Chapter 23: The Approach

Chapter 23: The Approach

Time Period: 2015

Age: 13 years old

The drive to Stark's estate was a mixture of silence and tension. The weight of what we were about to attempt settled heavily on all of us. Stark was not just a genius; he was a man who had survived in a world filled with gods, monsters, and everything in between. Approaching him meant walking a fine line between opportunity and danger.

Kee sat in the passenger seat, his eyes scanning the road ahead, always alert. He wasn't just watching for threats; he was mentally mapping out the terrain, noting every possible escape route, every potential hazard. Elijah, seated in the back with me, was similarly focused, his hand resting on the butt of the pistol hidden beneath his jacket. We weren't planning for violence, but if things went sideways, we were ready to respond.

As we neared the estate, the landscape changed from the bustling cityscape of Manhattan to the more serene, wooded outskirts. Stark's estate was located in a secluded area, surrounded by tall trees and protected by high-tech security systems. The contrast between the natural environment and the technological fortress we were approaching was stark, no pun intended.

The gates of the estate were tall and imposing, with cameras and sensors discreetly placed along their length. As we pulled up, the gates opened smoothly, as if Stark had been watching our approach all along. It wasn't hard to imagine that he had been; nothing happened on his property without his knowledge.

We drove through the gates and followed the winding driveway up to the main house. The estate was vast, with manicured lawns, a helipad, and several smaller buildings scattered across the property. The main house itself was a marvel of modern architecture—sleek lines, large windows, and a minimalist design that still managed to exude wealth and power.

A man in a tailored suit greeted us as we exited the car. He was professional, with the kind of quiet confidence that suggested he was more than just a butler. "Mr. Stark is expecting you," he said, his tone polite but firm. He led us through the front door and into the house.

The interior of the house was just as impressive as the exterior. The walls were adorned with artwork that likely cost more than most people's homes, and the furniture was sleek and modern. The air was filled with the faint hum of technology, the quiet efficiency of Stark's AI systems running in the background.

As we were led through the halls, I couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. This was Tony Stark, a man whose intellect and resources were nearly unmatched. If we could win him over, it would be a significant step forward in our war against The Dominion. But I knew better than to underestimate him. Stark was known for his unpredictability, and there was no telling how this meeting would go.

Finally, we were shown into a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawling grounds. The room was bright, the sunlight streaming in through the glass and casting long shadows across the polished floor. It was a stark contrast to the tension we felt inside.

Stark was already there, standing by the windows with his back to us. He was dressed casually in a dark T-shirt and jeans, but there was an air of authority about him that was impossible to ignore. He didn't turn as we entered, seemingly absorbed in the view outside. It was a power move, one designed to make us wait and reflect on the fact that we were on his turf, playing by his rules.

I took a moment to study him. Tony Stark was a man who had faced down gods and monsters, who had built an empire with his own two hands. But he was also a man with vulnerabilities—a man who had seen and done things that left scars, both visible and invisible. Understanding that was key to approaching him.

"Nice place," I remarked, breaking the silence as we stepped further into the room.

Stark turned then, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. His gaze was sharp, assessing as he looked us over. "It does the job," he replied, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity. He took a few steps forward, his hands slipping into his pockets. "So, you're the ones who thought it was a good idea to hack into my systems and leave a message. I'll admit, that took some guts."

"It got your attention, didn't it?" I replied, meeting his gaze evenly.

Stark's smile widened slightly, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes—calculation. "It did. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to trust you. You've got my interest, but you're going to have to do better than that if you want my help."

I nodded, respecting his straightforwardness. "We're not here to play games, Stark. We're here because we're facing a threat that neither of us can handle alone. The Dominion is bigger than you realize, and their leader, The Architect, is a problem that's going to get a lot worse if we don't act now."

Stark listened, his expression unreadable. He was clearly processing everything I was saying, weighing it against what he already knew. "You're talking about a global threat—something that's off the radar of every major intelligence agency. And you expect me to just take your word for it?"

"No," I replied, keeping my tone even. "We expect you to do what you do best—figure out the truth for yourself. We're offering you a partnership because we believe that together, we can stop The Dominion before they become unstoppable. But if you're not interested, we'll walk away and handle it on our own."

There was a long silence as Stark considered my words. He was weighing his options, assessing the risks and benefits. Finally, he spoke, his tone measured but firm.

"I'm not in the habit of partnering with people I don't know," Stark said, his gaze never leaving mine. "But you've got my attention, and that's more than most people can say. I'll look into The Dominion and this Architect of yours. If I like what I find, we'll talk again. But make no mistake—if I find out you're playing me, this ends here."

I nodded, knowing that this was the best outcome we could hope for at this stage. "Fair enough. We'll be in touch."

Stark didn't respond, simply nodding as we turned to leave. As we exited the estate, the tension in the air was still palpable. We had made contact, but Stark's next move was still a mystery. He was a man who played his cards close to his chest, and we would have to wait and see how he chose to proceed.

As we drove away from the estate, Elijah finally broke the silence. "Do you think he'll follow through?"

I considered the question carefully before answering. "Stark's a man of his word. If he says he'll look into it, he will. But whether he decides to join us or not—that's something we'll have to wait and see."

Mia, who had been quiet during the meeting, finally spoke up. "We've planted the seeds. Now it's up to Stark to decide if he wants to water them."

The drive back to Umbra was filled with a sense of anticipation. We had taken a significant step forward, but the outcome was still uncertain. Stark was a wild card, and how he chose to play his hand would determine the course of the war against The Dominion.

But as I sat in the back seat, watching the city lights blur past, I couldn't help but feel a sense of determination. We had faced long odds before, and we had always come out on top. This would be no different. Whatever Stark decided, we would be ready.