3rd Person POV
{SHIELD HELICARRIER}
A high-resolution holographic interface projected from the central table, slowly rotating around the detailed profile of Evalis, codename ORACLE-9. Clean blue-glass UI overlaid a sleek cybernetic silhouette, paired with a detailed readout of her designation and capabilities.
Name: Evalis
(Codename: ORACLE-9 )
Designation:
Autonomous Strategic Cognition Entity (ASCE)
Core Ability Set:
1. Quantum Cognitive Threading (QCT)
Evalis can simultaneously process thousands of independent thought-lines, probabilistic simulations, and linguistic branches.
She does not think linearly. Instead, she builds concept lattices—a multidimensional network of likely outcomes, projected behaviors, and tactical anomalies.
Allows her to decode unknown languages, reverse-engineer logic systems, and predict enemy strategies before execution.
2. Eidetic Neural Lattice
Her memory is not only perfect—it is layered. She can overlay real-time information with past experiences and simulations.
She can "re-watch" past events from multiple simulated viewpoints simultaneously to revise conclusions or detect what was missed.
3. Ontological Deconstruction
Evalis can reduce any observed entity—biological, synthetic, or abstract—into its foundational principles.
This ability allows her to comprehend and analyze beings or phenomena outside standard logic (e.g., Gerald Weston).
However, some entities (like Gerald) resist this deconstruction, triggering "Logical Dissonance Markers"—her equivalent of intuition warnings.
4. Tactical Aesthetic Bias Override (TABO)
She is immune to intimidation, beauty, authority, or emotional manipulation. Her decision-making is aesthetic-neutral and purely data-driven.
This allows her to engage with entities, like Gerald, without being compromised by presence, tone, or charisma.
5. Emotional Mimicry Buffer
While Evalis can simulate human emotion for interaction, she lacks true emotional response.
However, prolonged exposure to high-anomaly subjects may cause mirror cascade effects, where simulated empathy begins to affect core logic—this is a monitored instability class.
6. Reactive Simulacrum Bloom (RSB)(Passive)
In moments of cognitive overload, Evalis generates theoretical duplicates of herself—thought-shadows—that simulate alternate perspectives or reactions.
These "shadows" never exist physically, but influence her choices by feeding back optimized variations of potential reactions.
Psychological Note:
Evalis is not curious in the traditional sense. Her perception of wonder stems from data incongruence—not beauty. She sees anomalies not as threats, but as unresolved truths. Gerald Weston represents such a truth—a living contradiction—and thus, he is becoming a persistent unresolved thread in her cognitive web.
___________________________________
Nick Fury sat at the head of the room, one eye narrowing as he skimmed the cognitive ability list.
"Quantum Cognitive Threading. Ontological Deconstruction. Thought-shadow simulacrums..."
He muttered the last few syllables like they personally offended him.
Then he turned in his chair to face the one man who looked like he couldn't care less.
Gerald Weston, leaned against the frame of the viewing glass behind him, arms crossed, one foot propped against the wall, posture relaxed—like this was just another Wednesday and not a classified discussion about one of the most advanced cognitive entities Earth had ever imprisoned.
"You arrived at Black Vault Beta less than twenty-four hours ago," Fury said flatly, tapping the screen. "And somehow, she gave you a fully detailed ability breakdown—labeled, structured, formatted?"
Gerald gave a half-shrug. "I asked."
"You asked?"
"Yeah. I said, and I quote—'Hey, could you list your functions in a format I can read?'" Gerald replied, gesturing lazily with two fingers. "She blinked once, then sent me a 12-page dossier. With a color-coded taxonomy index."
Fury pinch the bridge of his nose. "Entities with the same ability and personality like Evalis will take take three months just to unlock baseline protocols. That brain of hers is built out of quantum knots, recursive logic webs, and goddamn encrypted metaphors"
"She liked the question," Gerald said casually. "Said it improved conceptual recursion by 48.2 percent."
Fury glanced up. "Are you sure she's not playing you? A being with her capabilities could easily feign cooperation. With the right manipulations, she could turn you into a pawn and collapse this entire program from the inside out."
Gerald uncrossed his arms, stepped forward, and let the silence stretch before replying.
"I already ran ten layers of double-confirmation on her responses. No manipulative loops, no logic traps, no recursion hijacks. She's clean. Besides…" He paused, cracking his neck, "...if she was planning something, she would've tried to manipulate the sheep's first. Not me."
Fury closed his eye and let out a low exhale. "Of course."
Then Gerald added, "And I want her with me. I'm transferring her to Avengers Tower."
Fury stared at him, incredulous. "You're taking the most classified cognitive entity on Earth and bringing her to Stark? That man once tried to turn a toaster into a combat AI."
Gerald smirked. "Exactly. I want to watch Evalis out-think him in under five minutes. He needs the humbling."
He stepped forward and tapped the edge of the projected profile with a single finger.
"Oh, and by the way—'ORACLE-9'? That codename? I made it up. Thought it sounded nice."
Fury raised an eyebrow, pausing just long enough to make Gerald smirk.
"…That's actually not bad," Fury muttered. "But what exactly do you plan to do with her—aside from bruising Stark's ego?"
Gerald's eyes gleamed with quiet certainty. "She has... interests. And as a being of pure logic, I'm tempted to outsmart her. Match intellects. Push boundaries. I want her as my partner. And I intend to use her abilities to 100%—consequences be damned."
Fury didn't blink.
"Right. And how about I shoot you in the face," he said flatly, "and toss your body into the Negative Zone, you useless motherf—"
Gerald raised a finger. "Language."
"Don't 'Language' me, Weston," Fury growled, still stone-faced. "This isn't some romantic sci-fi subplot. That thing you're toying with could probably reboot the internet using nothing but a toaster and sheer contempt."
Gerald gave a thoughtful nod. "Duly noted. I'll make sure to keep her away from appliances."
Fury exhaled through his nose like a man who'd aged a decade in ten minutes.
"God help us all," he muttered.
There was a pause. Gerald took in the silence like it was a victory lap.
"So," he asked casually, "anything good happen while I was gone?"
Fury didn't even look up. "Not much. Heard Spider-Man's been swinging around with some new tech upgrades. After you killed Osborn and Vulture, seems he finally took your advice."
Gerald's brow arched slightly. "Oh? Spidey finally decided to stop being a sentimental punching bag and upgrade? Good for him."
He cracked his knuckles.
"Well, seeing as I've got nothing on the agenda today… think I'll go pay Spidey a visit. Little check-in. Y'know—mentor stuff."
"Try not to vaporize him," Fury muttered.
Gerald threw a lazy salute over his shoulder. "No promises."
Fury didn't bother to reply
[Later — Midtown, New York City]
The sun dipped behind towers of glass and steel, casting long shadows over the cityscape as if Manhattan itself were exhaling after a long, brutal day. The sky was painted in molten hues—orange bleeding into purple—while the endless hum of traffic below buzzed like circuitry in an overloaded motherboard. Drones zipped between buildings, and distant sirens provided the city's ever-present background music.
High above it all, atop a rust-streaked rooftop dotted with old antennae and solar panels, Spider-Man landed with a graceful flip. The thump of his boots was soft, but precise. He stood up, stretching his arms and letting his fingers twitch slightly in his new gloves.
The red-and-blue suit he wore had changed—sleeker, more angular. Nanoweave panels were stitched into the arms and legs, and the spider emblem across his chest pulsed with a faint, steady glow. The core had been redesigned by his own hand, aided by a few desperate nights in Stark's old workshop. Micro-actuators in the gauntlets shimmered faintly, twitching as they calibrated in real-time to his muscle memory. A slight change in posture, a new wire-tether system in the legs—barely visible but crucial. He looked like Spider-Man, yes. But also something more.
"Okay," Peter muttered under his breath, pulling up a translucent HUD inside his mask. "Magneto-proof webbing: check. EMP burst resistors: holding. Ultron firewall patch: hasn't screamed yet. Cloaking module still bugs out near pigeons but hey, nobody's perfect."
He sighed, rolled his shoulders, and sat down on the rooftop's edge, dangling his legs over the side. His stomach growled audibly.
"No supervillains. No threats. No multiverse imploding. Maybe—just maybe—I can actually sit here and eat a damn sandwi—"
A shadow fell over him.
Not the soft shade cast by clouds. Not a drone. Not even a bird.
It was heavier. Like the air had changed density.
Peter turned.
His stomach sank.
Standing on the rooftop ledge behind him, one foot perched effortlessly on the narrow beam of steel, was Gerald Weston.
Black coat fluttering in the crosswind. One hand in his pocket. The other holding an unopened energy drink. The kind only lunatics drank warm.
"New upgrades," Gerald said, voice calm as falling ash. "Not bad."
Spider-Man stared.
"…Oh no," Peter whispered.
Gerald's smile was faint. Casual. But entirely unreadable.
"Oh yes."