"Jarvis," Tony Stark asked lazily, swirling the liquid in his glass, "how long has it been?"
He stood at the bar inside the private area on the top floor of Stark Tower, city lights glittering through the massive windows behind him. The hum of advanced machinery blended with soft background music, creating an atmosphere that perfectly matched his mood—relaxed, indulgent, and curious.
"Three hours and fourteen minutes, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied calmly. "Sir, your blood alcohol concentration has reached 0.08%. I must advise moderation—"
"Drinking makes me happy, Jarvis," Tony interrupted, waving his hand dismissively.
The artificial intelligence paused.
"Understood, sir."
The lighting on the top floor subtly shifted, transitioning into a soft blue hue that eased the eyes and calmed the nerves. Tony smiled faintly in approval.
Since Peter Parker had provided that semi-finished yet clearly structured artificial intelligence model, Tony had used it as a blueprint to completely upgrade Jarvis. The result was an assistant that not only handled work flawlessly but also understood Tony's habits better than anyone else.
Pepper handled life.
Jarvis handled logic.
Tony handled… everything else.
He refilled his glass and glanced toward the elevator again, his anticipation barely concealed.
Peter Parker had taken over one of the top-floor offices to build a security system for S.H.I.E.L.D.. Strictly speaking, Tony could have done the job himself.
But he hadn't.
He wanted to see just how far Peter Parker could go.
This wasn't curiosity—it was a test between geniuses.
The elevator display finally lit up.
Floor numbers climbed rapidly.
Tony straightened slightly.
The doors slid open.
"Done."
Peter Parker walked out casually, tossing the one-time authorization token toward Tony. Tony didn't even look as he flicked it backward into a trash bin.
Perfect shot.
"Congratulations, Mr. Parker," Tony said, setting his glass aside as he moved toward his workstation. "You don't mind if I try to hack the system you just built, do you?"
He was already typing before finishing the sentence.
Peter lifted a hand slightly.
"Be my guest."
His tone was calm. Confident.
Not arrogance—certainty.
This confidence wasn't just about technology. It was deliberate character-building.
Peter Parker was no longer just a student. He was the chairman of Parker Industries—and in the future, Parker Group. Someone like that couldn't constantly hide his abilities without drawing suspicion.
Displaying genius in the right measure made everything make sense.
After all, Peter Parker had always been brilliant.
The web-shooters.
The web fluid.
Even Batman's own grappling systems had been refined using Peter's ideas.
Tony cracked his knuckles.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's dance."
He attacked the system aggressively.
Layer after layer.
False gateways.
Adaptive encryption.
Self-evolving countermeasures.
Ten minutes passed.
Tony's expression darkened.
He tried again.
And again.
Finally, he leaned back and raised both hands.
"I surrender."
He looked at Peter, disbelief written across his face.
"Your firewall," Tony said, shaking his head, "it's ridiculous. It's like those old gambling movies—where the master already knows every move his opponent will make before the cards even hit the table."
Tony exhaled sharply.
"I now fully believe that AI model was written by you."
Peter nodded slightly.
Tony was right.
Batman had mastered almost every hacking method known—and many unknown—in Gotham. A firewall written by someone like that wasn't meant to keep everyone out.
It was meant to let only one person in.
Batman.
The system didn't need a backdoor.
The entire S.H.I.E.L.D. network was now his garden.
And no one even realized it.
The whole task had taken less than three hours.
The rest of the time?
Batman had spent reading files—double-encrypted, triple-encrypted, buried deep within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s systems.
And then he went further.
He accessed satellites.
Quietly.
Carefully.
He found Norman Osborn.
Queens, New York.
Hiding among pedestrians.
A cloak covering the Green Goblin armor beneath.
Disheveled.
Pathetic-looking.
But Batman wasn't fooled.
The deaths of scientists in the third basement.
The Spencer family.
Dozens of homeless victims on the second basement level.
Norman Osborn was responsible.
Partially alone.
Partially aided by Thaddeus Ross.
Tony turned back to Peter, now treating him as a true equal.
"Jarvis ran market analysis this morning," Tony said. "There's a company called Parker Industries that's developed a new material."
Peter smiled.
"I bought a factory and renamed it."
Tony's eyebrows rose.
"Stark Industries is interested," he said. "We can collaborate. I'll even introduce you to some raw material suppliers."
This wasn't flattery.
It was respect.
Three things convinced Tony:
A genius AI framework.
An unbreakable security system.
A material with massive commercial demand.
Together, they spelled the rise of a new empire.
But Peter shook his head.
"Thanks," he said honestly, "but I've already secured suppliers."
He didn't want interference.
Parker Industries wasn't meant to dominate this world.
It was a tool.
A means to build something greater.
Something capable of taking him back to Gotham.
Tony didn't push.
True respect meant knowing when to stop.
---
Night fell over Queens.
Norman Osborn drifted through the crowd, his shoulders hunched, cloak drawn tight. He looked like a broken man.
But above him—
Far beyond the clouds—
S.H.I.E.L.D.'s satellites moved silently.
And so did Batman's eyes.
"This is Plan B," Batman thought.
No fists.
No public chaos.
No explosions.
That plan had been meant for Osborn Manor.
Interrupted by gliders, missiles, and bombs.
Now?
A cleaner end awaited the Green Goblin.
Because S.H.I.E.L.D.'s satellite… was already Batman's satellite.
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