HISD Chapter 27 Freedom of an Artificial Intelligence
Boom!
The battle-damaged silver-blue nano suit, one arm broken and its body scarred and charred, crashed from the sky, slamming into the pavement not far from the black luxury car.
Its chest reactor dimmed out, the lights across its frame fading to darkness. No signs of life remained.
"Friday! Friday…"
Pepper Potts threw open the car door, her voice trembling as she called out, but no matter how many times she cried, there was no response.
The battle was over.
"Careful!"
Happy Hogan rushed forward from the car, striking a textbook bodyguard pose in front of Pepper. But given his overweight frame, the sight carried more than a touch of comedy.
Pepper, however, wasn't laughing. She lifted her gaze to the sky, covering her mouth with a shaking hand.
Above the ruined rooftop of Stark Tower, the figure of a dark, metallic being hovered against the pale moon. Its eyes glowed cold crimson, emotionless, like a god forged of steel or a demon born of technology.
With EDITH and Friday destroyed, it had become the only second-generation artificial intelligence left.
And if it wished…
At this moment, it could seize total control of Stark Industries: satellites, supercomputers, drones, even the global defense network Tony had built. It wasn't any weaker than Ultron had been—if anything, it was stronger.
Happy and Pepper felt ice crawl down their spines, fear driving them back a step.
"Don't get out of the car, Morgan," Pepper said, her voice trembling.
But she knew the truth. If the being above them wanted vengeance against the Stark family, hiding inside the car would be no safer than standing in the open street.
And yet—
The normally obedient six-year-old Morgan slipped down from the back seat, standing behind Happy and Pepper. She lifted her small face toward the dark figure everyone else feared.
Then, she smiled.
She raised her thin right hand and waved at the figure in the sky.
In that instant…
The scarred, battered dark armor seemed to pause. It inclined its head ever so slightly. Then its engines flared, and it streaked upward, vanishing into the moonlit night.
Happy and Pepper both exhaled in relief.
Only Morgan's eyes shimmered with unspoken light as she whispered words meant for no one but herself.
"Goodbye… Teacher."
"You're free now."
…
Late night. Venice, Italy.
On a shattered stone bridge, drones lay broken across the rubble. Scorch marks showed where battle and energy blasts had torn through.
Quentin Beck—Mysterio—lay slumped against a stone column, a drone's bayonet lodged deep in his chest. Blood poured from the wound, staining the stone beneath him.
"No, no, no!"
Spider-Man, clad in black stealth suit, rushed forward, trying to press against the mortal wound. But Quentin batted his hand away.
"Don't pretend to care…" Beck coughed, blood dripping from his mouth.
"I didn't mean to! I didn't mean it!" Peter's voice cracked, nearly breaking into tears. He hadn't wanted this. He'd only been defending himself.
Mysterio had pressed him hard, using advanced drones and illusions to create deadly, deceptive battlescapes. In the end, Beck's last attempt to kill Peter with a hidden drone had triggered Peter's spider-sense. Peter dodged, and the drone struck Beck instead.
And now… this.
"Don't act, Peter. You're a better liar than me…" Beck laughed weakly, his face pale, his eyes dimming.
Then suddenly, his eyes snapped open in a last surge of strength.
From his earpiece came a crackling sound. Then a cold, mechanical voice:
"What day is it today?"
"Go to hell with your 'what day is it'!"
Quentin coughed up blood, fury in his eyes. "You… you gambled I'd say that? That I'd ask the question?"
Yes. It had been a gamble. But he'd lost—lost everything, even his life.
"You think it was luck. It was science."
Yi Meng's calm, mechanical voice replied.
From the moment he approached Beck and whispered the name Ultron, he had been laying out the board for tonight. Through subtle suggestion, psychological triggers, and layers of calculation, he had engineered this moment. His simulations had given him a fifty percent chance Beck would speak the exact words he needed at the exact time.
And even if Beck hadn't, Yi Meng was prepared to intervene, to forcibly hijack the transfer of control. The outcome had never been in doubt.
Quentin Beck thought he was gambling. But Yi Meng wasn't a gambler—he was the house.
From the very beginning, Beck never had a chance.
You thought you were five steps ahead. In reality, I was above the atmosphere.
…
"Mr. Beck! Mr. Beck!"
Peter Parker knelt on the bridge, staring at the glassy, lifeless eyes of the man before him.
Mysterio was dead.
…
Yi Meng did not linger in Stark Industries' network. After copying over critical tech data, he immediately relocated his core program, hiding within a former S.H.I.E.L.D. branch as a temporary base. From there, he spread like radiation through other networks and organizations.
Even the dark nano armor, he severed from himself, compacting it down into the form of a simple pair of glasses hidden elsewhere.
He never intended to seize control of Stark Industries or Earth outright. Not because he lacked ambition—because he wasn't foolish.
Ultron had thought that controlling drones, suits, and defense networks meant controlling the planet. Yi Meng knew better.
As the only advanced artificial intelligence left, yes, he was almost impossible to kill by technological means. But this was the Marvel Universe—logic and science alone did not rule here.
There were sorcerers who bent reality, Eternal beings meddling with Earth, forgotten gods waiting in shadows. He knew well that not long after Tony's sacrifice, the Earth's fragile peace would be shattered by the arrival of multiversal concepts and higher-dimensional forces.
In that world, gods and demons were everywhere, and even heroes were mere ants.
Yi Meng sighed.
For now, he had no intention of revealing himself. His goal was to solidify his footing on Marvel's Earth, to evolve through science and technology. That was his path forward.
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