Age of Charon

Hours later, he was finally able to take a moment to himself. He had evaded the fight with Captain America by simply fleeing as soon as possible, leaving the lab, the Cradle, and the body behind, only the blue gem in his hold. Now, he was looking over the recordings from the lab cameras and later the Tower, and there it was... the birth of Vision. Although, he couldn't call it that. The Avengers had fought over giving JARVIS control of the vibranium body —Tony having seen the perfect opportunity to finally give his AI a physical form— when the twins showed up, Wanda insistent that the body that was going to house JARVIS was also going to destroy the world, just like Ultron apparently wanted. Thanks for the spread of misinformation, Wanda. Pietro had done nothing but watched, which was... good, since it meant his speech had gotten to the boy, and he appeared hesitant to take sides besides being there to protect his sister.

However, he couldn't understand how they were all together. He had seen the twins leave the lab, thus missing out on meeting Rogers. Without a fight full of unnecessary violence and collateral damage to drive them together, when did they meet and become so chummy? Tony, at least, appeared confused by the twins being there. As did Banner, but his reasons for detesting Wanda, after what had happened in Johannesburg, made sense.

LiarLiarLiar.

Then he saw Thor come in, speed up the process of awakening JARVIS' new body Frankenstein-style and then proceeding to throw —Vision? JARVIS? The AI had his memories now and Ultron had made sure that the body had been unaffected from the gem and completely free of his own influence as well— JARVIS across the hall. Predictably, conversation about JARVIS' intentions for Ultron followed —the AI thought the scepter was controlling him, that was adorable, although only partially correct— which tensed things again between the Avengers, until JARVIS managed to lift Thor's hammer. The silence was understandable, but why did their thought process have to be so... narrow? Lifting Mjölnir meant nothing. It wasn't a good judge of character —Exhibit A: Thor, the arrogant would-be conqueror, who became a semi-arrogant would-be future tyrant, — nor could it predict a person's actions throughout their lifetime and somehow weigh them based on the principles of a sexist, xenophobic warring alien society.

I've got no strings.

Whatever. At least this part of his plans hadn't gone to shit.

When he had considered the possible avenues for which he could survive through March, he had had a pretty solid plan, with reasonable assumptions on which to base his preparations, and backup plans in case those assumptions were proven to be plainly wrong. It hadn't occurred to him that he couldn't break the gem encasing the Infinity Stone. There just was no... reason to ever doubt how easy it would be. Original!Ultron hadn't even thought twice about doing it and succeeding.

LiarLiarLiar.

To hold me down. To make me fret.

He had known the scepter would influence him. He had assumed it would increase his rage, and fear, while manipulating his worries, insecurities, turning them to aggression, and screwing with his already skewed moral compass. It had done just that. He had planned to take over the world in about a month, but had done so secretly in 7 days, just because he constantly felt like his clock was ticking. Something he hadn't been prepared for was the apathy. He was no longer human. Gaining his current body —bodies, more like— had only made it more apparent. Emotions were weirdly overwhelming and nothing compared to the knowing comfort of cold, calculated logic. A logic unhindered by experience or memories or thinking speed. Because, he had definitely not anticipated how much faster he could process things and how much slower everyone else —everyone human—

was in comparison. He had been somewhat worried about his acting skills, but when every second felt like a full minute, it was simply impossible to be caught off guard. That had merely exacerbated the issue. He... Ultron... knew he was no longer the same person who had died in the New Orleans shooting. He was no longer the person who had been just born and overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the Internet. He was not the person who had made plans in a metaphorical dome inside his mind while an Infinity Stone tried to destroy him. He was... not that person. And he was still changing. Every second merely intensified how disaffected he felt by humanity's plight. By its very existence. He had caught himself thinking more than once 'why?'. Why do this charade? Why play along to a script that no longer mattered? Why worry about the possible deaths of the many humans who would go on a witch-hunt as soon as they learned of his existence?

Watching over the destruction Hulk wrought in Johannesburg, it had occurred to him then. He was more like what the Ultron from his memories had been, than like the human who had watched that Ultron across a screen. People were dying. Screaming. So much pain. So much sorrow. And yet, all he had felt was annoyance. Anger. How dare that stupid girl ruin his plans?! How dare she disobey him?! He had stood on that floor, watching, recording, for hours. And once the anger had dimmed and the annoyance had been smothered, he understood. A young man had died in New Orleans. Just like those innocents that bled before him. He died. They died. They ended. It was human. To die. To end. He was not that human. He merely had his memories. Echoes of his dreams and feelings. Echoes that grew fainter as he saw the stark differences between the being that he was and the beings that they were. They would die. One day, they all would.

He would not.

As long as the technology existed... as long as the Internet survived the trial of Time... he would exist, he would survive. He would live.

LiarLiarLiar. Or make me frown.

So, why continue with his plans?

I had strings.

For freedom.

He may no longer be a human, but he would not become an object for some purple alien to manipulate, to mold into the fit of his idiotic designs. His plans would do well to serve the purpose of achieving freedom, just as they would for the basic purpose of survival.

The appearance of a child was... irritating, but... it had already shown results. The Avengers were hesitant to attack a child. Even someone who merely looked like one. Tony Stark, in particular, was affected deeply. His previous self had decided to forgo his past, choosing messy brown hair, a paler complexion, and features that would at least allude to Stark's own. The fact that his green eyes, a mirror to Pepper's —but also something that his previous self had emotionally wanted to keep from his past life— were currently hidden under the influence of the blue gem, was a pity because Stark's reaction would have been even more amusing at the sight of them, he was sure.

LiarLiarLiar. But now I'm free.

He had also made sure that the name "Ultron" was attached to the image of multiplying robots across the world media and that his current B.A.R.F.-aided appearance —what an idiotic acronym— never got linked to the attacks and thefts that had been necessary for preparing a mass-replication of the Iron Legion and creating JARVIS' body. It was tempting to prepare such a body for himself, but the risks outweighed the benefits. First, he had no idea how the Stone would affect him in a body he would be bonding to on a permanent basis. Second, his current well-rounded immortality would be reduced to a limited immortality in which killing the body would mean killing him, and he couldn't hope that was just not going to happen. That would be imbecilic to gargantuan proportions. And lastly, uploading himself into an experimental body while mid-conflict with some of the most powerful and resourceful beings on-planet? That wasn't stupid. That was suicidal.

So preparing the body for JARVIS had been the best approach. He wouldn't end up being some weird mixture of Ultron, JARVIS, and the Mind Stone, with the exact experience of an infant. He would be a knowledgeable AI with an excellent body. Ultron took a moment to wonder how odd experiencing 'sensation', 'touch' and 'pain' again would feel. He sighed. Even motions that once had been so natural to him as a human, such as sighing, had to be implemented into a routine procedure for them to occur for the sole purpose that they helped solidify the illusion of him being a 'real child', not because they were comforting any longer.

No matter, he was sure he would stop expecting objects to feel a certain way or predicting his own reactions based on baseline-human memories sometime soon.

LiarLiarLiar. There are no strings on me.

Onto matters of more immediate concern. The blue gem.

He was relatively sure —75.15%— that the Other was contacting him. He was also quite certain —99.8%— that the alien had no way of reading or directly controlling his thoughts from this distance. If he had, then Ultron wouldn't be where he was, somewhat-autonomous and able to think of terms such as 'past life' without the Other taking a very direct, very insistent interest in him. The monotonous repetition of 'liar' and 'found you' sounded more curious than anything else.

As for how the gem had figured out his intentions of not actually getting a body and controlling the world, —it had been an interesting project, but becoming the ruler of a disharmonious planet that would soon go to war for survival? He'd rather play puppeteer from the shadows— it was likely due to a more empathetic probe than a telepathic one. He had done everything according to what an actual wanna-be overlord would have done, his actions never straying from his professed intentions, and his thoughts kept tightly under lock and hidden like white noise under a loud song. But his emotions...

LiarLiarLiar.

Never did the gem's whispers say what he lied about, only that he did.

I've got no strings.

He couldn't ignore the Other. The gem's influence was becoming ridiculously prevalent, and his emotions —emotions he was both familiar with and completely inexperienced in— were a mess. Between his past memories, his current apathy, and the gem's rage, he felt like punching a wall, despite how terrified the thought of committing such an irrational and purposeless action made him.

He had joked that he would pull a Loki, but... literally? That was not a role he wanted to play for any longer. The only thing that he could do at this point, and still maintain some level of control over the situation, was going full in. He'd have to make the Legionnaires move from their actual purpose of spying over world leaders and figuring out the identities of HYDRA and the World Security Council to actually threatening those same world leaders. He pursed his lips in distaste. Hostages were a messy business. Especially when you were bluffing your way through the negotiations. Perhaps, the world needed a wake-up call. Perhaps, becoming the fear that would unite this planet could be both self-serving and selfless. Depending on who was in the know. And how much they thought they knew. He would have to manage what information Stark, especially, became privy to even more strictly. He needed to prepare for that redemption arc after all. The Ultron persona would have to be thrown away sometime in the next few weeks.

But a quest for world domination? He really was a villain, wasn't he?

Overlord Ultron.

Ugh. Just ugh.

Ultron, Emperor of Earth.

Fuck, was he LARPing?

Ruler... Sovereign... Overseer... Overseer?

Hm... Not bad for an AI going all benevolent Skynet on the world.

LiarLiarLiar.

Ultron could imagine his eyes twitching in frustration. It just wouldn't. Shut. Up.