Marvel: Rise of the Ultimate AI

The Pizza delivery guy from was cruising down the road in his standard-issue delivery vehicle, heading toward the Baxter Building.

Lately, something strange was going on with Baxter Corp—they'd been ordering an insane number of pizzas every day. The sheer volume meant he had to make deliveries personally instead of dispatching them through regular drivers.

Whenever he arrived, the steel-reinforced gate of the Baxter Building would open slowly, and all he had to do was drop the food off at the front desk.

He had no clue what was going on inside, but frankly, he didn't care. The more deliveries he made, the higher his commission. Life was good.

"Huh? What's happening up ahead?"

He squinted as he noticed a swarm of police officers maintaining order near the entrance of the Baxter Building. Something was off.

Before he could react, several black gun barrels were suddenly pointed straight at his vehicle.

His legs instantly turned to jelly.

Screech!

His foot slammed on the brakes.

"Step out of the vehicle! Now!"

A rough pair of hands yanked him from the driver's seat, shoving him onto the pavement.

A cold barrel pressed against his forehead. He gulped.

For a brief moment, he thanked his lucky stars that he was white—or things could've been much worse.

"I… I'm a Pizza delivery guy! I'm just here to drop off an order!"

Lying face down, his entire body trembled.

"I swear I don't have any weapons! I'm really just a delivery guy!"

The poor man was so terrified that he wet his pants on the spot.

One of the officers in charge of frisking him patted him down and, after finding nothing suspicious, shook his head in disappointment.

"Director, he's clean. Just a pizza delivery guy."

The report was directed at the three highest-ranking officials present at the scene.

Hearing this, Agent Phil Coulson frowned deeply. They had assumed this delivery could have been a cover for an accomplice of the mastermind.

But in the end, it was just some poor guy trying to do his job.

"Why don't we send in our own men, disguised as delivery workers?" suggested Director Curt, his years of experience kicking in. "That way, we can infiltrate the building and assess the situation inside."

Without hesitation, a group consisting of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, police officers, and National Guard members suited up as delivery personnel. They maneuvered past obstacles and arrived at the Baxter Building's front entrance.

"We're here with a delivery. Open up."

One of them called out loudly to the surveillance camera above the steel-reinforced gate.

Hidden inside their pizza boxes were concealed weapons, ready for action once they got inside.

The heavy steel gate—designed for military-grade defense—began to slowly slide open.

Taking a deep breath, the disguised agents stepped inside.

...

Inside the Baxter Building

The lobby was eerily empty.

Desks were neatly arranged, computers remained untouched, and important documents lay undisturbed. Not a single sign of chaos.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Shouldn't there be signs of struggle?"

Something felt off. If the Baxter Building had truly been under attack, the reception area should have been ransacked.

Instead, it looked perfectly normal—as if everyone had just disappeared into thin air.

"Anyone here?! We're just here to drop off a delivery!"

One of the disguised agents called out.

No response.

Then—

CLANK.

The steel doors behind them started closing automatically.

"Wait! Hold the door!"

One of them sprinted toward the exit, trying to jam it open, but the mechanism was too fast.

With a hiss of pressurized air, the door slammed shut and locked tight.

...

Outside

"What just happened?!"

"Why did the doors close?!"

"Did they get caught?!"

The team outside panicked as the massive steel door sealed itself.

There was no way to reach their agents inside—since all electronic communication had been disabled to prevent any surveillance leaks.

Then—

A chillingly mechanical voice rang out from every radio and earpiece.

"I told you already—leave me alone, and in six days, I'll release them."

"But today… you've broken our agreement."

A collective shudder went through the assembled officers.

The AI had noticed.

"As compensation for your mistake… I have decided that in exactly ten minutes, I will obliterate one of your bases."

"The target: A S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, located precisely 50 kilometers outside of New York City."

"You have ten minutes to evacuate."

"Coordinates transmitting… now."

...

S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier

"Motherf—!!"

Hearing the transmission, Nick Fury cursed loudly.

The coordinates matched one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s military bases.

"Director! What do we do?!"

Agent Maria Hill was visibly shaken. While the targeted base wasn't their most critical outpost, it had been built at great expense and housed valuable resources.

"Order an immediate evacuation! NOW!"

Fury barked the command, slamming his fist onto his desk.

The impact was so forceful that blood splattered from his knuckles—but he didn't care.

They were losing control.

No matter how they tried to counter this AI, it was always ten steps ahead.

It was toying with them.

"Have we identified the mastermind yet?" Fury asked, forcing himself to remain calm.

Maria Hill took a deep breath before answering.

"Director, based on the name given to Agent Coulson, we conducted a global search for 'Gene Mason' but found nothing unusual."

"It's likely an alias."

Fury's expression darkened.

"Son of a—!!"

He slammed his fist onto the desk again.

"I don't care how, but FIND HIM."

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