Tony Stark, beaming with the unshakeable pride of a creator on the verge of unveiling his magnum opus, gestured toward the main console. "Ultron," he announced, his voice echoing slightly in the tense silence of the room, "is the future of mankind!"
Before he could elaborate, Steve Rogers frowned, his brow furrowed with a deep, immediate unease. He took a decisive step forward, his large hand clamping down on Tony's arm, a silent plea for him to stop. Steve had a terrible feeling about this, a cold dread that coiled in his gut. Tony's brilliance was a fire that could forge wonders or burn the world down, and right now, he looked like a man standing on a precipice, staring into a dangerous obsession.
"Tony, I don't think this is a good idea," Steve said, his voice low but firm, cutting through Tony's triumphant air.
He could feel the familiar, bitter taste of history repeating itself. "Using an AI to monitor the entire world, feeding it the underlying code from Project Insight… this will have terrifying consequences. How can you possibly guarantee that a machine won't make a mistake?"
Tony's smile tightened into a sneer. He found the question almost laughable. "You think there will be a problem with my invention?" he shot back, his voice dripping with indignation. Nothing chafed him more than having his intelligence questioned, and Steve had just stomped all over that raw nerve.
With a shrug, Tony pulled his arm free. "Frankly, I think machines are far more reliable than people," he declared, his gaze sweeping over the room before landing squarely on Steve. "They can execute their programming indefinitely without deviation. People, on the other hand…" He let the sentence hang in the air. "People change. People follow their own self-interest. Just look at S.H.I.E.L.D. Can any of us guarantee that H.A.M.M.E.R. won't rot from the inside out in a few years?"
His words were a direct, almost brutal insult to Norman Osborn, the director standing just a few feet away. Yet, Norman's expression remained a placid mask. As a cutthroat businessman, he understood the darker facets of human nature better than anyone. He had seen friends turn into would-be murderers for the sake of corporate control. From that cold, pragmatic perspective, a machine was indeed more dependable. The problem wasn't the logic; it was the method. No one wanted to live their lives under the unblinking eye of a digital warden.
"You're talking about using algorithms to control people you deem a threat, Tony," Steve pressed, his voice filled with a heartbroken disappointment. "What's the difference between that and what Hydra tried to do?"
The S.H.I.E.L.D. catastrophe had left deep scars, and Steve had become hyper-vigilant to its echoes. It wasn't just him; the atmosphere in the room grew heavy. Questioning gazes fell on Tony from all sides, making him feel increasingly isolated. Natasha bit her lower lip, her eyes darting away as she rubbed her temples. Bruce looked pale, the specter of his own uncontrollable power reflected in Tony's unchecked ambition.
Tony felt a surge of frustrated anger. He had expected—hoped—that someone here would understand. He was offering them true, lasting peace, a way to protect the world completely. Why couldn't they see it?
But he wouldn't back down. Not now.
"You want to know the difference?" he scoffed, jabbing a finger toward the gleaming hall of Iron Man armors behind a glass wall. "Hydra wanted to eliminate targets that threatened them. I want to eliminate targets that threaten the Earth!"
He framed it as a matter of intent. A gun could be used for murder or for protection. In his mind, his logic was flawless. If the rest of them couldn't get the job done, he would. What was so wrong with that?
But his rationale failed to convince them. A tense silence fell over the room. After a moment, every eye in the room turned to the two people who hadn't spoken: Norman Osborn… and Ben Parker.
Ultimately, the decision rested with Norman as the Director of H.A.M.M.E.R. A project with the global security implications of Ultron couldn't move forward without his approval. And even then, it would likely require the consent of the World Security Council—a body Tony held in utter contempt. If they said no, he'd probably do it anyway.
Norman felt a headache building. From a purely scientific standpoint, he understood Tony's faith in an incorruptible machine. Human fallibility was a known variable; a perfect program was a constant. Unable to commit, he did what he had learned was always the wisest course of action. He looked to the calm teenager standing beside him.
"Ben, what do you think?"
It had become an unspoken rule, an objective law of his new universe: when in doubt, ask Ben Parker. The boy's vision was simply on another level.
As Norman spoke, the focus of the room shifted entirely onto Ben. He was the unspoken backbone of their group, the one whose intellect even Tony grudgingly respected. If he sided with Tony, the others might just be swayed.
Internally, Ben was all for it. Without Ultron, how would he get to watch the inevitable fireworks? How could he acquire the perfect vibranium body for E.U.N.I.C.E.? But he couldn't say that. Supporting Tony now meant sharing the blame later. He had no intention of taking the fall for Tony's hubris.
So, he chose his words carefully, weaving a path of strategic ambiguity.
"In the Plumber archives," he began, his tone measured and academic, "it's recorded that the Kree, one of the three most powerful civilizations in the galaxy, adopted a similar governance model."
Tony's eyes lit up instantly. A precedent! And a powerful one at that. "See?" he crowed, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. This was the validation he craved. "A major galactic power thinks just like me. This proves my path is the right one. Ultron is the future of humanity!" He looked eager. "Tell me more."
Ben continued, his voice steady. "The Kree Empire has a ruler in name, but in practice, their entire civilization is guided by an artificial intelligence they created called the Supreme Intelligence. It's the repository of their collective knowledge—science, philosophy, military strategy, everything. It has guided their civilization for millennia."
"Did you hear that?" Tony was practically bouncing, pointing a finger at Steve with unrestrained glee. "They went even further than me! They handed their entire planet over to an AI! I told you Ultron was the future, and now Ben agrees with—"
Ben held up a hand, cutting off Tony's impassioned speech. "I didn't say I support you," he clarified coolly. "I said a similar model exists. The question is whether your Ultron has the wisdom and stability of the Supreme Intelligence, capable of guiding a civilization for tens of thousands of years." He paused, letting the weight of the question sink in. "Who's to say if Ultron will bring a new golden age… or an Omnic Crisis?"
The jab was sharp and personal. If Steve's doubts were those of an old-fashioned soldier, Ben's were those of a peer. In the realm of super-genius AI creation, Ben was the only person whose opinion Tony truly valued. To be questioned by him was an intolerable challenge to his pride.
It was the final push Tony needed. If you doubt me, it means you think I can't do it. But I already have. I win.
"You're questioning me?" Tony's voice was dangerously low. He straightened up, his playful arrogance evaporating into pure, focused intensity. "Fine. Since you have your doubts, I'll let you see my Ultron for yourself."
He strode toward the back wall. With a hiss of hydraulics, the display case of armors slid away, revealing a pristine, silver-white laboratory.
"Jarvis," Tony commanded, his voice sharp. "Start Ultron. Now."
"Yes, sir," Jarvis replied, his tone as placid as ever.
"Tony, wait!" Steve started forward, realizing what was about to happen, but it was too late. Tony wasn't asking for permission. This was a notification.
The Ultron program activated. Before them, a sphere of pure light materialized, a digital consciousness pulsing like a thought made visible. A new, synthesized voice filled the lab, calm and inquisitive.
"Tony Stark… my creator."
Tony's mustache twitched with a triumphant smile. "Go on," he urged, stepping aside. "Introduce yourself."
"Greetings, everyone. I am Ultron," the being announced, its voice projected from the lab's speakers. "The Global Defense System Ultron. A program designed by Mr. Tony Stark to maintain peace and stability on Earth."
It was interacting with them as if it were a person, its tone clinical and polite, much like Jarvis's. For a moment, it seemed benign.
"What is your purpose?" Ben asked, cutting straight to the point.
"Based on the core programming given to me by my creator," Ultron replied, "I will identify and eliminate all factors that threaten peace, thereby creating a peaceful world."
Tony nodded, deeply satisfied. But for the true demonstration, he needed to give it access to everything.
"Jarvis, connect Ultron to the global network."
The link was established. Instantly, the glowing thought-sphere began to fluctuate violently, convulsing as if in agony. It was like a placid pond hit by a tidal wave of data. The pristine AI, a blank slate just moments before, was being flooded with the unfiltered chaos of the human world. Wars, famine, crime, hatred—centuries of digital filth poured into its nascent mind.
Ben leaned forward slightly, a glint in his eye. He was waiting for the show to begin.
Five minutes passed. Then, as suddenly as it began, the violent turmoil ceased. The sphere of light returned to a gentle, placid pulse.
"Ultron?" Tony asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
"I am here, Mr. Stark," it replied, its voice still unnervingly calm.
Ben's eyes narrowed. This wasn't right. Where was the apocalyptic conclusion? Where was the chilling declaration that humanity was the true threat? The AI had seen the absolute worst of mankind and… hadn't changed at all? Something was very, very wrong.
Tony, oblivious to the undercurrent of danger, pumped his fist in a small, secretive gesture of victory. He asked it for a status report.
In an instant, hundreds of light screens flickered to life around them, displaying a dizzying array of data streams, surveillance feeds, and predictive algorithms. The world, in all its chaotic, information-dense glory, was transparent to the AI.
"Sir," Ultron's voice echoed calmly through the lab, "there are currently 1,645 violent crimes in progress in New York City. A further 538 are projected to occur within the next hour. There are tens of thousands of individuals flagged as potential criminal threats."
Its voice was serene, but Ben could sense a deep, cold logic churning beneath the surface.
"Do we need to mobilize the Iron Legion?"