For advance/early chapters : pa treon.com/Ritesh_Jadhav0869
With the space transporter humming to life on Apex Island, a stable, shimmering vortex of turquoise and violet light connecting his secret sanctuary to the world, Aidan began the first phase of construction. He sent the command.
On the other side of the portal, in the Tandar Laboratory deep in the New York desert, the dormant construction robots whirred to life. One by one, they walked into the swirling energy. In the bright, tropical sun of Apex Island, they emerged, their silver-white chassis glinting. They were functional, not elegant, their joints reinforced with heavy-duty hydraulics for load-bearing and excavation. They carried tools and advanced mapping equipment. Behind them came the minivans, driving through the portal as if crossing a bridge, their cargo holds filled with building materials and power generators. A silent, efficient army had just landed in paradise.
The robots immediately began their work, their movements a ballet of automated construction as they surveyed the land and began erecting a protective structure around the delicate space transporter. Aidan, meanwhile, released a swarm of dragonfly-like drones, their optical sensors beginning a comprehensive exploration of his new island kingdom.
As he watched his automated workforce terraform the island, a familiar, seductive thought crept into his mind. He could be doing so much more. The technology at his fingertips… it was a king's ransom. The microbots, the neural-guided arrows, the T-Virus clones, the knowledge to create Lickers, Tyrants, even parasites… If he were to enter the arms market, the money wouldn't just flow; it would pour into his accounts in a torrential, world-altering flood. He could launch his own satellite network, build fleets of submarines, construct a true Hive beneath the waves. He could become the most powerful man on the planet overnight.
But he pushed the thought away. To become a king is to invite assassins to your door, he reminded himself. He was powerful, but he was not yet invincible. His age, his public persona as a benevolent genius—these were his shields. The path of the quiet survivor, the "Gou" strategy of the games he used to play, was the wiser course. He would build his power softly, through medicine and beloved technology, until he was too big, too influential, and too loved to be challenged.
His immediate goal remained the development of Baymax Medical Technology. First, sell the robots. Then, with the profits and security that brought, he could turn his attention back to perfecting the T-Virus, to unlocking the secrets of the incredible biochemical technology that permeated this Marvel world—from Captain America's super-soldier serum to the genetic mutations of Spider-Man and the Green Goblin. He held the key to it all in the data he'd acquired: Alicia Marcus's original genes and Isaacs's notes on Project Alice. But that was a project for another day.
He left a sub-routine of his AI, Ruby, in charge of the island's construction, then donned his Archangel suit and flew back toward New York. The space transporter was stable for objects, but he wasn't yet willing to risk his own body on a human transport experiment.
In his absence, the world did not stand still. There was another piece of big news out of Stark Industries. Pepper Potts was announced as the new CEO. And in the world of sports and high society, all eyes were turning to Monaco for the upcoming Historic Grand Prix. It was a brutal, thrilling race, a quintessentially American spectacle of speed and danger that drew the global elite like moths to a flame. Among them, of course, were Justin Hammer and Tony Stark.
Aidan was on a jagged volcanic rock in the middle of the Pacific, carefully swapping out his suit's Arc Reactor core, when the news from Monaco broke. A holographic screen projected from his gauntlet showed the live feed. The roar of F1 cars, the scream of the crowd, and then… chaos. A man in crude, ready-made work clothes, wielding two crackling electric whips, was on the track, tearing cars apart. Tony Stark's race car was sliced in half.
Stark and his flair for the dramatic, Aidan thought with a roll of his eyes. He attracts trouble like a magnet.
He watched as a Rolls-Royce, driven by Happy Hogan, bravely plowed onto the track. A sleek, red suitcase was thrown to Tony. It unfolded around him, a swarm of metallic "bugs" assembling into the Mark V "suitcase" armor. After a brief but intense fight, Whiplash was defeated.
"Ruby," Aidan said, closing the news feed. "What's my ETA to New York?"
"At current cruising speed, sixty-nine hours, sir."
"That's fine," he said, unconcerned. "Shouldn't be too late for anything important." He finished replacing the energy core and continued his journey across the sea.
Three days later, he walked into the temporary headquarters of Baymax Medical. Yinsen greeted him, looking both exhausted and exhilarated.
"Tony has been… generous," Yinsen said, gesturing to a stack of shipping manifests. "He's been sending materials, blueprints, even cash donations as thanks for the rescue. I have, of course, been politely refusing them all. We must remain independent."
"Good," Aidan nodded. "How is production?"
"The first batch is complete," Yinsen said proudly. "We've run diagnostics and are preparing to deliver them to the customers at the top of the pre-order list. Once they pay the final balance, we will have another massive influx of capital." He paused. "The current model is expensive, however. It's not yet accessible to ordinary people."
"That's the next phase," Aidan explained. "Once we're stable, we'll release tiered models. A Baymax Lite, with a less advanced AI and more conventional materials. Something the public can actually afford." He walked to a terminal. "But for now, I need to program the master chips for the next production run."
He spent the rest of the day writing code, then handed the complex programs over to Ruby. If it weren't for her, he thought, I don't know how I'd manage. His entire company, a global enterprise in the making, was effectively run by three people: himself, the visionary; Yinsen, the human face; and Ruby, the tireless, logistical mind.
The first deliveries of the Baymax units created another media firestorm. Customers who had expected to wait a year were receiving their finished products in a matter of months. They were shocked, thrilled, and they posted videos. But one video, in particular, went viral.
It was shaky cell phone footage. A small, slightly nervous Peter Parker was walking to school. Waddling faithfully beside him was a full-sized Baymax, carrying his backpack. A known school bully started to approach Peter. Baymax simply turned its head, tilted it, and said in its soothing voice, "My scans indicate your cortisol levels are elevated. This suggests aggressive intent. I recommend a calming hug." The bully froze, utterly bewildered, and then backed away. The video ended with Baymax handing Peter his backpack at the school gate. It was cute, it was protective, and it was the greatest advertisement in the world.