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V.G.D. Global Defense Headquarters.
"Sir."
Ashley walked in quickly, her high heels clicking on the floor.
She looked elated, clearly bearing good news.
"These are the financial forecast reports for the next quarter," Ashley said excitedly, placing the documents on the desk. "New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, London... one hundred and twenty-four major cities worldwide have proactively sent requests to renew or sign contracts."
Ashley tapped her holographic tablet, displaying various charts.
"Furthermore, thanks to Mr. Tony Stark's technical support, our hero response speed has increased by 20%, and the equipment wear-and-tear rate has dropped by 25%. Based on this, we have redrafted the service fee standards."
"How much of an increase?" Homelander turned around, leaning back in his chair.
"Basic security fees have gone up by 10% to 15%," Ashley said, unable to hide her excitement. "But that's not even the main part. The bulk comes from 'Collateral Damage Insurance' and 'Premium Hero Appearance Fees'."
"Especially you, Mr. Anthony." Ashley looked at Homelander as if she were staring at a gold mine. "Mayors are now willing to pay seven figures just to have you show your face in their cities, even if it's just a flyover. They say it boosts public confidence and drives tourism."
"Very good." Homelander nodded with satisfaction. "Tell them I'm happy to oblige. But my schedule is full; they'll have to wait in line."
"Also," Ashley swiped to the next page, "regarding the equipment upgrades for The Seven. Mr. Stark has sent over the first batch of prototypes..."
On the training grounds.
"Check this out."
Pietro rushed over like a gust of wind, coming to a dead stop in front of everyone.
He was wearing a brand-new, silver streamlined suit, the fabric shimmering slightly.
"Stark's tech is top-notch." Pietro smugly tugged at his collar. "The friction coefficient of this suit is almost undetectable to me. And..."
He pointed to his goggles.
"This thing has a built-in Tactical HUD that shows traffic conditions and enemy locations in real-time. It can even help me order takeout!"
"I got a new toy, too."
The voice of Shabby, The Invisible Man, came from thin air.
A The Invisible Man tactical vest suddenly manifested in the air.
"Adaptive Light-Refraction Camouflage." Shabby's voice was full of pride. "Now let's see who dares call me a useless accessory! This is a ten-million-dollar accessory!"
Jessica Jones sat on a nearby bench, examining her newly upgraded Vibranium Arm-Shield Gauntlets.
"After the upgrade, it has a built-in Impact generator." She curled her lip. "Tony says these are the same style of gauntlets as Wonder Woman's."
"Tony customized gear for each of us," Wanda said, walking over. "It seems he really wants to make amends."
This was Tony Stark's daily routine now.
As Vought's "free" technical consultant, he used high-intensity work to numb himself.
Under his modifications, the equipment level of V.G.D. had achieved a comprehensive upgrade.
But even working day and night like this couldn't dispel the shadows in his mind.
"Sir, your heart rate is rising," Jarvis reminded him. "I suggest you rest."
Tony picked up the cold coffee on the desk and downed it. The bitter taste cleared his head slightly.
But as soon as he closed his eyes, he would see images of New York destroyed and the Hulk roaring amidst the ruins in his dreams.
Just then, Bruce Banner walked into the lab.
He looked much better than before; it seemed Homelander's 'Godfather Therapy' was working well for both him and the Hulk.
Banner moved to the holographic console, looking at the complex data models before him with a furrowed brow.
"Tony, this is too radical," he said with concern. "You want to completely materialize the concept of ultron x? Even without the Mind Stone?"
"We don't need the stone, Banner."
"When Lorelei was controlling me, that scepter was plugged into my machine. My system recorded all the energy frequencies, wavelengths, and the logical algorithms for simulated thinking."
Tony walked to the console, his hands quickly enlarging a set of golden code.
"It's a neural network, more advanced than Jarvis, closer to life."
Banner looked at the frantically fluctuating data, a faint sense of unease in his heart.
"Tony, this might be... it's a Pandora's box. Once it gains self-awareness, it will be very difficult for us to control."
"That's why I added this."
Tony brought up the bottom-level core code. It was a line of instructions highlighted in red, like a commandment carved in stone.
It was the result of his several sleepless nights.
An unalterable piece of low-level code.
"Highest Authority Directive: Protect the survival of human life and civilization at all costs."
"...When Tony Stark's own directives, actions, or status conflict with the aforementioned goals, the system has the right to strip him of his command and take all necessary measures to stop Tony Stark."
Banner looked at Tony in shock.
"You... you built a gun and aimed it at your own head?"
"It's an insurance policy, Bruce."
Tony turned his head and pointed to his temple.
"Bruce, you don't know that feeling. I knew what I was doing, I knew I was firing missiles at innocent people, I knew I was drugging the Hulk... but I couldn't stop."
"The most terrifying part is that I even felt happy in that moment..."
"Therefore, Ultron must be absolutely rational, even... ruthless."
"It cannot be subject to me, nor to anyone else. Not even Anthony."
"It is responsible only for 'human survival'."
Banner remained silent for a long time.
As the Hulk's host, he understood the fear of 'losing control' better than anyone.
"...Alright."
Banner sighed and walked to another console.
"Let's begin."
As their fingers danced, a massive stream of data began to pour in.
On the holographic projection, a blue sphere resembling a brain slowly lit up... Moscow, a Drive-in Theater that had been abandoned for twenty years.
In the weed-choked parking lot, only an inconspicuous Ford sedan was parked.
The window was halfway down, and a hand reached out, flicking cigarette ash.
It was the hand of a white man.
It was Nick Fury. Sitting in the driver's seat, he looked at the face in the rearview mirror, still somewhat unaccustomed to it.
The skin, reshaped by Hellfire, felt no different from a normal person's, but he knew that what flowed beneath this skin was no longer simple blood.
"Knock, knock."
Someone knocked twice on the passenger-side window.
Nicholas didn't look back; he just pressed the central lock button.
The door opened, and a middle-aged man in a gray trench coat sat down inside.
He looked ordinary, like a salesman you'd see anywhere.
"You're late, Talos."