lacked the technology; they would use diplomatic means to secure the rights to construct core components, boasting their national might and furthering their ambition to join the United Nations.
The Indian government began to implement all sorts of innovative lobbying, launching campaigns on the internet, claiming that the United Nations wanted to leave India behind on Earth and monopolize space resources. This, they said, was akin to genocide and they would not stand for it.
Truth be told, their campaigns had little effect on other nations, but they were just too annoying. Besides, with such a large population, it didn't seem right to exclude them entirely.
The UN Security Council P5 thought it over and decided that among the myriad components of the space station, they could surely find one that was not only easy to make but whose failure would have no impact whatsoever—most importantly, it would need almost no technology to produce. They assigned India to make that part.
In the end, it was decided that the decorative tapestries hanging in the dormitories would be completed by Indian artisans.
Of course, they didn't avoid having to sugarcoat it a bit for India. In summary, they said it had to reflect national characteristics and fit within the realm of psychology by incorporating a color palette with positive suggestions, among a long list of other complicated demands. Although no one expected them to meet these, the task had to be made to sound difficult and important.
India did not disappoint, as they sent the tapestry to the space station only two months after it had officially begun operation, and within less than a week, it had caused at least six space station staff members to suffer from allergies.
Nobody knew at first that it was the tapestry causing this problem because with tens of thousands of employees on the space station, it was not uncommon for people to get sick at the same time. Moreover, when allergies were mentioned, most people thought it was food-related, so the cafeteria was the first to be inspected, not the dormitories, meaning the true culprit escaped detection for a while.
However, not long after, more and more people began exhibiting similar allergic reactions, such as skin rashes that were painful and itchy, along with constant sneezing, coughing, and runny noses. That's when it was finally suspected that there might be some allergen in the air such as dust.
But even then, the decorative items in the dormitories weren't the ones under suspicion; instead, it was the air circulation systems made by several smaller countries that were doubted. These countries conducted thorough investigations but found no issues. They ended up changing the filters and air supply, and that seemed to conclude the matter.
After all, no one could imagine that a small decorative item, less than two square meters, could be such a potent allergen, leading to a belated recognition of a widespread allergy outbreak.
About three days ago, the number of ill had spread to hundreds, triggering a health alert and prompting China-US-Russia to meet overnight to figure out what the issue was.
They were mainly concerned about a possible contagious disease. Although the space station operated in a near-Earth orbit, it occasionally hosted alien visitors, and the potential for introducing a human-race-ending contagion was too dire to ignore.
For this reason, they did not dare to bring the sick back to Earth, preferring to send doctors up instead. Several countries bit the bullet and sent a few doctors, and fortunately, it turned out to be just allergies.
After extensive investigations, the true culprit was finally identified. A batch of the tapestries had been processed near an asbestos factory, causing invisible fibrous particles to be woven into the fabrics, ultimately triggering severe allergic reactions.
Knowing that India was responsible was no surprise to anyone; they were too fed up to bother complaining and simply moved the patients back to Earth and sent new personnel to the station.
Uncle Ben Parker also suffered from the allergies. He was the principal engineer in charge of the power maintenance department at the time and due to his age, had a severe allergic response and was swiftly moved back to Earth for treatment, which meant Peter had no choice but to accompany him.
With the principal engineer gone and no suitable replacement found immediately, the assistant chief engineer took over temporarily.
Unfortunately, due to inadequate handover and his own mediocre abilities, chaos ensued shortly after taking charge. Two rooms in the power area suffered blackouts that had yet to be restored, leading to the Luminous Alliance sitting together to discuss what to do.
Of course, it wasn't that the problem was unsolvable. They were actually discussing what stance to take. Nick, in particular, adamantly refused to allow these superpowered individuals to intervene, consistently adhering to his and Strange's belief that ordinary humans must learn to walk on their own.
"Here is what I think," Nick began, sharing his opinion, "I know that this can potentially trigger a series of chain reactions, and might even lead to some dangerous situations. Emergency procedures for ordinary people might be anything, but they should not involve superheroes. Does anyone agree with me?"
"I understand your dislike for superpower users acting as babysitters for ordinary people," Professor X said with empathy, "The drawback to this is obvious. The cosmos is so vast. When we truly enter the interstellar colonial era, the large number of ordinary humans scattered throughout the cosmos will be negligible, and superheroes will be even less able to attend to all. We may have more critical tasks to undertake, and by then, they can't be relying on a phone call to beckon us back to resolve their chaos."
By that, he meant he somewhat agreed with Nick that ordinary folks needed to develop their own emergency procedures, rather than calling out for superheroes the moment trouble arose. What if one time they weren't quick enough to return, would they just be left to perish?
Even with superheroes around, it's not guaranteed that calamities could always be avoided; after all, many civilizations in the cosmic universe have been wiped out by sheer coincidence.
They may not depend on themselves, but at the very least, they should be reliable on their own.
"That's nothing," Stark dismissed with a wave of his hand, "My mechanical army is enough to keep an eye on every corner, even of hundreds of galaxies; what trouble can they not solve?"
"So you plan to condemn them to a future under the watchful eyes of robots?" Nick asked sarcastically.
"You've watched too many movies. Robots can only offer assistance, they're just there to ensure their safety."
"Then they'll never be able to live without robots," Strange chimed in, supporting the argument, even though he didn't really agree with Nick. Any opportunity to refute Stark was good enough for him.
The group quickly got into a heated argument, with Stark fending off several others. It wasn't that he thought emergency drills for ordinary people were a bad idea; rather, Nick's attitude seemed to suggest that Stark's help was superfluous, leaving them to walk forward with caution and trepidation.
Ultimately, it was Shiller who settled the matter. Emergency drills were definitely necessary, but given that this was the first time, superheroes needed to have a watchful eye, preventing any simulations from turning into real disasters.
And the strongest backup was naturally Stark, who could inconspicuously mount robots onto the space station, ready to become a hidden backup power source and rescue the human occupants in case of any issues.
To ensure ordinary people understood the importance of emergency drills, minor incidents like allergies and power outages were insufficient. There had to be something more dramatic, like a "space station crash," to instill a sense of urgency.
Both sides having reached a satisfactory conclusion, stood up ready to get to work. Just then, Nick called out to Shiller.