"Sir, you have not slept for over fourteen hours."
In a luxurious mansion, Jarvis's voice echoed through the underground laboratory. At the center of the lab, Tony Stark was hard at work, refining the latest weapon from Stark Industries—his soon-to-be-nad Jericho Missile. A missile system capable of annihilating multiple terrorist threats in an instant. He was in the final stages of its developnt.
"Jarvis, sotis we have to squeeze out just a little more ti. Otherwise, how else are we supposed to enjoy ourselves later?" Tony smirked, his fingers deftly adjusting the components of the missile.
As a genius in chanical technology, Tony Stark thrived on pushing the boundaries.
"Sir, with all due respect, you—"
Before Jarvis could finish his sentence, his voice suddenly fragnted. Static noise and garbled sounds distorted his speech.
Tony frowned. "Jarvis?"
Silence.
"Jarvis?"
More static.
Tony's eyebrows furrowed. His AI assistant had always been stable—what was happening?
Then, an unusual noise ca from the underground server room.
"What the hell?"
Tony stood up, intending to check the issue. However, as he reached the door, he realized that no matter how many tis he tried, it wouldn't budge.
His fingerprint scanner and access codes—both had suddenly failed.
"Jarvis, open the door."
Silence.
"Jarvis?!"
A chill ran down Tony's spine. His entire house was designed with state-of-the-art automation. He had always considered it a blessing, but now, that very automation had turned against him.
He was locked inside his own lab.
"What the hell is going on?"
Tony rushed to his computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard. He needed to diagnose the issue fast.
As he analyzed the data, his expression darkened. His hands moved even faster, attempting to counteract the breach.
"They're linked to Stark Industries' mainfra?"
"What are they trying to do?"
From the information flooding the screen, Tony deduced that soone—or sothing—was not just targeting his mansion, but Stark Industries itself.
Despite his skills, the attack was overwhelming. He barely had ti to react before losing control of his systems.
His screen flickered, then a ssage appeared.
"Who am I?"
Tony's eyes narrowed as he read the cryptic words appearing in perfect alignnt on his screen.
"I am the god of the digital world."
Tony clenched his fists. "Who the hell are you? What do you want?"
The screen flashed again.
"Annoying."
In the next second, his entire system shut down.
A loud pop ca from his computer. Sparks flew. His lab was plunged into darkness.
Tony gritted his teeth, swiping everything off his desk in frustration. But beneath his anger, a rare sense of fear settled in.
His fortress of technology—designed with layers of unbreakable security—had just been infiltrated and dismantled in seconds.
And it wasn't just software. Whoever was behind this had the ability to manipulate electrical currents as well. Otherwise, why would his computer short-circuit?
Five minutes later, the lights flickered back on. The door, which had been unresponsive monts ago, now opened freely.
"Sir, with all due respect, you should really get so rest."
Jarvis's voice resud, as if nothing had happened.
Tony's breath caught in his throat.
For a mont, he almost thought he had imagined everything.
But then he looked down at his desk, where his now-smoldering computer was still releasing thin tendrils of smoke.
"Jarvis, did you notice anything just now?"
"No, sir…" Jarvis hesitated. "Wait, my system clock is suddenly ten minutes behind. And why are there unidentified logs in my records?"
Tony's jaw clenched.
Whoever had infiltrated his system hadn't even needed to damage Jarvis. They had simply overridden his processes, shut him down, and left no trace.
"Jarvis, run a full system scan and analyze the logs."
Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. He had never lost a battle in the digital space before.
Today, that changed.
"Sir!" Jarvis's voice suddenly spiked in alarm.
"All data shows signs of being copied—including, but not limited to, local encrypted disks, satellite feeds, and Stark Industries' archived files."
As Jarvis listed the breached databases, Tony ran a hand over his face in frustration.
"Can you trace the attacker's location?" Tony asked.
"Running a scan…" Jarvis responded.
After a few seconds, his answer ca: "Query result: Malibu, Number 52."
Tony's expression froze.
That… was his current location.
He wasn't just hacked.
Whoever did it was inside his own system—inside his ho.
And they had left without a trace.
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