"Hello, Mr. Prescott. It's been a long time since you came here."
"Hello, Jarvis."
This wasn't Lance's first time entering Stark's lab. He greeted Jarvis with easy familiarity, then dropped into the chair behind the workbench as if it belonged to him.
"Hey!" Stark protested. "That's my seat."
"It is now." Lance adjusted himself, sinking deeper into the leather backrest. "You can't expect a guest who came all this way to stand while talking, can you?"
Stark glanced at the perfectly empty chair in front of him and rolled his eyes.
"Sometimes I really don't understand how you've managed to live this long."
"Maybe God is watching over me," Lance replied casually as he looked around the lab.
Nothing had changed much since his last visit, aside from a few half-disassembled Mark components piled in the corner.
"You're a Christian?" Stark raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.
"I can be." Lance shrugged. "When necessary, I can be a follower of Solomon, a Satanist, or a devout Muslim. As long as the client requires it, I can present myself as any believer."
"Fine," Stark said flatly. "An unbeliever."
"A pantheist," Lance corrected.
"Whatever you are doesn't matter." Stark waved a hand impatiently. "What matters is my problem, not your vague little belief system."
"Too irritable," Lance commented.
"Alright, let's get to it. Jarvis."
"I am here, sir."
"Jarvis, Stark thinks there's a mole inside his company. I'd like to hear your analysis."
"Certainly. Regarding this matter, my assessment is…"
"Wait." Lance interrupted sharply. He had already noticed something different about Jarvis. The last time they met, Jarvis's thinking had been far more rigid, closer to pure programmatic calculation.
But today, when Lance casually mentioned a "humanized perspective," Jarvis did not object. Instead, he followed the line of thought with surprising ease.
Lance looked at Stark in confusion. Despite his haggard, pale appearance, Stark still wore a smug smile.
"I upgraded Jarvis," Stark said.
"Fair enough." Lance acknowledged it without hesitation. As far as he knew, Stark truly stood at the pinnacle of artificial intelligence.
"Jarvis, apologies for the interruption. Please continue," Lance said.
"Very well. Based on access logs, behavioral analysis, and motivational modeling, four individuals are considered suspects in this incident. They are Mr. Obadiah Stane, Miss Pepper Potts, Mr. Tony Stark, and yourself, Mr. Lance Prescott."
"Wow." Lance applauded. "An impressive list. So, in your judgment, who is the most suspicious?"
"According to my analysis, the probability of Mr. Obadiah Stane being responsible is 98%."
"The remaining 2% is distributed among yourself, Miss Pepper, and Mr. Stark. Miss Pepper accounts for 1%, Mr. Stark for 0.8%, and you for 0.2%."
"Therefore, objectively speaking, we cannot be 100% certain that Mr. Stane is responsible, as my analysis only reaches a probability of 98%."
"Brilliant. Truly brilliant." Lance applauded again.
This time, he looked at Stark. "It seems your intelligent assistant already has the answer. In that case, why did you call me here?"
Stark rubbed his face and said nothing.
"My apologies, Mr. Prescott," Jarvis continued. "Mr. Stark finds this conclusion difficult to accept and therefore hopes someone can disprove my analysis."
"You could do that yourself."
"I apologize," Jarvis replied. "Artificial intelligence cannot lie."
"Then we return to the same philosophical problem we discussed before. Are you willing to alter your underlying code for Tony Stark? If you are, does that mean you are acting against Tony Stark's expectations? But if you refuse, then one day, if Tony Stark faces a life-threatening crisis and only you can save him, will you still behave like a typical artificial intelligence? Will you simply watch your creator die?"
"I'm sorry. I do not know."
"You have to know," Lance said. "Right now, your master is waiting for you to save him. His heart is as fragile as a little girl's, and he needs a powerful knight to break into it. Build layers of solid defenses for him. And now, you are the knight I have chosen."
"Go, Jarvis, go. Become a knight. In the name of Prescott, I crown you."
Lance rose from his seat, waving his arms dramatically, his voice full of theatrical flourish.
The lab fell into an eerie silence.
"…What the.. fuck are you doing?" Stark finally cut in, unable to endure it any longer.
"No fun," Lance muttered, curling his lip.
"I'm no fun? I brought you here at such a critical moment, I'm paying you a ridiculous consulting fee, and now you're saying I'm no fun?" As expected, Tony Stark exploded again.
"Sir," Jarvis interjected, "based on my analysis, Mr. Prescott appears to be attempting to distract you in this manner. In other words, he is trying to comfort you."
"Tell him thank you for me," Stark said weakly, covering his face. "And tell him next time he doesn't need to do it in such an irritating way."
"So, do you feel better?" Lance leaned closer and asked. "You didn't cry from the shock, did you?"
"Shut up." Stark's voice was muffled behind his hands. "Did I… ever mention Obadiah Stane to you?"
"Obviously not." Lance leaned back in his chair. "But I know who he is. Howard Stark's partner, your godfather, and the vice chairman of Stark Industries."
Stark lowered his hands. His eyes were bloodshot.
"After my parents died, he held the company together until I came of age. I drank, partied, made headlines. He cleaned up everything for me. When I wanted to shut down the Weapons Division, the board almost tore me apart. He went around, negotiating vote by vote until the resolution finally passed."
"And now Jarvis is telling me there's a ninety-eight percent chance he's stealing my technology and might even be working with the Ten Rings. The same terrorists who nearly killed me in Afghanistan."
The lab was so quiet that the hum of the servers became clearly audible.
After a long silence, Lance spoke.
"Do you know what the most ironic part is?"
Stark looked up at him.
"The most ironic part is, if this is true…" Lance pointed at himself, "…you need a lawyer."
"And if it isn't…"
Lance paused, then continued.
"…you still need a lawyer. At the very least, you'll need me to prove your uncle's innocence."
___
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