V.G.D. Global Defense Headquarters.
"Sir."
Ashley strode in on sharp heels, barely containing her excitement.
She looked like someone carrying a winning lottery ticket.
"This is the projected financial forecast for next quarter." She placed a sleek digital folder on Antony's desk. "New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, London… one hundred and twenty-four major cities worldwide have proactively requested renewals or new contracts."
She tapped her holographic tablet, and graphs burst into the air—green upward arrows everywhere.
"And thanks to Mr. Tony Stark's technical support, our hero response time has improved by 20%, and equipment attrition has dropped by 25%. Based on that, we've restructured our service pricing."
"How much did we raise it?" Antony leaned back in his chair.
"Base security fees are up 10–15%," Ashley said, eyes gleaming. "But that's not the real revenue spike. The big money comes from 'Collateral Damage Insurance' and 'Premium Hero Appearance Packages.'"
She looked at him like he was a walking gold reserve.
"Especially you, Mr. Homelander. Mayors are willing to pay seven figures just for you to fly over their city once. They claim it boosts public confidence and tourism."
"Good."
Antony nodded with satisfaction.
"Tell them I'm happy to help. But my schedule is tight. They'll have to queue."
"Additionally," Ashley swiped to the next slide, "The Seven's equipment upgrades. Mr. Stark has delivered the first batch of prototypes."
…
Training Grounds.
"Check this out."
Pietro arrived like a gust of wind and stopped dead in front of the others.
He wore a sleek, silver aerodynamic suit, faintly shimmering.
"Stark's tech is no joke." Pietro tugged proudly at the collar. "The friction coefficient is so low I barely feel drag. And—"
He tapped his visor.
"Built-in tactical HUD. Real-time terrain mapping and enemy tracking. It can even order takeout for me."
"I got new gear too."
The voice of Invisible Man echoed through the air.
A semi-transparent tactical vest materialized midair.
"Adaptive light-refraction camouflage," Silas Lawton said proudly. "Let's see who calls me a background prop now. This prop costs ten million dollars."
Jessica Jones sat on a bench, studying her upgraded vibranium bracer-shield.
"Shockwave generator installed," she muttered. "Tony says it's 'Wonder Woman edition.'"
Wanda approached quietly.
"Tony custom-designed equipment for each of us. He really is trying to make up for things."
…
That was Tony Stark's life now.
Vought's "free" technical consultant.
He buried himself in work—brutally, obsessively.
Under his modifications, V.G.D.'s equipment standards had leaped an entire generation.
But even sleepless nights and endless coding couldn't erase the shadows in his head.
"Sir, your heart rate is elevated," JARVIS reminded him. "Rest is recommended."
Tony grabbed a cup of cold coffee and drained it.
The bitterness steadied him.
But every time he closed his eyes—
He saw New York in flames.
The Hulk roaring through ruins.
"Tony."
Bruce Banner stepped into the lab.
He looked healthier now. Antony's earlier intervention had stabilized both him and the Hulk.
Banner walked toward the holographic console, frowning at the cascading data.
"This is aggressive," Banner said cautiously. "You're trying to fully materialize the Ultron-X concept? Even without the Scepter?"
"We don't need the Scepter."
Tony expanded a golden lattice of code in midair.
"When Lorelei controlled me, the Scepter was embedded in my systems. I recorded everything—energy frequencies, wavelengths, cognitive simulation algorithms."
He zoomed in on a pulsing neural network.
"It's a neuronal architecture. More advanced than JARVIS. Closer to life."
Banner stared at the surging data, unease settling in his chest.
"Tony… this could be Pandora's box. If it gains self-awareness, we may not control it."
"I thought of that."
Tony pulled up the core code.
At the foundation was a red-highlighted command—immutable. Untouchable.
His creation from sleepless nights.
Supreme Directive:
Protect the survival of human life and civilization at all costs.
Beneath it—
If Tony Stark's commands, behavior, or condition conflict with the above objective, the system is authorized to override him and take all necessary measures to neutralize Tony Stark.
Banner stared.
"You built a gun… and aimed it at your own head."
"It's insurance, Bruce."
Tony tapped his temple.
"You don't know what that felt like. I knew I was firing missiles at civilians. I knew I was drugging the Hulk. I knew exactly what I was doing… and I couldn't stop."
"The worst part? A piece of me enjoyed it."
Silence.
Ultron's neural matrix pulsed faintly in blue.
"It must be absolute logic," Tony continued. "Even cold. It cannot answer to me. Or to anyone. Not even Homelander."
"It answers only to human survival."
Banner exhaled slowly.
As the Hulk's host, he understood the terror of losing control better than anyone.
"…All right."
He moved to another console.
"Let's begin."
Their fingers danced across holographic interfaces.
Massive data streams poured into the construct.
On-screen, a glowing blue sphere—resembling a digital brain—slowly ignited.
-----
Moscow.
An abandoned drive-in theater, deserted for twenty years.
Weeds overtook the parking lot.
Only one unremarkable Ford sedan sat beneath the rusting screen.
The driver's window was cracked open. A hand flicked ash from a cigarette.
A white man's hand.
In the driver's seat sat Nick Fury—or at least the face he wore now.
The Hellfire that had remade his body had given him flawless new skin.
But he knew what flowed beneath it was no longer simply blood.
Knock. Knock.
Two taps on the passenger window.
Fury didn't turn.
He simply unlocked the door.
It opened.
A middle-aged man in a gray trench coat slipped inside. Ordinary. Forgettable. Like a traveling salesman.
"You're late, Talos."
--------------
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