At that very moment, inside the executive office of Vanderbuilt Technologies, the air shimmered with a digital glow.
Sitting behind the grand obsidian desk, Henry leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes gleaming with quiet calculation.
Before him floated two holographic projections—twin streams of live visual data suspended in midair.
On the left screen played the now-famous demonstration video released by Stark Industries, showcasing Tony Stark's newly unveiled Exoskeleton Armor. Crowds cheered, media headlines flashed, and investors celebrated the company's rebound.
But the other feed—the right one—was something entirely different.
It showed Pepper Potts wearing the Knight Zero-One armor, guided personally by Tony Stark inside his underground laboratory. Tony's voice echoed faintly through the speakers, instructing, adjusting, explaining.
Henry smiled faintly.
This footage was private. Extremely private. Stark Industries' internal test videos were encrypted at the highest level, with zero access points from the outside world. Under normal circumstances, no one—no matter how powerful—should have been able to see it.
And yet, here it was.
How did Henry obtain it?
Simple. It all went back to the incident involving Izzy and J.A.R.V.I.S.
When Izzy—a cyber intelligence created under Henry's command—had last crossed digital paths with J.A.R.V.I.S., she hadn't just blocked its external access. She had quietly implanted something far more dangerous: a secret backdoor.
This invisible program allowed Izzy—and through her, Henry—to enter and monitor J.A.R.V.I.S. from within, without the AI even realizing it.
From that moment onward, every time Tony used J.A.R.V.I.S., every command, blueprint, or prototype design flowed silently through that hidden gateway straight into Henry's servers.
In other words—Tony Stark's secrets were no longer his own.
Henry swirled the glass of wine in his hand, amused. "How interesting…"
He studied the two videos again, side by side.
The first showed the public face of Stark Industries—the cautious businessman trying to appease shareholders.
The second showed the inventor's true passion, the unfiltered creativity that made Tony Stark the legend he was destined to be.
Henry's smirk widened.
"So, my little Modia demonstration really did inspire him after all."
He had initially unveiled the Modia Units to the world for business leverage. He hadn't expected the world's most brilliant engineer to take that inspiration and create a fully functional prototype of powered armor—years ahead of schedule.
"Knight Zero-One…" Henry whispered the name, amused. "What an ironic title. A hero born from imitation, yet destined to shape the future."
He lifted his right hand, summoning the familiar interface of his system window—the one that governed his strange advantage over this reality. The luminous numbers across it glowed brighter than ever.
His "World Points," the mysterious energy generated by the shifts in destiny, had skyrocketed again—from just over 400,000 to nearly 600,000.
"So, Tony's innovation alone shifted the world line that much," Henry murmured with a grin. "Just as powerful as when the first Modia Unit went public."
It made sense. Tony Stark was no ordinary human. He was a pivot point in the world's fate—a storm that changed everything he touched. His every invention, every revelation, created ripples through the fabric of this universe.
"If I wanted to, I could destroy that vortex right now," Henry mused aloud. "Send a single agent and end him before the legend begins."
He paused, then chuckled to himself.
"But where's the fun in that?"
Henry had no interest in crude power plays. He preferred strategy and entertainment—letting events unfold slowly, watching people dance unknowingly to his tune.
"Let's see how far you'll go, Iron Man."
He closed the projection with a flick of his wrist. "And when you're ready, perhaps you'll come knocking at Vanderbuilt Technologies yourself."
---
Hell's Kitchen: The Cleanup Report
Henry turned to his left. "Izzy, what's the status of our operations in Hell's Kitchen?"
Standing beside him was Izzy, his loyal AI in human form—her silver-blue eyes glowed faintly as she projected a new holographic map into the air.
"Mr. President," she began, her tone crisp yet respectful. "The urban reclamation program has been running for fifteen days. Eighty percent of Hell's Kitchen is now under full control."
As she spoke, the 3D map of New York's infamous district lit up before them—dozens of red dots scattered across the digital landscape. Each red mark represented a gang stronghold or criminal faction.
As Izzy's report continued, the red dots began to disappear one by one, replaced by clean, blue sectors.
"Most remaining gang leaders have gone underground," she explained. "They've scattered and are attempting to avoid surveillance. However, given another two or three days, we could identify and apprehend the rest."
Henry shook his head, setting the wine glass down. "No need."
Izzy blinked. "Sir?"
"When the water's too clear, there are no fish," Henry said calmly. "A city without its shadows is a city without control. We've done enough. The rest should stay free—let them remind the world that order always needs us."
He rose from his chair, his expression unreadable yet confident. "Compile all operation footage and data. Send it to Chief George at the NYPD."
He paused, his gaze sharpening. "And make sure to remove every trace of the Modia combat units. No one should see what really cleaned the streets."
"Understood."
Izzy's fingers danced over a glowing console, the data streams rewriting and compressing in real time. Within seconds, the entire mission record—complete with falsified timestamps and official seals—was perfectly prepared.
Henry walked to the display wall on his left. Hanging there was a series of metallic tokens—the Upgrade Keys he had collected through past missions. They shimmered with intricate circuits, glowing faintly under the room's cold lighting.
He reached out and brushed his fingers across them, smiling faintly. Four keys now. Each one a step closer to completing his first grand project.
"Soon," he whispered, "everything will be ready."
Izzy turned toward him again. "The reports are complete, Mr. President. Uploading to the secured government channels now."
Lines of code raced across the display as data packets transferred at blinding speed.
Within sixty seconds, General Ross and Police Director George received a polished dossier detailing the "Vanderbuilt Operation" —a meticulously fabricated success story that showed the company's cooperation with law enforcement in eliminating gang crime.
"Done, sir," Izzy said, smiling softly.
Henry nodded approvingly. "Good work." He raised his glass once more and took a slow sip. "The future belongs to Modia Units, Izzy. Humanity will soon realize that our technology isn't a threat—it's the next evolution."
---
Moments Later – New York City Hall
Inside a conference room of polished marble and holographic screens, high-ranking officials from both the NYPD and the NSA were gathered. The file from Vanderbuilt Technologies played on the main display.
The video showed perfectly edited footage of robotic operations supporting law enforcement—machines moving with precision and discipline, suppressing gang violence, restoring peace to the streets.
One official turned to another. "These results are remarkable. Efficiency up eighty percent, zero civilian casualties."
A representative from the state's Defense Council nodded slowly. "And the safety review? Any risk of malfunction or AI aggression?"
A young analyst replied, "Negative. The data submitted shows clean operational coding—flawless synchronization between machine and command. Vanderbuilt's safety protocols pass all federal standards."
After a brief silence, the city representative leaned forward.
"Then I think it's time," he said. "Let's draft a formal agreement."
With that decision, the New York City Government officially initiated cooperation with Vanderbuilt Technologies.
---
Back in his office, Henry received the notification before the officials even finished signing the documents. A faint smile curved across his lips.
"And thus begins the age of Modia."
He raised his glass toward the city skyline beyond his window. Below, the lights of New York shimmered like circuits in a living machine—his machine.
Somewhere else, Tony Stark's armor hummed faintly, its design evolving, its destiny aligning unknowingly with Henry's plans.
Two geniuses, two worlds, now intertwined by invisible code.
And through J.A.R.V.I.S.'s secret door, Henry would see it all.
---
.--------------------------
Visit our Patreon for more:
Get membership in patreon to read more chapters
Extra chapters available in patreon
patreon.com/Dragonscribe31
----------------------------------------------------- .