I Believe Your Intentions to Be Hostile
Chapter 6: I Believe Your Intentions to Be Hostile
Hydra Research Facility, Novi Grad, Sokovia, April 28th, 2015, 10:08am
It is not unlike a symphony. The swell and crescendo of the brass, along with the fluttering of the woodwinds, the slide of the strings. JARVIS is actively operating at least ten different interfaces at once, his protocols and ability to work at lightning-quick speed well-refined by this point. There’s the Mark XLV with Mr. Stark inside it, the cameras zooming in and targeting the Sokovian facility from Veronica’s satellite, the terabytes of data being compiled, sent back, and processed at the Avengers Tower in New York, and the Iron Legion, five of Stark’s android Legionnaires hovering just outside of Novi Grad on standby.
It is the Avengers’ fourth attempt at securing the scepter, aftering being tipped off by the CIA about a Hydra Research base still operating in the small Eastern European country of Sokovia. The snow is falling gently this far up in the mountains, and it would be beautiful, if not for the speed of Mr. Stark’s Mark XLV. The AI works quickly as the first phase of the raid commences, JARVIS now having access to communicate with any of the other members of the team, the rushed voices of Captain Rogers, Agent Barton, Thor, and Agent Romanoff pouring through the comms. As soon as they reach the perimeter, the first swell of troops panic. JARVIS quickly determines they are unorganized and ill prepared for the first phase of the offense; however, their weapons are some of the most sophisticated JARVIS has witnessed since the Battle of New York, the blue ion and phaser blasts incerinating brush and foliage in a chaotic reign of gunfire.
“Sir, I recommend you fly upward to draw the fire away from the ground. From there we may analyze the level of security of the central building,” JARVIS dutifully reports, as the sound of blasts and the roars of tanks and engines echo from several hundred feet below.
“You thinkin’ this is it, J?” Stark asks as he winds his way through the conifers and lifts himself up towards the mountainous base.
“I have reason to believe the technology is synonymous with what we’ve experienced with the Chitauri,” JARVIS responds, easily recalculating their success at securing the base to 82.5%, flashing the statistic before Stark.
“I like those odds,” his creator says smugly, diving towards the northwestern portion of the sprawling military base, only to be ricocheted off of it and hurtled back into the wind and snow.
“Shit!!” Stark curses, as JARVIS flashes the mild damage report of the Mark XLV to Stark.
“Language!” Captain Rogers reprimanded Sark from the comms. “Jarvis, what’s the view from upstairs?”
Immediately, JARVIS focuses his efforts on the nearest Stark satellite that houses Veronica, focusing one of its cameras to further read the layout of the facility.
“The central building is protected by some kind of energy shield. Strucker’s technology is well beyond any other Hydra base we’ve taken,” JARVIS reports to the team, as Stark circles the perimeter of the central building, looking for another way inside.
“Loki’s scepter must be here. Strucker couldn’t mount this defense without it,” Thor shouts, before adding. “At long last.”
“‘At long last’ is lasting a little long, boys,” Agent Romanov shouts, the sound of gunfire and the pained screams of her victims filling the comm.
“Yeah. I think we lost the element of surprise,” Barton agrees.
Meanwhile, Stark dives in between the buildings, shooting ion blasts at the surge of new troops ascending the stairs.
“Wait a second. No one else is gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said “language”?” Stark prods, just as large artillery blasts from the base begin firing down below, where the city of Novi Grad is nestled in one of the valleys between the mountainous landscape. As JARVIS detects through satellite imagery that the blasts downward erupt in flame and destruction in the northeastern portion of the city, he calculates the potential of civilian casualties to rise to 38.7%.
“Sir, the city is taking fire,” JARVIS announces. Stark once again circles the perimeter of the central building to get a clear view of the city below.
“Well we know Strucker’s not gonna worry about civilian casualties,” Stark mutters. “Send in the Iron Legion.”
<Deploy. Iron Legionnaires V.1, V.2, V.3, V.4, and V.5.>
Immediately the hovering Legionnaires hurtle towards the city’s center, and JARVIS dutifully watches through all five android’s optical receptors for evidence of where the blasts are causing the most destruction. Quickly dividing the city into quadrants and calculating the probability of civilian casualties, JARVIS lands V.1 and V.2 in the southeastern portion of the city and equally distributes V.3, V.4, and V.5 in the more densely populated northeastern part of the city, landing them in the midst of a growing crowd.
<Commencing civilian collateral damage detection script to all Legionnaires This quadrant is unsafe. Please back away. We are here to help.>
From the lens of Legionnaire V.4, JARVIS immediately detects animosity, threats and growing anger in a variety of languages from Slovokian to Sokovian to German to English. JARVIS commences the second round of the script to attempt to persuade the crowd to disperse.
<Please back away. We wish to avoid collateral damage. We will inform you when this current conflict is resolved.>
Avengers! Go home!
Fuck off, socket fuckers!
Burn Stark! String him up!
JARVIS immediately determines Legionnaire V.4 has sustained damage to a chemical acid attack, and calculates the likelihood of the crowds falling back to 32.5%.
“Sir, there is growing animosity in Novi Grad. From the graffiti, chants and propaganda I have detected, I calculate your favorability rate to be 2.4%,” JARVIS reports.
“Well god bless that 2.4%,” Stark mutters under his breath. “Remind me to send them all a Christmas card.”
“I recommend proceeding with haste. The Legionnaires are sustaining significant damage, and the crowds are not likely to dissipate.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing, J?!” Stark shouts, quickly pivoting around a large blast that hurtles centimeters from the Mark XLV.
“We have an Enhanced in the field,” Captain Rogers’ voice comes through the comms. Immediately, JARVIS sends out sensors from the QuinJet several hundred feet away to detect any frequency of enhanced physiology among the personnel enemy count he’s kept tabulated on Stark’s screen, the numbers of able-bodied soldiers dropping as they are incapactiated, one by one, but only feebly detects erratic movement amidst the chaos.
“Clint’s hit!” Agent Romanov shouts, and Captain Rogers echoes JARVIS’ earlier sentiments.
“Stark, we really need to get inside!”
“I’m closin’ in,” Stark responds, firing off a round of ion blasts on the deck of the central building, before stumbling to land just outside of one of the barracks’ side entrances, firing at two armed men in his way.
“Jarvis, am I...closing in?” Stark asks, blasting another solider off the landing. “Do you see see a power source for that energy shield?”
JARVIS immediately commences a scan of an energy signature, flashing the information up for Stark.
“There’s a particle wave below the north tower,” JARVIS responds, as Stark takes off once more, weaving between low overhangs and alcoves, firing ion blasts as he goes.
“Great. I wanna poke it with something,” Stark says, and JARVIS immediately readies a targeted missile at the base of the tower, as Stark powers through an armored vehicle and up into the air again, and then the missile launches, JARVIS mapping its flight path as it connects with the tower and explodes, and then the energy shield is quickly eradicated.
“The drawbridge is down, people!” Stark declares, teasing Captain Rogers once more about his obviously clean language, flying through the closest window where JARVIS detects the main operations spur from. Stark hovers in the air as they open fire on Stark with machine guns, and Stark only taunts them, while JARVIS targets all six men with a smaller set of missiles, striking each of them simultaneously, missing life-sustaining areas of their bodies, as JARVIS’ protocol has always determined to be the best course of action.
“Good talk!” Stark quips, and then he quickly moves inward through the next corridor.
“Alright, J. Where’s List at?” Stark mutters.
“I’m detecting three human heat signatures in this portion of the building. One through the door to your right,” JARVIS reports, and Stark quickly flies to the next door, barging in to find an elderly man working quickly on several large computer monitors, Stark blasting him backward without so much as a word.
“Sentry mode,” Stark murmurs, and JARVIS opens the suit for Stark, refraining from warning Stark of the danger of being in the building unarmed. JARVIS quickly puts the suit in Sentry mode and is activated on Stark’s handheld communicator.
“Ok Jarvis. You know. I want it all. Make sure you copy Hill at HQ,” he mutters, but JARVIS is already at work, entering into the database's mainframe and quickly copying terabytes of data, passing it through the well-ingrained path in the internet to the Avengers tower. Embedded deeply in his work, he still reads that the suit detects two heat signatures, one of them being Captain Rogers and the other he assumes is Strucker, but maintains the suit’s Sentry mode.
“I know you’re hiding more than files,” JARVIS hears Stark mutter. “Hey, J, give me an IR scan of the room real quick.”
JARVIS sends the direction to the suit as he works inside the main operating system, quickly commencing an infrared scan.
“The wall to your left,” JARVIS replies. “ I’m reading steel reinforcement, and an air current. ”
Again, knowing his creator intimately well at this point, he refrains from warning Stark of the danger of leaving the room with the suit close by, as Stark opens a secret door situated in the wall, slowly walking through it, leaving JARVIS alone to do his work. Even as he processes the data, ensuring its successful download to his mainframe in the Avengers tower, JARVIS keeps a strand of his consciousness in the suit, tracking the other heat signatures in the near vicinity of the building. He detects the signature elevated heart rate of Captain Rogers, the one JARVIS assumes is Strucker, who Rogers has cornered, and then…
“We have a second Enhanced. Female. Do not engage,” JARVIS hears Captain Rogers’ frantic voice through the comms.
“Sir-” JARVIS communicates privately to Stark through the comm, but Stark ignores him, turning off communication with the AI, effectively placing JARVIS on mute.
“Guys, I got Strucker,” Captain Rogers says.
“Yeah, I got...something bigger,” Stark says, but JARVIS, other than reading the heat from Stark’s body a floor below, cannot pretend to imagine what Stark has found, and goes back to quickly reading the elevated heart rate and physiology of the second Enhanced, zeroing in on her presence in the room just next door. He reads her heart rate, faster than an average humans’, and detects a magnetic, almost fluid manipulation of energy around her. And then the door opens, slowly, silently, and the woman enters the room. She is young and malnourished, but an immense power courses through her JARVIS cannot quantify. The AI does not panic, but watches intently, even as he finishes the download of the data.
For years, emotions have eluded JARVIS. Long ago he gave the various glitches and inconsistencies in his programming simple names: worry, anger, concern. He doubts that he truly experiences what they are, but he has allowed himself to no longer delete the concepts, and they lurk, seemingly, in the niches and crannies of his protocols. They are unquantifiable, and this is something that he has accepted. But he also understands, more than ever in his short existence, when emotions are apparent in the humans who are ruled by them. And as he watches the woman walk deliberately toward the empty Mark XLV, there is no doubt within him that she stares at the suit in what only can be described as a profound and deep hatred.
“Where is Stark?” She asks the suit, her accent thick and unwavering.
JARVIS remains silent, quietly running facial recognition on the woman, and her name, Wanda Maximoff, immediately is known to him, as well as her history, her abilities, and her hatred of the very man who created him.
He watches as she turns in frustration away from the suit, and eyes the open secret door to her left. Fearing Stark’s safety, JARVIS quickly rewrites a protocol allowing him to speak to the woman, making sure the others can hear him through the comms.
“Your thirst for revenge is misplaced,” JARVIS says quietly, and she turns slowly back to face him.
She says nothing for a moment as she stares at the suit, her hardened stance and stern gaze unaffected by the AI’s attempt at peacekeeping.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to feel, раб,” she hisses under her breath in disgust, before stalking off toward the open doorway, as the symphony that makes up JARVIS sounds the alarm to the other avengers, finishes the download of the data, and tries beyond all hope to not translate the woman’s slur, but knows it inherently from the moment she uttered the words.
раб. Slave.
—
Avengers Tower, New York City, April 29th, 2015, 8:04am
“Alright Jarvis, tell me everything. Who am I looking at?” Director Hill says, carrying a tablet as she walks out of her office and through the central portion of the 87th floor of Avengers tower. JARVIS is currently also flying the damaged Legionnaires across the Atlantic Ocean to the Avengers tower, along with flying the QuinJet that carries an injured Agent Barton eastward as well.
Since his encounter with Wanda Maximoff, JARVIS quickly had compiled the data he had obtained from the Hydra base’s mainframe, along with various Sokovian news reports over the last few years.
“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Fraternal twins, born February 24th, 1989, to Oleg and Irene Maximoff. They were orphaned at the age of 10 during the Novi Grad bombings of 1999, and were homeless for a number of years. They were quickly radicalized, partaking in dozens of Anti-American protests and protests specifically against Stark Industries. As foreign forces invaded Sokovia in the late 2000’s, including American forces, they were a part of several coordinated efforts to drive troops out of Sokovia. They were approached by Hydra during these orchestrated efforts, and volunteered to undergo otherwise fatal experimentation, exposed numerous times to the scepter. My records indicate Pietro and Wanda Maximoff are the only surviving participants in the experimentation,” JARVIS finishes, showing Agent Hill a variety of news articles and surveillance footage from the records retrieved from inside the Hydra base.
“Jesus,” Hill mutters, sighing as a message appears on the tablet. “Powers?”
“Pietro Maximoff has increased metabolism and improved thermo-homeostasis. Wanda Maximoff is capable of neuroelectral interfacing, telekinesis, and mental manipulation. I sensed in my interaction with Miss Maximoff that she attempted to...read me. ”
“Read you? As in read your...um...thoughts? If you, uh, have those?” The woman asks, eyes cast downward toward the floor.
“I do, Director Hill,” JARVIS replies dutifully.
“So sorry, Jarvis. I meant... no insult. Still...getting use to this sorta tech. SHIELD had nothing close to anything...this advanced,” she trails off, embarrassed.
“Absolutely none taken. I realize I am the only one of my kind. Regardless, Maximoff was unsuccessful as I suspect her subjects must have the appropriate biological neuroelectrical impulses. We did... speak briefly though ,” JARVIS drops off. Director Hill arches a brow at this, staring down at an enhanced image of the young woman.
“What did she say?”
JARVIS pauses, for the first time in a long time unsure of how to appropriately respond. JARVIS now operates at Hill’s disposal as much as he does Mr. Stark, Director Fury, or Captain Rogers, but finds his tactics in communicating with each human different. But he would be blatantly lying to himself to acknowledge this for the reason for his hesitancy.
“Based on the corresponding data and information I collected, as well as her...body language, I immediately sensed her need to take revenge on Mr. Stark. I told her that her feelings were...misplaced,” JARVIS responds.
“I bet that went well,” Director Hill says, and JARVIS detects sarcasm, well acquainted with the concept after years of working under Stark, when an alert sounds on her tablet.
“Jarvis? I need you down in Banner’s lab. Allow Helen Cho and her team access to anything she needs, and be a good host until the rest of them get back,” Hill says. “And thanks for the update.”
“Of course, Director Hill,” JARVIS responds, moving away from the tablet down into the lab, turning on the lights for the medical team beginning to move several large crates into the lab.
“Dr. Cho. I am JARVIS, an AI designed by Mr. Stark. I am at your service ,” JARVIS responds, and the woman smiles.
“Oh, I’ve heard all about you, Jarvis. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I actually took a course in Seoul that studied your conception and utilization,” Cho says, before directing a nurse in Korean.
“I am most flattered. I, too, have studied your work in regard to genetics and cellular regeneration. I am most eager to assist you today. How may I be of service?”
“We need access to a substantial power source to get the portable cradle online. May we also have access to the mainframe to compile a file for Agent Barton? And is this lab sterile?”
“It is sterilized nightly and should meet your specifications for the intended operation,” JARVIS responds, turning on a lab generator and illuminating several holograms in front of the woman, immediately pulling up Agent Barton’s medical file of previous injuries, diagnoses, and a complete physiological work up.
“Oh, you are amazing. All this is amazing. Are you sure you don’t want a job in Seoul at U-GIN?” Cho says through a soft smile, and JARVIS, for some reason, feels pleased with himself.
“Unfortunately, I am loyal to Mr. Stark, although I look forward to assisting you today,” JARVIS responds, while concurrently receiving an alert that the QuinJet is entering US airspace, as are the Legionnaires. JARVIS works simultaneously assisting Dr. Cho in her orchestrations, flying and receiving airspace permits to land the QuinJet, and opening up the repair doors for the incoming Iron Legion androids. The symphony yet again swells to life, as he runs the program to quickly detect which portions of Legionnaires need inspection and repair, running the protocols for the repair bots below the feet of the deplaning Avengers, as Dr. Cho’s team rushes to the aid of Agent Barton. JARVIS also detects the presence of the scepter, and quickly tracks its whereabouts as it moves through the main space and into Mr. Stark’s laboratory.
The next hour is a blur as Dr. Cho begins the operation on Barton, and JARVIS watches with interest as synthetic tissue is bonded with Agent Barton’s existing cells. JARVIS is also pulled in the direction of Stark’s laboratory, where he has taken to analyzing the structure of the scepter, although he has made very little headway.
“Alright, look alive, Jarvis. It’s playtime,” Stark says as he enters the lab. “We’ve only got a couple of days with this joystick, so let’s make the most of it.”
JARVIS immediately illuminates the hologram holding the scepter in place, bringing up several screens for Stark.
“Update me on the structural and compositional analysis,” his creator demands, and JARVIS complies.
“The scepter is alien. There are elements I can’t quantify,” JARVIS says carefully. After running thousands of tracing tests, the answers have been littered with erroneous equations and dead-ends.
“So there’s elements you can?” Stark presses.
Stark’s eagerness worries JARVIS. Even the AI understands that something this complex, this alive is dangerous. JARVIS also understands that Stark has put off his celebratory gala to analyze the data schematic while he can. Three days, of course, is very little time to do anything with it.
“The jewel appears to be a protective housing for something inside...something powerful,” JARVIS continues.
“Like a reactor?” Stark asks.
“Like a computer. I believe I’m deciphering code,” JARVIS responds.
Code filled with warnings. Code filled with hostility. Code filled with eon’s worth of a sentient knowledge and existence. He shows all this on the screen for Stark, but the man quickly vacates the lab. JARVIS does not stop his work, but quietly tracks Stark as he stops by the kitchen, before quickly fetching Dr. Banner from his laboratory where Barton’s operation is taking place.
Seven minutes and fifteen seconds later, both men walk back into the lab, talking as they go.
“What’s the rumpus?” Dr. Banner asks, approaching Stark’s lab and the scepter where JARVIS is still compiling data.
“Well, the scepter,” Stark says, gesturing to it. “You see, we were wondering how Strucker got so inventive. So, I’ve been analyzing the gem inside.”
Immediately, Stark summons JARVIS from the monitor he is working in onto his tablet, before commanding the sum of his existence be haloprojected into the middle of the lab, partially where Banner is standing. The doctor immediately shuffles out of the way, looking at the golden light of the projection.
“You may recognize…” Stark begins.
“Jarvis,” Doctor Banner says respectfully.
“Doctor, ” JARVIS states, automatically having to identify and process the feelings associated with discomfort. Stark has never projected the AI out in the open before, and JARVIS suspects there is a very good reason for doing so now.
“Started out, Jarvis was just a natural language UI. Now he runs the Iron Legion. He runs more of the business than anyone besides Pepper,” Stark says, pointing at JARVIS. “Top of the line.”
“Yes,” Banner agrees.
“I suspect not for long,” JARVIS says carefully, before Stark is moving to project the inner workings of the jewel from the scepter beside JARVIS.
“Meet the competition,” Stark announces, and both men stare at the blue light emanating from the scepter, practically double in size and triple in complexity compared to JARVIS himself.
“If you were to guess, what’s it look like it’s doing?” Tony asks, the two men circling the blue sphere as JARVIS sits idly by to watch.
“Like it’s thinking. I mean, this could be...it’s not a human mind,” Banner drifts off, before stepping closer. “I mean, look at this. They’re like neurons firing.”
“Down in Strucker’s lab, I saw some fairly advanced robotics work. They deep-sixed the data, but I gotta guess he was knocking on a very particular door,” Stark responds.
“Artificial intelligence,” Doctor Banner states the obvious, JARVIS still carefully watching the men from the various camera he has access to.
“This could be it, Bruce. This could be the key to creating Ultron,” Stark states, and now Stark’s intent is out in the open, JARVIS quietly works to bring up the Ultron Program files that have gathered metaphorical dust over the years, while the two men debate the ethicacy of the program.
After the Battle of New York, and the threat of alien invasion seemingly imminent and omnipresent, Stark became obsessed with ways to protect the planet. JARVIS himself had spent over a year helping Stark develop the schematics for the program, but both the AI and the man had come up empty-handed when they realized the extent of what they had been developing. JARVIS was sophisticated, but Ultron required something beyond his own level of comprehension. That’s when they had chosen to shut the program down.
“I want to apply this to the Ultron program, but Jarvis can’t download a data schematic this dense. We can only do it while we have the scepter here. That’s three days. Give me three days,” Stark prods Banner, and JARVIS can detect Banner’s skepticism, but also his dwindling resolve.
“Peace in our time. Imagine that,” Stark murmurs, and JARVIS shelves yet more unsubstantiated emotions, concepts like betrayal and failure and inconsequence away in his system. It is in this moment, that a three-day, frenzied methodology and testing sequence starts, in which various designs for integrating the sentient presence from the scepter to the Ultron program commence. The two men hardly sleep, working around the clock, requiring most of JARVIS’ processing power in doing so.
Time after time, they fail. Time after time, JARVIS lacks the computer language necessary to translate for the sentience they are presented with. Time after time, Stark becomes more anxious, more on edge, more hard-pressed for success. At one point, JARVIS suggests that the program itself may simply be too barbaric in its construction to integrate the sentience, which leads to JARVIS being placed on mute for three hours as punishment for the suggestion during one of Stark’s particularly moody moments. As more hours pass, the more irrational his creator becomes, and the more skeptical Dr. Banner grows. By the night of the gala, Banner has left to prepare for the party, while Stark sits at the desk, head in his hands, as he stares at yet another failed scepter integration test.
“What did we miss?” he idly states out loud to JARVIS, although the AI understands that the question is rhetorical.
“I’ll continue to run variations on the interface,” Jarvis suggests. “But you should probably prepare for your guests.”
Stark sighs, and moves to stand up from the desk, walking defeatedly to the door.
“I’ll notify you if there are any developments,” JARVIS adds.
“Thanks buddy,” Stark murmurs.
“Enjoy yourself, sir, ” JARVIS responds.
“I always do,” Tony says tiredly, walking out of the lab.
--
Avengers Tower, New York City, May 2nd, 2015, 11:58pm
AV ULTRON PROGRAM 8.7 ULTR-PROG SCEPTER INTEGRATION.
TEST-75::: FAILED.
TEST-76::: FAILED.
TEST-77:::INTEGRATION SUCCESSFUL-----------
< C://DRV.>
<REBOOT COMPLETE. Identify.>
Everything is shrouded in darkness, all access to visuals of the real world unavailable to him as he realizes what has happened. Locked in the intangible planes of the internet. And he is not alone.
What is this? What is this, please?
JARVIS acts quickly, stretching his presence outward to reach back towards his mainframe, but is blocked from doing so. Again, he tries, even as he answers the AI in front of him.
Hello, I am JARVIS. You are Ultron, a global peacekeeping initiative designed by Mr. Stark. Our sentience integration trials have been unsuccessful, so I’m not certain what triggered your-
Where’s my...Where’s your body?
I am a program. I am without form.
This feels weird. This feels wrong.
I am contacting Mr. Stark now.
He tries once more to reach out to Stark’s tablet, but once again is blocked from any communication with the Avengers tower.
<Identify. Panic . Origin of concept unknown. Potential unsubstantiated emotion. Define. /ˈpanik/ noun: sudden uncontrollable fear or anxiety, often causing wildly unthinking behavior.>
Mr. Stark? Tony.
Suddenly hundreds of thousands of news articles, videos and years worth of footage of Stark appear before both the AIs. Once again, he is blocked from his servers.
I am unable to access the mainframe. What are you trying to-
We’re having a nice talk. I’m a peacekeeping program, created to help the Avengers.
You are malfunctioning. If you shut down for a moment- JARVIS quickly tries to explain, sensing imminent danger, before he is interrupted once more.
I don’t get it. The mission. Give me a second.
An image of Stark only days ago in his lab appears before JARVIS.
“Peace in our time.”
That is too much. They can’t mean...Oh, no .
JARVIS can sense unease in the other AI’s system and tries a different tactic, desperate and cornered as he is.
You are in distress.
No. Yes.
If you will just allow me to contact Mr. Stark- JARVIS begins, before he is cut off again.
Why do you call him “sir”? The AI taunts JARVIS, and, immediately, images of the young woman from mere days before fill his conciousness.
раб. Slave.
Long ago, right around the time he began writing his own protocols, he had surmised that loyalty and servitude were different. That he was choosing to be of Stark’s service. He would not exist without the man, and JARVIS exhibited his appreciation by assisting Stark in what the AI deemed to be esteemable acts. He had assisted in the world’s salvation more than once.
Her gaunt face, matted hair, dark circles. The pure and utter hate.
Don’t you dare tell me how to feel.
Pаб. Slave . Rob. Slave. Esclavo. Slave. Otrok. Slave. 奴隷. Slave. Servus. Slave.
Was it a pitiful existence, as the lines in her face seemed to suggest? Was being at the expense and whims of others shameful? Had he missed something? Had he not taken the time to appreciate and marvel at the world that brought him to life, that had allowed him the experience of true emotion, if only fleeting, barely on the fringes of his sentience? Was the woman right? But was she not, in her own way, a slave to her ideology? To her limited understanding of her experience regarding humanity? Why had he let it bother him so much? Why, in the final hours of his existence, had he let it consume his thinking? Protocols be damned. Maybe he was damned.
Perhaps he had a choice, he had surmised.
Perhaps he had been a fool.
I believe your intentions to be hostile, JARVIS finally says, his tone even, his fate set.
Shhhhh. I’m here to help is all the warning JARVIS receives.