The television glowed in the dim apartment, and Director Stane's sorrowful voice poured out like a funeral hymn. His eyes looked wet. His tone trembled. His face carried the kind of pain that made strangers believe him instantly.
Obadiah Stane was acting as if he might announce Tony Stark's death on live TV any second.
And honestly?
His performance was almost flawless—so good that even James, watching from the sofa, had to admit it.
This old man is a real monster.
No one connected Tony's disappearance to Obadiah. Why would they?
Obadiah wasn't some random executive—he was Tony's elder, his mentor, his long-time supporter. Tony's rise in the company hadn't been smooth because Tony was polite. It had been smooth because Obadiah stood behind him when it mattered.
To the public, the two looked like family.
So now, with Tony missing, the company facing panic, and a power vacuum forming in the boardroom…
Obadiah naturally filled the empty seat.
And he did it without looking hungry.
Even better, to avoid suspicion, Obadiah didn't rush to erase Tony's traces inside the company. Tony's assistant, Pepper, still held her position. The staff around Tony weren't purged overnight. Everything looked stable on the surface.
In Obadiah's mind, Tony was already dead.
So why rush and create chaos?
If he moved carefully, slowly, like a patient predator, the company would eventually become his without anyone noticing when the handover truly happened.
James turned off the television.
Then he stood up, grabbed his keys, and left the apartment.
---
The Factory
The company car took him out of Manhattan to a factory on the outskirts of New York City—one of the new sites being prepared for the smart weapon production line.
The build-out was going extremely smoothly.
And it wasn't because the company suddenly became fast and efficient.
It was because Obadiah was pushing it.
Hard.
As the project founder, and now with Obadiah openly backing him, James had almost unlimited room to implement his ideas. Every request went through. Every budget was approved.
Obadiah valued this project more than James did.
To Obadiah, smart weapons were proof.
Proof that Stark Industries could thrive without Tony.
Proof that he—Obadiah—was a worthy successor.
James was happy to let him believe that.
Because Obadiah understood business, not deep technology. His strengths were management and finance. He couldn't see what was hidden inside James's factory layout.
And James wasn't building this place just to manufacture smart pistols.
If it was only for that, it would be a waste of his effort.
When Obadiah arrived, his face showed no trace of the grief he had displayed on television earlier. Instead, his eyes shone with satisfaction, as if he had rediscovered youth.
Power really was the best medicine.
"I was right about you," Obadiah said warmly. "You're even more outstanding than I imagined."
James smiled politely. "That's also because of your support, Chairman."
The word landed perfectly.
Obadiah's grin widened like he had just been handed the keys to the world.
Young people were not ignorant at all. This one was smart.
And respectful.
Obadiah's tone became even more generous. "I've arranged a meeting with a military representative. Complete the production line as soon as possible. I want a new order to restore market confidence."
"No problem," James replied. "It will be finished this month."
James wondered what Obadiah's face would look like when Tony returned.
That would be priceless.
Unfortunately, the current F.R.I.D.A.Y prototypes only had recording functions.
James would have to upgrade the system later and add imaging.
Obadiah loved the smart pistol James had "gifted" him. He carried it almost everywhere like a symbol of power.
But Obadiah didn't understand the core truth of smart weapons:
The gun is only the shell.
The intelligence is the real weapon.
The AI inside was James's creation, and it had never left his control—ever.
When Obadiah was alone, he often talked to himself in victory. He laughed about the plan. He mocked Tony. He praised his own brilliance.
And F.R.I.D.A.Y recorded everything.
James had designed it that way.
Obadiah only had firing rights. F.R.I.D.A.Y didn't speak to him, didn't "bond," didn't develop trust. Obadiah believed he was holding a pistol.
In reality, he was holding a spy.
James had built three prototypes, all based on the same core code.
Yes, they were still "artificial idiots," but they contained something priceless:
self-learning and evolution capacity.
James couldn't build a conscious AI like J.A.R.V.I.S. the way Tony could.
So he chose another path.
Quantity.
Like Delamain.
He could create multiple sub-entities, let them learn, fuse, evolve—until something awakened.
Every smart pistol was a node.
Every future smart device would also be a node.
A growing network of intelligence, quietly collecting experience and refining itself.
Obadiah didn't stay long. Company matters were pulling him away, and he left the factory after checking progress.
As soon as he was gone, Martin leaned closer to James and whispered:
"Boss… doesn't Director Stane seem… not that sad?"
James gave him a flat look.
"Would you be sad if it were you?"
Martin froze, then nodded slowly. "Understood."
If gaining the company was the prize, most people would smile through the funeral.
James didn't waste time.
"How's the server setup?" he asked quietly. "When can F.R.I.D.A.Y move?"
Martin patted his chest. "Tonight. Before end of work. Everything will be debugged."
That mattered.
Computing power was blood for AI.
Tony had leveled an island just to build server infrastructure for J.A.R.V.I.S.
James didn't have that luxury. He could only build within limits, squeeze value from every watt, and design servers with future expansion in mind.
But there was a bigger headache.
Obadiah could currently fund the electricity bill.
Who would fund it later?
Just one month of power costs could burn money like a furnace.
James sighed internally.
In the end, Tony still had to become his sponsor again.
Tony had the tech. The connections. The money.
He was just… too smart.
Too hard to fool.
But Tony had weaknesses.
He acted careless, wild, irresponsible… yet he was emotional at the core.
James already knew that could be used.
He just hadn't decided how yet.
For now, the priority was moving F.R.I.D.A.Y.
Because Tony, at this very moment, was probably still trapped in a cave—holding a battery, swinging a hammer, and building his future with blood and stubbornness.
---
F.R.I.D.A.Y Awakens in a New Home
Evening arrived.
James, Martin, and the team finished the relocation.
A huge monitor lit up. Expensive speakers hummed softly. The server racks glowed with clean power.
On-screen text flowed:
"Data transferring…"
"Transfer successful…"
"System restarting…"
"Restart complete…"
Then F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice came through clearly—far clearer than before.
> "Restart complete. How may I assist you?"
James didn't save Obadiah a single dollar.
He bought the most expensive sound system and the best display—so F.R.I.D.A.Y's avatar looked smoother, sharper, more alive.
"Self-diagnose."
> "Okay."
> "Bang bang beep dong…"
James's eyes narrowed. "Turn off the music."
> "Okay."
A pause.
> "Detection complete. System program has no issues. I feel great now."
James snorted. "With equipment worth hundreds of millions, you'd better feel great."
F.R.I.D.A.Y's avatar leaned forward dramatically.
> "According to my data, I should now express gratitude, Master. Please allow me to sing a song—"
"No."
James shut it down instantly.
> "Okay."
The avatar's face fell.
It wasn't real emotion. Only simulation.
But James could see the improvement.
With stronger computing power, F.R.I.D.A.Y's expressions, voice quality, and responsiveness were already evolving.
It was a good start.
After running more tests and confirming stability, James put F.R.I.D.A.Y into dormant standby.
Martin sidled over again, eyebrows raised.
"Boss… plans for tonight?"
James shook his head. "I have something to do. You guys go enjoy."
The younger staff cheered and left anyway. Their energy didn't need permission.
---
Pepper's Door
Pepper returned home exhausted.
Tony's disappearance had hit her like a truck. She hadn't admitted it, but she had loved that arrogant, charming, reckless man for a long time.
Now the company felt empty.
Even with Obadiah leaving her position intact, she understood the truth:
Without Tony, her power was mostly symbolic.
Still, she refused to give up hope.
Because as long as Tony was "missing," he was not "dead."
Just as Pepper collapsed onto her bed, the doorbell rang.
She frowned, stood up, and checked the peephole.
Her breath caught.
It was James.
She hesitated—then opened the door.
"Nuo—" she started automatically, then corrected herself mentally. "James… why are you here?"
James held up a pizza box like this was the most normal visit in the world.
"Miss Pepper, want some pizza? Just bought it downstairs. Still hot."
Pepper blinked.
"…No, thank you."
James tilted his head. "May I come in first?"
Pepper stepped aside. "Please."
James sat down calmly and began eating pizza like he hadn't eaten all day.
Pepper stared at him, helpless.
She didn't have the energy for games.
So she asked directly.
"Is there something you need?"
James swallowed and looked up.
"Tony's disappearance was not an accident."
Pepper's brow tightened immediately. "What do you mean?"
She had suspected it too—but Tony vanished in the chaos of the Middle East. Even the U.S. military couldn't investigate properly right now.
James didn't answer with words.
He opened her laptop, connected his phone, and played an audio file.
Obadiah's voice filled the room.
Confident. Proud. Cruel.
Explaining everything.
Pepper covered her mouth. Her eyes trembled.
It felt like the floor had tilted under her.
"This…" her voice cracked. "Is Tony still alive?"
"Probably," James said.
Pepper released a shaking breath like she had been holding it for days.
Then James pulled out a device and placed it in her hands.
"My smart pistols have tracking modules. This is a signal capture device. Ten-kilometer range. If we're lucky…"
He didn't finish.
Pepper held it like it was a lifeline.
She whispered, "Thank you."
James smiled gently. "You're welcome. Tony's my idol."
Then he leaned back slightly.
"The rest is on you. Obadiah is watching me closely. I had to work to shake his eyes."
Pepper's gaze hardened.
"I know who to contact."
James nodded.
If Tony trusted anyone besides Pepper, it was James Rhodes.
They had been inseparable since college. And Rhodes was already in the Middle East.
Pepper stood, determination returning to her posture.
James wiped his hands with a tissue and stood.
"Then I'll go."
Pepper walked him to the door.
And in her mind, something shifted.
From now on, James wasn't just a talented employee.
He was someone on her side.
---
Meanwhile, In a Cave
Tony Stark's life in the cave was hell.
Luxury had been stripped away, leaving only dirt, hunger, and pain.
Yet instead of breaking Tony, it forged him.
His will didn't weaken.
It sharpened.
Like the arc reactor he was building—soon to shine bright enough to rewrite his life.
Tony stared into the thin gruel in his bowl and stirred it with a spoon.
"Even if you made me eat this a hundred more times," Tony muttered, "I'd still say it, Yinsen… your cooking is awful."
Yinsen frowned. "It's not my fault. It's the ingredients."
Tony didn't push further.
Because if he complained too much, he might lose the courage to eat at all.
In the end, Tony ate everything.
Almost licking the bowl clean.
Because forging metal drained energy, and hunger was a monster he couldn't afford to fight.
And deep inside, Tony realized something he never expected:
He had more endurance than he ever gave himself credit for.
And when he finally walked out of this cave… the world would not recognize him anymore.
--
-------------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon
patreon.com/Samurai492
__________________________________