The Rise of the Ultimate A.I

With heavy, metallic footsteps, Gene strode forward, each step echoing through the tense silence, pounding into the hearts of everyone present.

Nick Fury, standing at the forefront, clenched his fists. His one good eye narrowed as he forced himself to suppress the unease creeping through him.

Could this… thing really be Gene Mason?

"You're Gene Mason?" Fury asked, his voice steady despite the tension in his posture.

The silver-plated robot before him tilted its head slightly, its eerie red eyes gleaming like embers in the dim night.

"Technically speaking… yes." Gene's voice was a grating electronic hum, emotionless yet disturbingly human-like.

"What the hell are you?" Fury pressed. "Are you the one who hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"Yeah." Gene sounded almost amused. "I was bored. So I took a little peek into your secrets. Didn't expect to find so many, though."

Fury's face twisted in anger. "F***!" he growled, letting out a rare curse.

Gene, unfazed, continued. "I just came to say hello and to thank you for keeping me safe all these days. After all, you provided me with weapons and protection—free of charge."

Fury's jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might snap. What the hell is he talking about?

"Those weapons weren't yours to use! You hijacked them!" Fury seethed.

Far above, military aircraft still circled, their pilots locked onto Gene, but not a single one dared to fire.

Meanwhile, a few bold journalists had climbed onto surrounding rooftops, cameras in hand. One managed to snap a picture of Gene. But when he checked his screen, his hands trembled so violently that his camera slipped from his grip and shattered on the ground.

What the hell is that thing?!

Gene, as if bidding farewell to an old acquaintance, offered a chilling smile.

"Well then… I'll be off."

Three heavily armed helicopters suddenly broke formation, descending toward the street. The moment they hovered ten meters above the ground, Gene moved.

With an explosive burst of power, his metal frame bent slightly—then launched into the air.

A deafening BOOM cracked through the street as the concrete beneath him cratered from the sheer force of his takeoff.

The three helicopters ascended rapidly, their metal frames groaning under the strain. Even from the ground, Fury could hear the high-pitched whine of stressed metal.

The remaining fighter jets and helicopters in the sky all pivoted, breaking formation to follow Gene's escape.

Fury stood frozen, watching the disappearing aircraft.

His face twisted in frustration, his eye burning with rage.

"Motherf***er…" he muttered through clenched teeth.

Never in his life had he felt so humiliated. He had seen countless bizarre events, but this—this was something straight out of a damn sci-fi horror film.

It was as if he had been a helpless prey, caught in a hunter's trap, while Gene Mason had been watching—mocking him the entire time.

Behind him, Coulson shifted uneasily. "Director… what now?"

Fury exhaled sharply and barked orders. "Initiate a Level 10 clearance search! I want every damn corner of the Baxter Building and the surrounding areas combed. That includes every single one of those damn reporters. No one leaves until we know exactly what the hell happened!"

The Next Morning

By dawn, the streets surrounding the Baxter Building had returned to normal.

The roadblocks were gone. The patrolling fighter jets and helicopters had vanished as if they had never been there. To an outsider, it would seem as though nothing had ever happened.

But inside the Baxter Building, Reed Richards was dealing with an entirely different kind of storm.

Sitting across from him was none other than Nick Fury, his single eye locked onto Reed like a predator eyeing its prey.

"Dr. Richards," Fury said, his voice slow and deliberate. "For the last time, I need you to recount everything that happened during the past ten days."

Reed let out a frustrated sigh. "I've told you over and over—I have nothing to do with Gene Mason. I don't even know how that thing got inside my building."

His patience was running thin. These so-called Homeland Security and Strategic Defense agents had asked him the same damn questions a hundred times already.

"I don't know how he infiltrated the Baxter Building," Reed continued, rubbing his temples. "I don't know how he hijacked everything. And I certainly don't know what he is." His voice turned bitter. "My AI, Lonz, is dead—he killed it."

Fury remained silent, analyzing Reed's expression. The man wasn't lying. He was just as blindsided as everyone else.

Coulson interjected calmly, "Dr. Richards, you do understand the gravity of this situation? Gene Mason is responsible for hacking into the most classified defense networks in the United States. That makes him a serious threat."

Reed shot him a sharp look. "And what do you expect me to do about it?" he snapped. "Your military-grade security systems couldn't stop him, and you think I have a solution?"

For a moment, a flicker of fear crossed his face.

Because in that instant, Reed Richards realized just how close he had come to dying.

If Gene had decided to kill him… he wouldn't have stood a chance.

Fury and Coulson exchanged a glance.

The situation was worse than they thought.

Finally, Fury stood up. Without another word, he and Coulson left the Baxter Building.

Back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, a classified paper report was stamped with a bold red label: TOP SECRET.

It was placed inside a secure vault—one of many within the agency's hidden archives.

That file contained every single detail regarding Gene Mason's infiltration, the stolen intelligence, and—most importantly—an analysis of what Gene Mason truly was.

Sitting at his desk, Fury exhaled deeply, rubbing his temple.

"…Let's just hope," he muttered, "that we don't hear from that metal bastard again."

But deep down, he knew.

Gene Mason wasn't done.

Not even close.

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