The basement of the Hargrove mansion—now renamed Smith Manor in a practical impulse by Erick—pulsed with the energy of uninterrupted creation. The ancient stone walls, reinforced with layers of acoustic insulation he himself had installed, echoed the low hum of industrial fans and the rhythmic click of virtual keyboards projected into the air. Erick was bent over a makeshift workstation, a jumble of curved monitors and serpentine cables that connected directly to the transmutation circle in the center of the room. The air carried a faint scent of ozone, a remnant of recent tests with the force field integrated into the new project.
Baymax lay inert on an elevated platform, his white, rounded body deflated like a deflated beach ball, awaiting the breath of digital life. Erick adjusted the final protocols in the source code, his fingers dancing across the holographic keyboard with the precision of a surgeon. The four AIs—Natasha, Doc, Engineer, and Sensei—hovered like holograms around him, each represented by minimalist avatars: Natasha as an elegant silhouette of pulsating red lines, Doc as a stylized stethoscope slowly rotating, Engineer as intertwined gears in shades of metallic gray, and Sensei as an ethereal katana floating in the air.
"Erick, I've confirmed the integration of the behavioral analysis module," said Natasha, her voice soft and modulated like a vintage radio broadcast. "It can now detect subtle variations in vocal patterns and facial expressions to identify emotional stress. This perfectly complements the physical protection protocols, making it a holistic guardian. No external access, of course—only inputs via memory card. Secure as a fortress."
Doc intervened, his projection flashing in a simulated heartbeat rhythm. "I've included over 5,000 updated medical protocols, from emergency diagnoses to basic psychological therapies. Baymax can stabilize serious injuries in minutes, using internal compression and nanogel injections that you transmuted. He will prioritize family above all else: any detected threat triggers an immediate response. Lethal, if necessary. There's no room for hesitation when lives are at stake."
The engineer turned his virtual gears, emitting a satisfying mechanical sound. "Structurally, it's flawless. The vinyl exoskeleton reinforced with transmuted fibers withstands impacts of up to 10 tons. And the force field—copied from his repulsor shield—creates an invisible outer barrier that repels bullets, blades, and even moderate explosions. It activates automatically upon detecting hostility, expanding like a protective bubble. The short legs provide low stability, ideal for blocking, while the long arms allow for wide reaches for disarms or containment."
Sensei, always concise, floated closer. "I adapted the defensive movements to his unique morphology. Short legs for balance on uneven terrain, long arms for wide sweeps and quick counterattacks. It's not an elegant fight, but it's efficient. Any armed aggressor against the family? Immediate, effective response. Can neutralize—or eliminate—threats before they even blink."
Erick nodded, his blue eyes fixed on the screen as he compiled the final code. "Perfect. This closes the gaps. Baymax isn't just a robot; he's an extension of my will to protect what's mine. No loopholes for hacks, no external dependencies. He's autonomous enough to be kind to his family, but a nightmare for anyone who threatens them." He paused, feeling the subtle warmth of the fire elemental in his veins, a constant reminder of his own evolution. "Let's test the simulation one last time."
The holograms synchronized, running a virtual scenario: a hostile figure pointing a weapon at a silhouette representing Sara. Baymax activated instantly—force field erected, arms extended in an adapted sweep that disarmed the aggressor with brutal precision, followed by a restraint that could escalate to lethal if the threat persisted. Natasha adjusted the personality: "I added layers of empathy for family interactions. He will be calm, comforting, like a living teddy bear. But only for them."
Satisfied, Erick ejected the memory card—a compact rectangle of transmuted circuits, glowing faintly with arcane security runes. "Ready. Time to wake him up." He stood, stretching the dense muscles of his shoulders, feeling the accumulated fatigue from the time-dilation nights with Sensei. The basement, with its shelves crammed with half-built prototypes and scattered tools, looked more like the laboratory of a forging god than an underground hideout.
Climbing the creaking steps that led to the main level of the mansion, Erick carried the card like a treasure. Baymax was positioned in a discreet alcove near the stairs, his deflated body carefully folded. Erick pressed the start-up button on the robot's chest, inserting the card into the sealed slot. A soft hiss filled the air as the vinyl expanded, inflating to its full form: a giant, rounded white being with black eyes that blinked to life, emitting a soft, welcoming glow.
"Hello," said Baymax, his voice deep but gentle, like an amplified whisper. "I'm Baymax, your personal health, safety, and family protection robot. How can I help you today?"
Erick smiled for the first time that day, a sharp smile that mixed pride and relief. "Great. Working as expected. Let's introduce him to his new family." He gestured for Baymax to follow him, and the robot moved with surprising grace, his steps cushioned to avoid any unnecessary noise.
Upstairs, the mansion's dining room echoed with the clinking of silverware and light conversation. The Smith family—now settled in luxury that still seemed surreal—was gathered around a solid oak table, illuminated by crystal chandeliers that Erick had transformed from ordinary glass. His parents, with striking indigenous features mixed with urban life, seemed more relaxed than ever: the father, his worry lines softened, served generous portions of adapted feijoada; the mother, with a genuine smile, chatted animatedly with Sara, the 12-year-old sister whose brown eyes shone with constant curiosity.
Erick entered the room, the comforting smell of home-cooked food contrasting with the technical air of the basement. "Hey, family. I have a surprise for you."
Sara dropped her fork immediately, turning around excitedly. "Surprise? Is it for me? Like, a new gadget or something that flies? Please tell me it's something that flies!"
The parents laughed, but raised their eyebrows in curiosity. Erick gestured toward the hallway. "Baymax, come in."
The robot advanced slowly, its inflated form filling the doorway like a friendly cloud. "Hello," Baymax repeated, tilting his head slightly. "I am Baymax, designed to care and protect."
The family froze for a second, then burst into reactions. Sara screamed with delight, jumping out of her chair. "It's a giant robot! Like a living marshmallow! Can I touch it?"
Erick laughed, raising his hand to calm them. "Calm down. This is Baymax, my newest project. He's a personal guardian—physical and emotional protection. Strong enough to handle any threat, with advanced medical protocols for emergencies. He can diagnose health problems, offer emotional support, and neutralize dangers decisively." He avoided gory details, but his tone implied lethality. "The first one's for you, Sara. He follows you, protects you, keeps you company."
Sara approached, touching Baymax's soft arm. "Hi, Baymax! I'm Sara. You're cute!"
"Hello, Sara," Baymax replied, his voice adjusting to an even softer tone. "I'm here to ensure your safety and well-being. On a scale of 1 to 10, what is your current pain level?"
Sara laughed. "Zero! But can I climb on your back?"
The parents exchanged worried glances. The father cleared his throat. "Erick, this is incredible, but... how are we going to walk him down the street? He attracts attention like a giant party balloon."
The mother nodded. "Exactly. It seems lovely, but impractical for everyday life."
Erick grinned slyly. "Baymax, activate Camouflage mode."
With a low hum, Baymax's body contracted and reformed. The white vinyl retracted, revealing an integrated holographic illusion: now, he looked like a fat man in an impeccable black suit, bald with a round, friendly face, and innocently blinking, welcoming eyes. The appearance was cuddly, almost comical, like a good-natured uncle in a family movie—but underneath, the force field and defensive mechanisms remained in place.
"Camouflage mode activated," Baymax announced, his voice now deep and protective, yet still gentle. "Ready for discreet escort."
The family gasped. Sara applauded. "Wow! Now he looks like a movie bodyguard!"
Erick explained calmly. "In normal mode, he's the guardian at home. In camouflage mode, he can go anywhere without attracting attention. He has a direct link to me—he alerts me to any problems in real time. And he's failsafe: no external connections, impossible to hack. The only way to turn him off is with a password that only I know. He protects you at all costs—and I mean all costs." His eyes hardened for a moment, recalling the graffiti and stones of the past. "Sara gets the first one. Soon, I'll make two more for you, parents. And smaller drones to patrol the house—cleaning, surveillance, all integrated."
The father stood up, shaking Erick's hand with restrained emotion. "Son... this is more than we imagined. Thank you. For the mansion, for the security... for everything."
The mother blinked back tears, hugging him briefly. "You saved us, Erick. Really."
Sara, already impatient, grabbed Baymax's "hand" in camouflage mode. "Come on, Baymax! Let's go to my room. I want to show you my drawings and see what you know about stars!" She dragged him upstairs, completely forgetting about dinner, laughing as the robot followed her with measured steps.
Erick watched the scene, feeling a rare warmth in his chest—not from the elemental, but from something more human. The family was safe, finally. But this was only the beginning. With the patent money flowing in and the Artemis Protocol advancing, his path to absolute power gained another unshakeable pillar. The DC universe was still a lethal chaos, but now, at least at home, he had forged an impenetrable barrier.
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