The city never truly slept. Even in the dead of night, Manhattan pulsed with restless energy—neon veins snaking through the darkness, horns echoing from distant avenues, the low hum of ambition never quite fading. Yet high above it all, in the glass-walled solitude of his penthouse, Tony Stark found a rare and uneasy stillness.
He stood by the window, the skyline sprawling beneath him like a circuit board, a glass of scotch catching the city's fractured light. The aftertaste of the White Corp party lingered—expensive champagne, forced laughter, the subtle tension that always followed men like Ethan Whitethorn. Tony's mind, however, was far from the revelry. It churned with questions, calculations, and a gnawing sense of foreboding.
Ethan Whitethorn. The name reverberated in Tony's thoughts, persistent as a warning alarm. He'd met visionaries before—men who dreamed in blueprints and built empires from nothing. But Ethan was different. There was a sharpness to him, a hunger that bordered on obsession. Tony recognized it instantly; he'd seen it in his own reflection, in the sleepless nights spent chasing the impossible. But with Ethan, it felt… dangerous.
"JARVIS," Tony said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, "pull up everything we have on Whitethorn. Cross-reference with SHIELD's files. I want to know what makes him tick."
"Yes, sir," came the AI's smooth reply, already sifting through terabytes of classified data.
Tony's gaze drifted from the city to his own reflection in the window—a ghostly double, haunted by memories of the party. He remembered the way Ethan had moved through the crowd, magnetic and unreadable, the way SHIELD agents had watched him with barely concealed suspicion. There was a secret in Ethan's eyes, something Tony couldn't quite decipher. He knew that look. He'd worn it himself, back when he still believed he could outsmart fate.
He set his glass down with a soft clink and began to pace, the penthouse silent except for the faint hum of arc reactors hidden in the walls. The world had changed since the invasion—since gods fell from the sky and monsters tore through city streets. Earth was no longer the center of its own universe, and men like Ethan were racing to fill the void, building things Tony could barely imagine.
But Tony Stark had never been one to play catch-up.
He stopped before a holographic display, fingers dancing across the interface. Blueprints and schematics bloomed in the air—ghosts of old projects, abandoned prototypes, dreams half-remembered and never quite forgotten. Yet one idea kept returning, insistent as a heartbeat: a suit of armor around the world.
Tony stared at the glowing lines, his own face reflected in the shifting light. "We can't keep reacting," he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. "We need to get ahead of the threats. We need… protection."
He hesitated, the weight of the world pressing in from all sides. Then, as if confessing to the city itself, he spoke aloud: "I want a suit of armor around the world."
The words hung in the air, heavy with hope and dread.
"JARVIS, open a new project file. Call it 'New World.'"
"Project 'New World' initiated," JARVIS intoned, the room filling with the soft glow of possibility.
Tony's hands moved with renewed purpose, summoning files labeled "Ultron," "Global Defense," "AI Integration." The old thrill surged through him—the intoxicating rush of creation, the sense that he could still shape the future. But beneath it all was a new urgency, a fear that no amount of genius could quite dispel.
"After what happened in New York, we can't afford to wait for the next invasion," Tony said quietly, almost to himself. "If Ethan's building his future, I need to build mine. For all of us."
He turned back to the window, the city sprawling endlessly below. Suit of Armor around the World.
===
The lab was alive with the hum of machinery and the glow of holographic screens. Tony Stark stood at the center, eyes darting between code and circuitry, his mind racing with possibilities. The idea of Ultron—an artificial intelligence that could protect the world—had taken root, but even Tony knew he couldn't do it alone.
He tapped his comm. "Ethan, you busy?"
A moment later, Ethan White's voice crackled through. "Depends. Is this a 'save the world' kind of busy or a 'blow up the lab' kind of busy?"
Tony smirked. "A little of both. I need your help on a project. Something big."
Ethan arrived at the lab within the hour, his curiosity piqued but his instincts on high alert. As Tony explained the Ultron initiative, Ethan's wariness grew. He'd seen what unchecked AI could do, and the idea of giving one the keys to global security sent a chill down his spine.
"Tony, you realize what you're proposing could go sideways in a thousand ways," Ethan said, scanning the schematics. "If Ultron decides we're the problem—"
"I know," Tony interrupted, his tone serious. "That's why I need you. I want every safeguard, every failsafe you can think of. If this thing even twitches wrong, I want it shut down before it can say 'Skynet.'"
Ethan nodded, but inside he knew the truth: some moments in time couldn't be changed. The Ultron project was a fixed point, a storm on the horizon he couldn't divert—only prepare for.
Together, they worked through the night, building the prototype. Ethan embedded layers of countermeasures—firewalls, kill switches, logic traps—anything to slow Ultron if it ever turned. But as the final code compiled, Ethan felt a knot in his stomach. He'd done all he could, but fate had a way of slipping through even the tightest nets.
Just as they finished, an urgent alert flashed across Tony's screen. "Sokovia. Something's happening—Hydra activity."
Tony's face hardened. "Get the jet ready. I'll handle this."
Ethan watched him go, mind racing. The world was changing, and not for the better. He'd heard whispers—Hydra embedded in the government, in S.H.I.E.L.D. Tony would need to watch his back, especially around Fury and the rest.
With Tony gone, Ethan slipped away to his own secret lab. He initiated Project Shut Out—a last line of defense. If any AI, Ultron or otherwise, ever came for him through technology, he'd be ready. He designed Thorn Block, an unbreakable vault, a digital fortress that could shield all of White Corp's sensitive projects from any threat.
He copied every critical file, every blueprint, every secret, and deleted them from the main system. Only he could access Thorn Block now. It was a silent promise: if the world burned, at least some things would remain safe.
As the sun rose, Ethan looked out over the city, knowing the storm was coming. All he could do was prepare—and hope it would be enough.
====
-Sokovia
The city of Sokovia was a war zone. Buildings smoldered, their facades blackened and windows shattered. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid tang of burning fuel. Sirens wailed in the distance, punctuated by the staccato bursts of gunfire and the distant rumble of collapsing masonry. The streets were littered with debris—shattered glass, twisted metal, and the remnants of once-busy lives. Civilians darted from cover to cover, clutching children and loved ones, their faces masks of fear and desperation.
Above it all, Tony Stark hovered in his Iron Man suit, repulsors glowing as he scanned the chaos below. His HUD flickered with threat assessments, marking Hydra agents in tactical black, their insignias barely visible beneath layers of body armor.
"Cap, I've got eyes on the east perimeter," Tony called out over the comms, voice tense. "Hawkeye, watch your six—Hydra's got snipers on the rooftops. Two o'clock, red brick building."
"Copy that, Stark," Steve Rogers replied, his shield raised as he led a group of terrified civilians through a shattered storefront. "Nat, can you clear a path to the west bridge? We've got to get these people out of here."
Natasha Romanoff, already moving with lethal grace, responded, "On it. Thor, cover me!" She sprinted across the open street, weaving between abandoned cars as bullets sparked off the pavement behind her.
Thor landed with a crash beside her, Mjolnir spinning. "Hydra's forces are no match for the God of Thunder!" he boomed, sending a bolt of lightning arcing through a Hydra tank. The vehicle exploded in a shower of sparks and flame, scattering enemy soldiers.
Clint Barton, perched atop a crumbling bell tower, loosed arrow after arrow with surgical precision. "I could use a little less thunder, big guy. You're messing with my aim," he quipped, sighting down another Hydra agent as the man tried to take cover behind a toppled statue.
"Just keep them off our backs, Barton," Natasha said, vaulting over a barricade and taking down two Hydra agents with swift, precise strikes. She disarmed one with a twist, sending his rifle skittering across the asphalt, then swept his legs out from under him. The second agent lunged, but she caught him with a taser disk, dropping him instantly.
Tony's HUD flickered with a new alert. A secure message, encrypted and urgent, pulsed on his screen. He ducked into a half-collapsed building, the walls pockmarked with bullet holes, and opened the file. What he saw made his blood run cold.
Hydra infiltration—deep, systematic, and recent. Not just in Sokovia, but back home. In S.H.I.E.L.D. In the government. The files were incomplete, names redacted, but the implication was clear: the enemy was everywhere, hiding in plain sight.
Tony's jaw clenched. He opened a secure line to Nick Fury.
"Fury, we've got a problem. Hydra's not just here—they're in S.H.I.E.L.D. I don't know who we can trust."
Fury's voice was grave. "I've suspected as much. But I need more than suspicions, Stark. We'll talk when you're back stateside."
"Be careful," Tony warned. "We don't know who's compromised."
"I always am," Fury replied, but Tony could hear the tension in his voice.
Outside, the battle raged on. Steve regrouped with Natasha and Thor as they pushed forward, Hydra agents falling back under the Avengers' relentless assault. The enemy was well-trained, moving in squads, using hand signals and covering fire. Some wore advanced exo-suits, their movements unnaturally fast and strong.
"Tony, what's the status?" Steve asked, ducking behind a car as bullets ricocheted off his shield. He glanced at a young girl clinging to her mother, offering a reassuring nod. "We need to get these people out now."
"Bad news, Cap. Hydra's got their claws in deeper than we thought. I'll brief you all when we're clear."
Thor smashed through a Hydra barricade, sending agents flying. "Then let us finish this quickly, so we may return home and root out these traitors!" He swung Mjolnir, creating a shockwave that sent a squad of Hydra soldiers sprawling.
Natasha glanced at Tony, her eyes sharp even as she reloaded her sidearm. "You think anyone back home is compromised?"
Tony's voice was tight. "I don't know. But until we do, trust no one."
Clint's voice crackled in. "Heads up, incoming reinforcements—north side! Looks like they've got a heavy weapons team."
Steve rallied the team. "Avengers, assemble! We end this here."
The team surged forward, fighting as one—each trusting the others with their lives, even as the shadow of betrayal loomed over them all. Natasha and Steve coordinated, clearing a path for the civilians. Thor and Tony provided cover, repulsor blasts and lightning keeping the enemy at bay. Clint picked off targets with unerring accuracy, calling out enemy positions.
As the last group of civilians made it to safety, Steve turned to his team, sweat and grime streaking his brow. "Let's finish this. For Sokovia—and for everyone counting on us back home."
The Avengers pressed on, the city echoing with the sounds of battle, their unity a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Back in New York, the city's skyline was a stark contrast to the chaos of Sokovia. Ethan White sat in a quiet corner of a nondescript café, eyes scanning the crowd. He'd received Fury's message—urgent, confidential, no details.
A shadow fell across the table as Nick Fury approached, his presence commanding even in civilian clothes.
"Ethan," Fury said, sliding into the seat across from him. "We need to talk."
Ethan nodded, his expression guarded. "This about Ultron, or something else?"
"Both," Fury replied. "Stark trusts you. I need to know what you know—and what you're planning. Hydra's deeper than we thought. I need allies I can trust."
Ethan leaned in, lowering his voice. "I'm working on something. A failsafe. If Ultron, or anything like it, ever goes rogue, I'll be ready. But you need to know—Hydra's not just in S.H.I.E.L.D. They're everywhere. And if they get their hands on Stark's tech, or Ultron…"
Fury's eye narrowed. "That's why I called you. We're going to need every safeguard we can get. Keep me in the loop, Ethan. And watch your back."
Ethan nodded. "You do the same."
--New York
Back in New York, the city's skyline was a stark contrast to the chaos of Sokovia. Ethan White sat in a quiet corner of a nondescript café, eyes scanning the crowd. He'd received Fury's message—urgent, confidential, no details.
A shadow fell across the table as Nick Fury approached, his presence commanding even in civilian clothes.
"Ethan," Fury said, sliding into the seat across from him. "We need to talk."
Ethan nodded, his expression guarded. "This about Ultron, or something else?"
"Both," Fury replied. "Stark trusts you. I need to know what you know—and what you're planning. Hydra's deeper than we thought. I need allies I can trust."
Ethan leaned in, lowering his voice. "I'm working on something. A failsafe. If Ultron, or anything like it, ever goes rogue, I'll be ready. But you need to know—Hydra's not just in S.H.I.E.L.D. They're everywhere.
Fury's eye narrowed. "That's why I called you. We're going to need every safeguard we can get. Keep me in the loop, Ethan. And watch your back."
Ethan reached into his jacket and slid a sleek, matte-black phone across the table. "Here. It's a White Corp prototype. Completely secure, runs on our own system—no outside access, no tracking, no backdoors. If you need to reach me, use this. And if you ever think you're being watched, destroy it. It'll wipe itself clean."
Fury picked up the phone, weighing it in his hand. "Impressive. Not many people can build something I can't crack."
Ethan allowed himself a small smile. "That's the idea."
Fury observed him for a moment, a newfound respect evident in his eyes. "You're sharp, White. Stark was right about you. We need more minds like yours on our side. "Ethan gave a smirk".
Ethan's face grew serious. "I've been looking into the Hydra infiltration since I got a call warning me to watch my steps. At first, I thought it might be the Hand, or maybe the Ten Rings—both have the reach and the resources. But every trail, every lead, kept circling back to Hydra. They're embedded deep, and they're patient."
Fury's brow furrowed. "The Hand? The Ten Rings? Who else are we dealing with?"
Ethan's eyes flickered with caution. "People we can't afford to offend. Not yet. They're powerful, and they're watching. But right now, Hydra is the immediate threat. If they get their hands on Ultron, or any of Stark's tech, it won't just be S.H.I.E.L.D. at risk—it'll be everyone."
Fury nodded, his tone grim. "Then we focus on Hydra. But keep those other names in mind. If they move, I want to know."
Ethan nodded. "You'll know. And Fury—if you ever need a place to hide something, or someone, let me know. I've got a few tricks left."
Fury's lips curled into a rare, approving smile. "I'll keep that in mind, White. Welcome to the real fight."
They shook hands, a silent pact forming between them. As Fury started to rise, Ethan gestured for him to wait.
"Nick, there's more," Ethan said quietly. "I've been tracking Hydra's digital movements. They're not just after S.H.I.E.L.D. files—they're looking for something specific. Something Stark's been working on. I think they know about Ultron, or at least the potential of it."
Fury's jaw tightened. "How close are they?"
"Too close for comfort," Ethan replied. "They've got moles in places I didn't even think possible. I've seen traces of their code in government servers, even in some of the Avengers' comms. I've started scrubbing, but it's like fighting a hydra—cut off one head, two more pop up."
Fury leaned in, voice low. "You said you looked into the Hand and the Ten Rings. What did you find?"
Ethan hesitated, then spoke. "The Hand is old, Nick. They deal in shadows, magic, things that don't make sense on paper. They're not interested in Ultron—at least, not yet. The Ten Rings, though… they're watching. They've got their own agenda, and if they see an opportunity, they'll take it. But right now, Hydra's the one making moves."
Fury nodded slowly. "You think they'll make a play soon?"
"I do," Ethan said. "And when they do, it'll be big. I've set up a system—ThornBlock. If anything goes wrong, if Hydra or anyone else tries to get their hands on my tech, everything gets locked down. Only I can access it. Not even Stark knows all the details."
Fury's gaze was steady. "You trust me with this?"
Ethan met his eyes. "I trust you to do what's necessary. That's why I'm telling you. But you need to know—if things go south, I'll do whatever it takes to keep this tech out of the wrong hands. Even if it means burning it all down."
Fury's lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded. "Sometimes, that's the only way. Just make sure you give me a heads up before you light the match."
Ethan chuckled, the tension easing for a moment. "Deal."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the world pressing in around them. Finally, Fury stood, pocketing the secure phone.
"Stay sharp, White. And keep your eyes open. In this game, trust is a luxury."
Ethan watched him go, feeling the gravity of their alliance settle in. The world was darker than he'd imagined—but maybe, just maybe, they had a fighting chance.