The Golden Mind

"Grandpa Alfred, where's Bruce?"

Jason stepped out of his lab, wiping the back of his hand across his brow, and headed straight for the ever-composed butler of Wayne Manor.

As for his so-called father... well, who knew where that man had run off to this time?

In the first month after Jason arrived, Bruce had stuck around—attentive, patient, like a man trying to make up for lost time. But once he realized Jason could handle himself in the lab, his so-called chivalrous heart started itching again. Batman itched to get back to his nightly rounds.

These days, Jason might catch a glimpse of Bruce in the morning, maybe during lunch, but come evening? Gone. Like a phantom.

And Bruce still didn't know that Jason had already figured out his little secret.

The excuses were always laughable: charity galas, late-night board meetings, sudden business trips to Europe.

Jason had long wondered what kind of company was so insane that it held meetings at 2 a.m.

Thankfully, Alfred never left his side. Jason had grown genuinely close to the old butler. It wasn't just gratitude—Alfred actually listened.

"Master Jason," Alfred said, folding a towel over his forearm. "Master Bruce is... attending an impromptu meeting. Overseas."

Jason narrowed his eyes. "Overseas? Where?"

"South Korea. Something about an urgent WayneTech contract."

Jason raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of the night?"

Alfred gave a cough, subtle but telling. Jason smirked. The older the butler, the spicier the cover story.

"Grandpa Alfred, there's no danger in this 'meeting,' right?"

Last time Bruce went to one of his mysterious business trips, he came back with raccoon eyes darker than a panda's. And considering the man wore a mask, Jason still hadn't figured out how that was physically possible.

Bruce had claimed he "walked into a door."

Right. Jason wasn't six.

Alfred's usual stoic expression wavered. "Certainly not, Master Jason. I'm sure the meeting was... civil."

Before Jason could press further, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Bruce Wayne appeared, shoulders slightly slumped, one eye faintly bruised.

"Hey, Jason," Bruce said with forced cheer, walking up to them.

Jason and Alfred stared at him.

Bruce touched his face, feigning surprise. "Something wrong?"

Jason crossed his arms and stared him down. "Let me guess—you offended Miss Maria during the board meeting and she slapped you?"

Maria was Bruce's secretary. A lovely woman, poised, composed. The idea of her hitting Bruce was ridiculous, which was why Jason said it.

Bruce cleared his throat. "That's... not funny."

"Could've fooled me." Jason's tone was flat. "Anyway, I was looking for you."

"Oh?" Bruce seized the opportunity to change the subject. "Something wrong?"

"My A.I. is finished. I want you to see it."

Bruce blinked. "Already? That's fast."

Jason just stared back, impassive.

Bruce glanced at Alfred. "Let's go, then. See what kind of miracle Jason has pulled out of the void."

"Shall I call Mr. Fox, sir?" Alfred asked.

Lucius Fox—the tech genius behind the Batmobile, the suits, the weapons. If Jason had truly built something remarkable, it was worth having Fox take a look.

Bruce nodded. "Yeah, good idea. He's going to want to see this."

Jason gave no objection, simply waiting as Alfred made the call.

Despite the late hour, Fox arrived within ten minutes, bundled in a brown overcoat and scarf. His silver-gray hair and wise, tired eyes gave him the air of a professor pulled from bed.

"Mr. Wayne, Jason," he said, entering the lab. "I must say, dragging an old man out of bed past midnight is quite the declaration of importance."

Bruce gestured toward Jason. "Don't blame me. It's the kid's fault."

"Oh? And what has our young genius cooked up now?"

Fox approached with a smile, kneeling slightly to tousle Jason's hair.

Jason endured it with an internal sigh. Personal space was apparently suspended when you were a child.

"I've completed my artificial intelligence project," he said plainly. "You should see it for yourself."

Fox chuckled. "Artificial intelligence? Now that's a bold claim."

"Come," Jason said, already turning toward the main lab chamber. "Let me show you."

Bruce, Alfred, and Fox followed him inside. The lights dimmed as they entered.

And then they saw it.

Floating at the center of the chamber was a massive orb of golden light. It shimmered with a strange, half-ethereal quality—neither fully solid nor fully energy. Golden arcs of electricity danced across its surface, like veins of lightning cutting through a living star.

It pulsed, dimming and brightening like it had a heartbeat.

It didn't feel like a machine.

It felt alive.

Bruce, who had once stood face-to-face with aliens, demons, and gods, found himself speechless.

"My word," Alfred whispered.

Fox stepped forward, awe in his eyes. "Jason… this is the artificial intelligence you were talking about?"

"Definitely."

Fox's brows rose. "Incredible. But… I have to ask—where's the server?"

Jason tilted his head. "There isn't one. Not in the way you're thinking."

Fox chuckled. "You're joking. A system like this would require a massive server farm to handle the data load. And cooling. And support. There's no visible hardware. Where's the infrastructure?"

Bruce and Alfred exchanged glances, then turned back toward the golden orb, then to Jason.

Fox folded his arms, squinting. "You didn't hide it underground, did you?"

Jason smiled slightly, a glint in his eye.

"No," he said calmly. "It's not running on any traditional server."

"Then what—"

Jason raised a finger, cutting him off. "Ask it yourself."

The room went still.

Then, from the orb, a voice emerged. Smooth, genderless, calm—yet powerful.

"Hello, Mr. Fox. Hello, Mr. Wayne. Hello, Mr. Pennyworth. I am AURA—Autonomous Unified Reactive Algorithm. Jason is my creator. How may I assist you?"

The golden light pulsed once, gently.

Fox's jaw fell slightly open. Bruce took a step forward.

Jason stood proudly, hands in his coat pockets.

"You wanted to see artificial intelligence," he said. "Here it is."