Project Ultron

Three.exe

I barely slept that night. I spent hours thinking over the proposal of the project. I had only seen a short document with the objective and some rough sketches of suits and programs. There were more documents, but I hadn't had the time to check them out. It seemed like Stark had been brainstorming a lot about it but hadn't really started to do anything more. I wondered again and again why he wanted me to join in. I was clearly the opposite of the right candidate for this enterprise. He needed someone with a good heart and a lot of motivation. I was an up and coming criminal that struggled with finding the will to get up and go to the bathroom.

I didn't say a word to Leslie about the interview or the project. When I arrived home, it was way too late, and she was already asleep. I had taken some food to my room and gone to bed. I hadn't even had the time to revel in the feeling of my long missed room. The hardware pieces I had scavenged over the years were still there as if Leslie hadn't even dared to venture inside. But I didn't make sure they were actually untouched, I went to bed directly.

I woke up way before her too, got dressed and had breakfast. I walked to the tower since I still didn't have a functioning underground card yet, and got there at 9 am sharp. I had gotten lost a couple of times on my way there; I hadn't seen New York in months, and I wasn't used to the nice part of Manhattan. I was very disoriented.

Only a couple of employees were roaming around, but the receptionist that spoke with me the day before was there. She clearly recognized me. I was going to go directly to the lab, ignoring her, but she called me.

"Miss Atwood," she said.

I stopped and sighed before approaching her desk.

"Yeah?"

To my surprise, she gave me an employee card with my name and picture on it. I had no idea where they'd gotten the picture from, but I was glad it wasn't the one that had been used for my criminal record.

"Thanks," I said, grabbing the card and caressing it carefully. It hadn't hit me until that moment that this was actually happening. That it was real, official. I had a job at Stark's Industries. It was surreal, but there I was, with my own employee card.

"You're welcome," she said with a genuine smile, which freaked me out a little, and she pointed me towards the elevator.

I waited in front of it, tapping my foot and looking everywhere. I clutched the laminated card, thinking about what it meant. With a job came commitment and responsibilities, people would expect things from me. I had to stop myself from breaking the card and running away.

The elevator stopped in front of me and out went Harold Hogan.

"Oh, Miss Atwood," he greeted me.

"Hi," I said, getting more nervous about my new situation. "Do you know where Stark is?"

Hogan looked at me as if I had slaughtered an entire city and hadn't broken a sweat. I froze. Had I fucked up somehow already? Did my aspect offend him or had he just remembered his oven was on?

"Mister Stark," he said.

"Yes," I trailed off. That was who I was looking for, why did that surprise him?

"It's Mister Stark, not Stark," he corrected me.

Mister... Such a word felt bizarre and unnecessary. I didn't like that. Why did the fact that he was my boss now meant that I had to treat him with especial etiquette? It was the same with the guards at juvie. They had titles, and those titles implied I had to be respectful to them. Why? Why did I have to give my respect so willingly to anyone who thought they deserved it?