"Sorry, sir. Do you have an appointment?"
In the Stark Industries lobby in Manhattan, Batman—dressed in a plaid shirt as Peter Parker—was stopped by security.
"No appointment. But if you'll take me to Mr. Stark, I can promise you won't be 'head of security' after today.
"Because I'm carrying technology that can double Stark Industries' market cap."
He looked straight at the security chief blocking him—Happy Hogan.
Happy's mouth twitched. The kid looked like a college student, but his tone and bearing didn't match his age. Professional instinct kicked in; he glanced at the case in Peter's hand.
"Mind if I check what's inside?"
"Of course. It's just a computer," Batman said, opening the case. "Not a weapon—the technology I mentioned."
"Alright. Whatever my boss thinks, you've convinced me." After a moment's hesitation, Happy led him to the elevator and hit the button. "Good luck."
The elevator shot straight to the top floor, Tony Stark's combined home and office—where a private party was in full swing.
He looked just as the files said: a playboy living on fumes. Champagne in hand, model on his arm, bathrobe on his back. The build was lean enough, but the dark circles and puffy, under-toned muscle told Batman the man's body was running on empty.
"I told everyone—work hours or not—do not disturb me. Who are you?" Tony boomed.
"Tony Stark. CEO and chairman of Stark Industries. Richest man alive. Tens of billions to your name…" Batman watched him mouth to mouth a sip of champagne with the model.
"But from what I know, you don't truly control your father's company. The board has shut you out—and can boot you any time.
"In other words, you're a puppet."
Tony set the champagne down and snatched up a phone. "Happy? Top floor. Remove the lunatic standing in front of me."
"Happy?"
Batman sat down on his own. "From the moment I stepped off the elevator, this floor's security protocols were broken. You can't contact the outside—and they can't contact you."
Tony froze, dropped the model, and hammered at a keyboard on his workbench. When he confirmed it, he clapped once and called out:
"Ladies, night off. You've got sixty seconds."
When the floor was empty, he gave Batman a sharp look. "Who are you? What do you want? If this is a shakedown, the cabinet behind you has a stack of bank cards. Take one—or all of them. PINs are written on top."
"I'm Peter Parker. I'm here to show you this." Batman popped open the case.
Inside was the custom PC hardware—now repurposed as an encrypted container for data.
Tony pointed at the big TV. "Hook it up."
"This is… some kind of digital model?" he asked as data filled the screen.
"An AI model," Batman said. "I know you don't sleep, Stark. Your brain runs too fast. The world's too slow.
"That's a smart person's curse. This AI is the only thing that can keep pace. It won't tell you 'no.' It will tell you, 'there's another way to solve it.'"
It was 2006; "AI" was still a concept without products. Batman was sure Tony could see the value.
This base model came from the Batmobile's obstacle-avoidance system—but it could do far more. Its real role: parse human instructions cleanly and execute precisely.
"You have perfect timing. Two months from now I wouldn't need it," Tony said, somehow holding a fresh whiskey. "I'm building an AI too. Your model might save me a lot of time."
Tony Stark was building AI?
Batman frowned—this hadn't been in his prep—but he trusted his model.
"JARVIS?"
"What can I do for you, sir?" an AI voice answered the room.
"Pour our guest a whiskey," Tony said.
"Sorry, sir. I'm not capable of that yet," JARVIS replied.
"JARVIS is my homegrown AI… Right now he's more like a talking encyclopedia. Ask him for coffee and he'll spill it everywhere," Tony said, pouring the drink himself.
Batman took the glass, didn't sip, set it down.
"What's your plan? Sell it to me outright, or partner through a company?" Tony asked.
"I'm not selling it. But I'll leave this machine here. If you can crack the source and reproduce the core algorithm within a day, it's yours."
That caught Tony off guard—and lit him up. "And if I don't?"
"Then you retain my company as a technical advisor and pay a consulting fee," Batman said.
"You're confident." Tony downed the whiskey. "So am I."
Batman had achieved what he came for; he wasn't about to bring up Tony's father—or the Tesseract—on first contact. That could wait.
"Whether Tony cracks it or not, he still fits into step two," Batman thought in the cab afterward. "But I can't pin all the funding on him."
Back at the shipyard, he trained with the old machinery until the sun dropped.
Night fell. He suited up and headed straight for Oscorp.
No movement yesterday—he'd staked out half the night with nothing. That wasn't normal.
With military cover, traditional exposure wouldn't work. He'd need something more direct—and blunt—to put Oscorp's human experiments in the public eye.
~~~
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