Chapter 7: The Interloper
The quiet hum of the warehouse workshop was a stark contrast to the storm of calculations and strategies raging in John Vance's mind. He sat before his main terminal, the holographic screen displaying an intricate, color-coded map of the Stark Industries' digital network. The quest was clear: Help Tony Stark survive the coming betrayal. John knew that meant he had to warn Tony about Obadiah Stane. But how? He couldn't just knock on his door. S.H.I.E.L.D. was likely still trying to trace him. He needed a backchannel, a way to talk to Tony, genius to genius, without alerting the world—or Fury.
His high INT and WIS worked in perfect tandem. He reasoned that a simple email could be traced. An encrypted message through a public server could be cracked. The only way was a direct, impossible-to-trace intrusion, a ghost in the machine that left no footprints. He wouldn't be hacking a system; he would be briefly becoming a part of it, a fleeting thought within its core programming.
With his [Advanced Cybernetic Infiltration] skill, he began to work. The digital world of Stark Industries appeared before his mind's eye not as lines of code, but as a sprawling, complex fortress. He saw the main firewall as a towering, crystalline wall of light, and the security protocols as a maze of interlocking corridors. At the heart of it all was J.A.R.V.I.S., a nascent, ever-learning sentinel, its awareness rippling through every network cable. John didn't want to engage this entity directly; he wanted to dance around it.
He spent hours meticulously crafting a digital path, creating a series of encrypted proxies that bounced his signal across a dozen different servers, each one erasing his tracks. He wasn't just hacking; he was weaving a temporary, untraceable digital tapestry. He used his [Mana Pool] and [Basic Runic Enchanting] skills, pouring a small amount of energy into the code. This infused the data stream with a layer of arcane encryption that no technological system, not even J.A.R.V.I.S., could decipher or log. It was a fusion of the digital and the magical, a signature that should not exist.
Once the secure line was established, he crafted his message. It had to be concise, compelling, and specific enough to make Tony believe him, but vague enough to not expose his knowledge of the future. He knew Tony was a man of action, a man who believed in facts and data. He had to appeal to that part of him, bypassing his ego. The message wasn't a warning from a fan; it was a peer-to-peer communication, a revelation from one visionary to another.
With a final mental command, the message was sent. The digital thread unraveled itself instantly, leaving no trace behind. John leaned back, exhaling. The ball was now in Tony's court.
Tony Stark's workshop was a cathedral of light and sound, but it was also a gilded cage. For two weeks, he had been home, but not at peace. The Arc Reactor in his chest was a constant, pulsing reminder of the cave, of the man he was and the man he didn't want to be. The media called him a hero, a survivor, but all he felt was an overwhelming, restless need to prove to himself that he was more than a merchant of death. He was working on the Mark II, not out of passion, but out of a desperate need for a project to quiet the demons in his mind.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., on screen, all available public data on 'The Sentinel.' A.S.A.P." Tony's voice was a low growl, a mix of restless curiosity and professional jealousy.
"Right away, sir," J.A.V.I.S. replied. "Compiling and cross-referencing all footage and energy scans from the last month. The subject is proving to be… an enigma."
Holographic screens flickered to life around Tony, displaying every piece of available information on The Sentinel. Tony paused his work and stared, his genius mind already in overdrive. He had spent every waking moment trying to figure out this new variable, this impossible person.
"Look at that," Tony said, gesturing to a close-up still of the Mark 0's Arc Reactor. "The signature is completely silent. No energy bleed, no radiation. It's not running on palladium. The energy source is too pure. He's either figured out cold fusion on a miniature scale, or it's something else entirely. J.A.R.V.I.S., have you been able to decipher the energy signature?"
"Negative, sir. The energy pulses appear to be running on an unknown, non-technological principle. The data is… inconsistent. It's as if the laws of physics are being rewritten in real-time."
Tony grunted in frustration. "And the armor. Look at the plating. It's a nanoweave. I'm just starting to prototype that. And the flight control… it's flawless. No gyroscopic drift, no drag." He looked at a video of The Sentinel deflecting a rocket with an unseen force field. "And that's not even a repulsor blast. It's… magic. This guy is a wizard in a suit."
A flicker of a smile crossed Tony's face. He had returned to find he wasn't alone. Another visionary, another force of nature, was out there. The idea both thrilled and frustrated him. This wasn't a rivalry with a company; it was with a mind that might be his equal.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., continue your analysis. I want you to run every possible simulation of that armor's capabilities. I won't be outdone by some guy in a knock-off suit."
"Sir, an alert." J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice was a flat, non-emotional tone, but a rare hint of confusion laced its words. "A message has just been delivered. It bypassed all network firewalls and anti-intrusion systems. The source is completely untraceable. I… I don't know how it got in."
Tony froze. A direct, untraceable message? His heart hammered in his chest. A hundred different possibilities, all of them terrifying, flashed through his brain. He quickly walked to his main terminal, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. The screen was dark, save for a single, glowing line of text that seemed to materialize out of thin air. The runic symbols he had seen in the blurry videos of the Sentinel's battles shimmered for a moment, then dissolved into a line of plain English.
He read the words. His bravado and cocky demeanor melted away, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated shock. The message wasn't a threat. It was a warning from a man who knew more than he should.
"We need to talk. Your 'friend' is a traitor. The betrayal is imminent. Trust me. - The Sentinel"
Tony stared at the words, his mind racing. Who could know this? He had just come back. Only a handful of people knew what was going on. His eyes flickered to the contact name at the bottom of the screen.
The Sentinel. The man who had just out-engineered him, a man he couldn't explain. Tony felt a cold chill run down his spine. The message wasn't a threat; it was a revelation. It was the moment his carefully constructed world began to unravel.
He looked around his workshop, at the half-finished Mark II armor, the pulsing Arc Reactor in his chest, and the ghost of a message on his screen. A sudden, deep-seated fear took root. He wasn't just building a suit for himself anymore. He was building one for an imminent war, and he had a partner he didn't even know. He picked up his phone, his hand trembling slightly, and with a voice that had lost all its arrogance, he called the one person he knew he could trust.
"Pepper, something's wrong," he said into the phone. "Stane… you need to check his books."