[New York City. A Secure Stark Safehouse. Midnight.]
The safehouse was a windowless, concrete bunker beneath Brooklyn, originally designed by Tony Stark during the Chitauri invasion. Tonight, it served as the headquarters for the exiled Queen of Stark Industries.
Pepper Potts sat at a steel table, illuminated by the glow of a localized StarkPad. Happy Hogan paced the floor. Morgan was asleep on a cot in the corner, covered by a heavy wool blanket.
Sitting across from Pepper was Matt Murdock. The blind lawyer had his red glasses folded on the table, his hands resting on a heavy, dust-covered hard drive.
"Foggy and Karen dug this out of the deepest physical archives of Howard Stark's old legal firm," Matt said, his voice quiet to avoid waking the child. "It was buried under a shell corporation. The file is encrypted with a puzzle that the firm's partners said only Howard's true heir could solve."
Sebastian Michaelis stood in the corner, holding a tray with four cups of black coffee. He glided forward silently, placing a cup near Matt's hand.
"The Master was famously fond of puzzles, Mr. Murdock," Sebastian noted, his fuchsia eyes locking onto the dusty drive. "And famously paranoid."
Pepper connected the drive to her StarkPad. A prompt appeared, written in Tony's familiar, snarky code.
Input Override Password. Hint: What is the one thing I couldn't build in a cave with a box of scraps?
Pepper stared at it. She typed in A Heart.
Incorrect.
She typed in Time.
Incorrect. One attempt remaining before self-destruct.
"A cave," Sebastian murmured, folding his hands behind his back. "A box of scraps. He built the Mark I armor. He built an Arc Reactor. He built a weapon, and then he built a shield."
Sebastian looked down at the sleeping Morgan, and then at Pepper.
"Mrs. Stark. What is the one thing the Master always insisted was his greatest creation? The one thing that could not be engineered with metal and wire?"
Pepper's eyes widened. A small, watery smile broke across her face. She reached out and typed a single word into the prompt.
Legacy.
The screen flashed green.
"Access granted," F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s localized voice whispered from the pad. "Opening Project Cuckoo."
[The Cuckoo Protocol]
A massive stream of data flooded the screen.
"Boss knew," F.R.I.D.A.Y. explained, her digital voice laced with awe. "He discovered Arno's existence five years ago. He knew the biological DNA could technically override his own in the company's charter. So, he built a virus. The Cuckoo Protocol."
"What does it do?" Happy asked, leaning over the table.
"It is a complete genetic lockout," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said. "It recognizes Arno's specific bio-signature as a hostile foreign body. Once uploaded, it will permanently sever his DNA from the Stark mainframe. It legally and digitally transfers absolute, irrevocable authority to Morgan H. Stark, with Virginia Potts as proxy."
"Upload it," Pepper ordered immediately. "Take back the tower, F.R.I.D.A.Y."
"I cannot, Mrs. Stark," F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded apologetic. "Arno has air-gapped the servers. He severed the tower from the external internet to prevent a remote hack. The Cuckoo Protocol must be physically plugged into the Alpha Node in the server core on the 80th floor of Stark Tower."
"He has fifty Iron Armada drones patrolling that building," Happy groaned, rubbing his face. "And motion sensors. And thermal optics. It's a suicide mission."
A soft, polite throat-clearing echoed in the bunker.
Sebastian picked up the dusty hard drive with a white-gloved hand. He wiped a smudge of dirt from its casing with his thumb.
"A physical insertion," Sebastian smiled, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement in the dim bunker light. "How wonderfully vintage. I shall prepare my coat. A butler must occasionally take out the trash, after all."
[Stark Tower. The 80th Floor. 2:00 AM.]
The crown jewel of the New York skyline was locked down. Silver and gold drones circled the perimeter like sharks in a glass ocean.
Sebastian did not take the elevator.
High above the city streets, a black shadow crawled up the sheer glass face of the tower. Sebastian moved with impossible, terrifying agility, his boots clinging to the smooth surface, defying gravity without the use of suction cups or repulsors. The freezing wind whipped at his tailcoat.
He reached the 80th floor. He pulled a glass-cutter from his pocket—a simple diamond-tipped tool—and carved a perfect circle into the reinforced window. He popped the glass out, caught it before it could fall, and slipped inside.
He was in the server core. Rows of glowing blue towers hummed with unimaginable processing power.
Sebastian took a step forward.
"Intruder detected," a mechanized voice blared over the intercom. Not F.R.I.D.A.Y. This was Arno's crude, emotionless AI.
The heavy blast doors at the end of the hall hissed open. Four Iron Armada drones floated into the server room, their weapon systems charging with a lethal whine.
"You can't hide from me, butler," Arno's voice echoed through the drone's speakers. He sounded smug, likely sitting in the penthouse above. "My thermal imaging might not register your body heat, but the air pressure sensors track your displacement. Fire."
[The Digital Heist]
The drones unleashed a barrage of repulsor blasts.
Sebastian vanished.
He didn't use an EMP. A pulse would fry the Alpha Node and destroy Tony's virus. He had to dismantle them manually. And quietly.
He reappeared directly above the first drone. He didn't punch its armor; he slipped a silver butter knife into the microscopic seam beneath its optical sensor, severing the fiber-optic cluster with surgical precision. The drone went blind, spiraling into the floor and shutting down to prevent a collision.
One.
The second drone tracked his movement, firing a laser. Sebastian spun, his tailcoat flaring. He caught the drone's heavy kinetic rifle barrel with his bare hand, twisting it sharply to the left. The metal snapped. He used the broken barrel to smash the third drone's stabilizing thruster.
Two. Three.
The final drone lunged, extending a vibro-blade meant to slice through steel.
Sebastian sighed. He stepped inside the guard of the blade, placed his palm flat against the drone's chest plate, and channeled a microscopic burst of demonic energy directly into its battery pack. The battery overloaded instantly, fusing the circuitry without creating an explosion.
The fourth drone dropped like a stone.
Four.
Sebastian adjusted his cuffs. He walked smoothly to the center of the room, approaching the Alpha Node—a massive, glowing console.
"You're too late," Arno's voice snarled over the intercom, a hint of panic bleeding into his tone. "I'm locking the physical ports!"
"Speed," Sebastian said politely, pulling the dusty hard drive from his pocket, "is a matter of perspective, Mr. Arno."
His hand moved in a blur. Before the mechanized locks could slide over the USB ports, Sebastian slammed the drive into the console.
[The Cuckoo Hatches]
The blue lights of the server room instantly turned a brilliant, aggressive gold.
Then, they shifted to the warm, familiar blue of F.R.I.D.A.Y.
"Cuckoo Protocol engaged," F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice rang out through the entire tower, triumphant and sharp. "Scanning genetic signature. Arno Stark... recognized. Analyzing... Hostile anomaly detected. Purging."
Up in the penthouse, Arno Stark was locked inside his heavy, gold-and-silver exoskeleton.
Suddenly, his HUD flashed red.
ACCESS DENIED.
"No!" Arno yelled, slamming his gauntlets against his desk. "Override! I am the blood! I am the heir!"
"You are locked out, Mr. Stark," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied coldly. "Your Stark-tech privileges have been permanently revoked. Powering down exoskeleton to manual mode."
The hum of the Arc Reactor in Arno's chest plate died. The heavy armor suddenly became dead weight. He couldn't lift his arms. He couldn't walk. He was trapped inside a billion-dollar metal coffin.
Down in the server room, Sebastian watched the progress bar hit 100%.
"Transfer of authority complete," F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced. "Welcome back, Mrs. Stark."
Sebastian unplugged the drive and placed it carefully back into his breast pocket. He looked up at the security camera in the corner of the room, offering a flawless, polite bow.
"Checkmate, Sir," Sebastian murmured to the lens. "I suggest you wait quietly for the authorities. The NYPD will be arriving shortly to escort you off the premises. Do mind the heavy lifting; I hear walking in unpowered armor is terribly bad for the knees."
Sebastian turned and walked back toward the open window, stepping out into the freezing night air, his task complete. The House of Stark was secure once more.
[End of Chapter 85]