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The energy inside the conference hall still shimmered with the aftershock of Tony Stark's presentation.
No one could deny it—the Jericho Missile had dominated the room.
Whispers rippled through the seated executives and generals.
"Is he trying to take over the energy market now?"
"Trust Stark to challenge entire industries in one breath."
Everyone knew Tony's temperament—brash, arrogant, brilliant—but none could match the audacity behind his ideas.
He made impossible things feel inevitable.
And because of that, the audience already felt the summit had peaked. What could possibly follow Iron Man himself?
Some leaned back, half-bored, ready to endure the lesser companies that remained on the roster.
Then the host's voice echoed across the hall:
> "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you to President Tony Stark for that inspiring presentation!
Now, please welcome the President of Vanderbuilt Technologies, Mr. Henry, to introduce their latest breakthrough!"
A mild stir passed through the crowd.
"Vanderbuilt Technologies? Weren't they the ones who caused a sensation a few years ago?"
"I thought that company went quiet. Didn't they get black-listed by the majors?"
"I'm curious to see what this young upstart thinks he can show after Stark."
In the dim back row, several older industrialists traded smug looks. They were the same men who had colluded years ago to suppress Vanderbuilt's rise. To them, Henry's invitation tonight was laughable—a fluke.
One of them smirked. "He'll have nothing. A couple of recycled drones, maybe. Let's see what trick he pulls before we crush him again."
Henry, meanwhile, felt every glance but met none of them. His smile was calm, cold, almost amused.
Without hurry, he rose from his seat, buttoned his dark blazer, and began the slow walk toward the stage.
As he passed the aisle, he crossed paths with Tony Stark, who was descending from the podium, basking in polite applause.
Their eyes met.
Tony stopped. That face—Henry's—sparked a flicker of recognition. Is this the guy who hacked J.A.R.V.I.S.?
Before he could ask, Henry leaned close enough that only Tony could hear.
"Tony," he said lightly, "how did the system feel just now?"
Tony froze, his smirk faltering.
"So it was you."
"Relax," Henry whispered, still walking. "Just a joke to remind you not to trespass. You wanted to see what Vanderbuilt has been working on? Sit tight—you're about to."
He patted Tony's shoulder once—friendly, almost—and continued forward.
Tony stared after him, jaw tight. The realization sank like iron in his gut.
He did it. That little bastard actually took down J.A.R.V.I.S.
"When I get back," Tony muttered under his breath, "I'm going to make him regret that stunt."
From the gallery, a few executives misread the exchange completely.
"Oh, look at that! Henry knows Tony Stark personally."
"Smart move. Networking with the big leagues."
General Ross watched too, arms folded, eyes sharp. "That kid's confident," he murmured to his aide. "I like confidence."
---
Henry reached the center of the stage.
Spotlights converged. The massive screen behind him flickered to life, ready for whatever feed his company had prepared.
Down below, Izzy waited among the Vanderbuilt staff. The moment Henry lifted two fingers, her eyes shimmered electric blue.
> "Network infiltration complete," she whispered through their encrypted link.
The main screen behind Henry flashed awake, bathing the hall in cool white light.
Henry spread his arms slightly, voice calm but resonant.
> "Ladies and gentlemen—are you ready to witness the dawn of a new era?"
The murmurs quieted. Even those who had half-tuned out a moment ago leaned forward again.
Henry smiled faintly.
> "Tonight, Vanderbuilt Technologies brings you not just another product—but a companion born from the next age of artificial intelligence."
He gestured toward the screen.
> "We call it… Humajiya."
The room darkened.
On screen, a sleek humanoid figure sat motionless in a laboratory chair. The lighting was minimal, the air thick with tension. Then a voice-over began—clear, professional, almost poetic.
> "In a new age of intelligent technology, humanity meets its reflection."
The robot's eyes suddenly glowed to life—pale blue at first, then shifting into a warm, human amber.
From off-screen, a man's voice—Henry's—spoke: "Good morning."
The video cut to the robot's visual perspective: rapid facial recognition scans, environmental mapping, then a calm reply.
> "Good morning, President Henry."
A ripple of awe passed through the hall. Even Tony blinked.
Henry's voice narrated over the footage:
> "Each Humajiya is an autonomous synthetic being, powered by our proprietary Cognitive Object Recognition System—a framework that allows it not merely to process commands, but to understand context. To recognize faces, emotions, and intent."
On-screen, the demonstration expanded: the robot rising, adjusting its tie, mirroring human movement with uncanny grace.
> "Unlike conventional androids, Humajiyas do not rely solely on local processing. They are connected through the Vanderbuilt Satellite Network, giving them access to real-time updates and cloud-level intelligence without compromising privacy or security."
Footage shifted to scenes of Humajiyas at work—one guiding elderly patients in a hospital, another piloting a cargo loader at a port, a third calibrating a drone under battlefield dust.
The hall went silent.
Umbrella's executives leaned forward, faces tight. The military delegates exchanged low whispers. General Ross's brow furrowed—not in skepticism, but in thought.
> "After six years of continuous development," the narration continued, "Vanderbuilt Technologies has achieved full independent behavioral learning in synthetic intelligence. The result—machines that can reason, adapt, and protect."
The last scene cut to a Humajiya shielding a fallen soldier from debris during an explosion simulation.
Then the screen faded to black.
Applause started—hesitant at first, then swelling into a steady roar.
---
Henry let the sound roll for a few seconds before he raised a hand, quieting the room.
> "Humajiya," he said, "is not a weapon. It is a decision. A choice between chaos and cooperation. Between automation and partnership."
He took a slow step forward.
> "Our creation isn't designed to replace soldiers, doctors, or engineers. It's built to support them—to fill the gaps human reaction time cannot."
Behind him, the screen showed a final line of text:
> 'Humanity × Artificial Intelligence = Humajiya'
Henry concluded softly, "It's not about machines thinking like us. It's about us finally learning to think with them."
A beat of silence.
Then the applause came again—louder, longer, genuine.
Even General Ross was clapping, his expression unreadable. The aide beside him whispered, "Sir, this could cut operational casualties dramatically."
Ross nodded once. "And reduce reliance on live troops. That's leverage."
Nearby, Norman Osborn leaned toward one of his assistants. "If he can really stabilize that AI-link, Vanderbuilt just jumped ahead of every robotics lab on the East Coast."
Justin Hammer, less gracious, scowled. "It's smoke and mirrors. Probably scripted responses. You'll see."
But Tony Stark said nothing. His eyes stayed on the stage, thoughtful, almost wary.
He recognized brilliance when he saw it—and he hated admitting it.
---
Backstage, Izzy monitored the data feed, ensuring every byte of Vanderbuilt's network demonstration remained flawless. The Humajiya operating in the video was no animation; it was a live feed from Vanderbuilt HQ, running in real time through encrypted satellite connection.
Izzy's fingers tapped the table lightly as she smiled. "President, all channels stable. External tracing blocked."
"Good," Henry said under his breath, smiling to himself.
For him, the success of the presentation wasn't about applause—it was about message. The giants of the world fought for bigger explosions, faster missiles, stronger soldiers. He wasn't competing with them. He was introducing evolution.
---
When he returned to his seat, several government aides and delegates discreetly exchanged cards with his assistants.
General Ross glanced toward him once more. "That one," he said quietly, "I want in the post-summit evaluation group."
Tony, catching the line, exhaled through his nose. "Well, Henry," he muttered, "you just made things interesting."
And in the far corners of the hall, the very men who once laughed at Vanderbuilt Technologies sat stiff and silent—watching the young president who had just stolen the future out from under their feet.
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