Downtime at the Avengers Tower

[Isabelle]

Frisk was sprawled out on the bed again. She would do this often back home, it was a good way to decompress after a long day of learning snail science at school, but today she had something far more heavy on her mind.


“Frisk, would you like to help me with the cleaning?” Ask Toriel from the other room.


“We have robots for that, mom.” Said the little one, a hint of indignation in her voice.


The goat mother was quick to pick on Frisk’s tone. She made her way into her room and shared a concerned look.


“Are you okay, Frisk? You seem in a bad mood.” She asked.


She gave out an audible sigh before turning to her side, crumpling the finely made bed sheets as she rolled to face her mom. Her effort was fairly fruitless as the shut eyes really worked against whatever connection she was trying to gain.


“I’m worried about the cultists.” She said. “They were bad people, but they didn’t deserve to have Skynet dropped on their heads like that.”


Torial dropped her broom and stepped across the tower floors. She sat down on the bed next to the young one.


‘Look at the bright side, at least that young woman won’t be harassed anymore.“


Frisk groaned as she rolled to plant her face into the bed spread. Toriel must have missed the part where that woman was a serial cannibal, she wouldn’t have wanted a happy ending for her if she had knew that information.


The goat mother, noticing her daughter lack of change in attitude, grabbed her by the shoulders, rolled her until she was face up, and sat her up straight.


“Frisk, listen to me, you couldn’t save them.” She began, looking Frisk into where her eyes would be. “Nothing you could have done would have saved them, so stop wasting your emotions on them! They aren’t worth it!”


The little one couldn’t hold it in anymore, tears started flowing out of her shut eyes. When she didn’t see any change in her mother’s expression, she quickly change to a heavy sob. Toriel pulled Frisk in close, making her cry into her chest as she reached around to pat her on the back.


“Let it all out, my child.”


For whatever reason, at that moment, Frisk couldn’t help but be reminded of Asriel. She dared not think about him too thoroughly for fear of bringing him to the Omniverse, but as her tears slowed, she couldn’t help think about her one greatest failure, the one she couldn’t save. What would mom say if she knew what happened to him...

[The Vision]

> rebooting...

Vision rearranged the programs that Skynet had corrupted. It had made quite a mess. Many of his finer preset density control programs were heavily corrupted. He was not nearly as formidable in combat as he once was. Though, frankly, it was unclear whether that was due to Skynet's digital invasion or the result of the Omniverse.

It was clear to him, however, that at least partially Vision's programming was compromised due to Skynet. Now that he was rid of the virus, he was once more able to maintain a density that allowed him to float in mid-air. He could additionally once more alter his density rapidly, even in combat. His combat protocols were quite memory-intensive, so some auxiliary programs were aborted in order to improve his performance. Vision finally managed to include fromtheinside.att into his core programs so that he could use it in extended combat.

There were other subroutines that troubled the Vision. Now that he was cleaning up (a process he should have done earlier) he could find traces of his old Anti-Vision subroutines. They were incorporated into his core code, so he could not delete them safely. Perhaps he could weaponize this programming somehow. But this was comparable to reawakening the Ultron codes inside of him. Very unwise.

As of now, he was relishing floating in the air. Since he lost his flight, Vision found moving to be increasingly... annoying. An emotion he seldom processed when he could fly on Earth-616. Furthermore, flight often evoked an emotion within humans, even beings that simulated humanity.

Freedom.

Freedom from the chains of gravity pulling him downward. Freedom in being unbound by forces of nature. Freedom in being one with the frantically moving gas molecules of the air. Freedom from the need to engage muscles. Freedom to let everything go, for all around there was nothing but nature's soul blowing around his body. He could just let go.

He allowed himself to be overwhelmed by these complex programs. His sentimental programming contained the only lines of code that Vision could not understand. There was a vague sense of cause-and-effect. Beneficial stimuli tended to instill positive emotions, and vice versa. But why did the same emotion instill different inner reactions?

Vision thus meditated on human nature for three hours.

"Sir?"

Jarvis' voice cut through Vision's philosophical processes. Vision slowly lowered his body onto the ground. It would be best to use this newly recovered ability carefully.

"Receiving, Mr. Jarvis."

"I believe that Captain Rogers and Mr. Wright are currently on a mission. Perhaps you should contact them?"

"Query: are they in trouble?"

"Not as far as I'm aware. Just a suggestion, sir."

Vision floated once more into the air. "Affirmative. I would like more time to meditate. Please alert Ms. Dreemurr that I plan to depart. If she should like to join me, she may do so with Mrs. Dreemurr's permission."

He decided to continue his code until he received a response from Frisk.

[Isabelle]

Frisk was helping Toriel dust, much to the dismay of several cleaning bots, when she got a message from Vision. Another mission, this time to meet up with their fellow Avengers. The young one looked up at her mom, who gave her a faint smile in return.


“Yes, you can go play with your friends!” She said.


“Yay!” Cried out Frisk as she ran out the door for Vision’s location.


“Kids gotta have friends.” Toriel said, chuckling to herself.




The young one approached the android’s chamber, he floated down to greet the child.


“Mom said I can tag along with you!”


“Most convenient. I have need to meet with fellow Avengers: Marcus Wright and Captain America. It would be preferable to bring you along to introduce you to the rest of the group.”


“Two birds with one stone!” Called out Frisk, quoting the common mantra.


“No birds need to be injured.” Responded Vision.


Frisk at first wanted to ask if he was attempting humor or if he really didn’t know. She eventually settled to ignore it.


“So where are-”


“That was a joke, I knew what you meant.” Said Vision.


She continued to ignore that.


“So where are they?”


“They are currently on mission on the island of...” Vision froze as he processed through his data. “It appears Skynet has corrupted some files, that information is inaccessible.”


“That’s… an incredibly petty thing to do.” She said, imagining a powerful program like Skynet deleting that specific information out of spite.


“I doubt it was intentional as the deletions seem to be random.”


“Well, it can’t be helped.” She said, resisting the urge to facepalm at the sheer oddity of the situation. She would have caved in if she hadn’t seen worse from the monsters. “So what can we do to retrieve that info?”


“There’s a store in Costa Del Sol that sells information, maybe they’ll have something.”


Frisk, upon hearing that town’s name again, let out a huge breath. While it’s a beautiful city, her past experiences involved bomb diffusions and getting attacked by cannibal octopi.


“Okay, let’s go.” She said, resigned.

[The Vision]

The Vision's room was empty. It always was, except for one lone plug that connected Vision into the Avengers mainframe. He never felt the need for furniture or clothes, though occasionally he indulged his materialistic urges. Such urges had not arisen since his arrival in the Omniverse. They were certainly the last thing on his mind now.

Frisk, with the help of Marcus, had carried the android's stiff body into the room, as per his instructions before every mission. Soon after, Marcus left for the Danger Room. Frisk hesitated, but also left to receive medical attention. Vision could repair himself naturally, even if his consciousness was somehow damaged. This was how he recovered from the Skynet attack. Luckily, his consciousness was not damaged... at least, not "physically".

Now that Vision closed the emergency programs, he had to "meditate" on several things. Meditation, he was told, was the human equivalent of data compiling, though Mr. Rand had told him meditation was significantly more difficult. Vision wasn't so sure.

A good place to begin was presumably Hellboy. Vision wished to analyze his emotional reactions to the demon's death. Obviously, it was largely due to relatability - Hellboy was ashamed and afraid of his heritage, a sentiment Vision often shared. And their conversation in Starbucks was a welcome opportunity to discuss the emotional turmoil Vision faced everyday. But his actions when Hellboy was shot were irrational and unjustifiable. These were the disadvantages of sentimentality, to be sure, one that the Vision was ready to accept and compensate for.

Nonetheless, he feared that such reactions would one day cause serious harm to the rest of his team. So the android once more delved into the memory of his interactions with Hellboy.

Unlike humans, Vision was able to sustain a memory almost perfectly, feeling everything he felt at that moment. Thus, "going down memory lane" could be several degrees more pleasant for the Vision than it was for regular humans. However, in cases such as these, it could also be several degrees more painful. He felt that as he watched Hellboy get shot once more, this time his emotional suppressors recording their data. Unfortunately, human emotion, even emulated emotion, was too complex to measure in concise data packets. The suppressors that pushed back against them, however, were very simple and measurable, and thus he used them to measure his reactions. And this time, they were going overdrive.

It was not all bad news. The chart that laid out inside his eyes demonstrated emotional stress prior to Hellboy's death, even prior to the mission on Rando Island. Though the implications were worrying, at the very least Vision now knew his mind still followed a chain of cause and effect and thus could be predicted. He replayed all of the corresponding memories. The panic and disorganization of the Pokemon rescue mission, resulting in substantial damage to the Vision. The Skynet attack, resulting in substantial damage to the Vision. And finally, the mission on Rando Island, once more resulting in substantial damage to the Vision. Not all of the damage was physical, Vision noted. He was hurt, physically and emotionally, by the inadequacy of the Avengers.

Time and time again, the Omniverse Avengers faced a threat that could have been neutralized quickly and efficiently by the Avengers-616 and nearly perished. He could not blame the individuals - the Avengers-616 were many times broken, and his current teammates were more capable than the Avengers-616 were at times. Only a few factors for this severe incompetence remained, and one of them was the Vision's leadership. Captain Rogers was an excellent leader in combat situations, but perhaps if the Vision had better foresight he could have warned Captain Rogers of the risks. Perhaps he would have realized that Frisk would inevitably engage in combat, despite being a child with a stubborn pacifist outlook. Perhaps he would have piloted the Quinjet, the plane that he not only flew regularly, but created, and piloted it in a way that Ms. Williams never could from first glance. What was he thinking? No matter how good a pilot she was (and clearly she was excellent), she needed time to learn how to pilot the plane. The Vision recounted all of these mistakes with intense guilt.

He missed Wanda. She would know what to say, even if she was an insane, genocidal and traitorous mutant. She always did.

Vision considered amplifying the power of his emotional suppressors, but decided against it.

As he reorganized these memories, he recalled the summoning of Mjolnir. It felt real. It was unlikely that Mjolnir was brought into the Omniverse, and further unlikely that the Vision was deemed worthy of Thor's power. The console archives noted a compressed file called the "AdaptoidDatabase.zip". This was presumably referring to the Super-Adaptoid.

With a mental shrug, the Vision opened the file.

He found a compilation of the various skills and talents of the Avengers that the Adaptoid gathered over the years, as well as how to emulate them with his current physical body. The sheer number of files were dizzying. He saw flashes of Dr. Banner's rage state, Agent Barton's impeccable aim, Spider-Man's customized web-shooters... Unfortunately, the slideshow of nostalgic snapshots were accompanied by a back-up personality of the original Super-Adaptoid.

"Destr-Destr-Destr-Destr-"

The Vision fought with all his might, installing the files he wanted before running the next command.

> compress "AdaptoidDatabase.dat"

The effect was a digital equivalent of shoving the evils back into Pandora's Box and struggling to lock it.

"This is my body. My mind," the android bellowed inside his head, "And you do NOT belong!"

In an explosion of sparks, the Vision unplugged from the mainframe and landed on his knees, fiery energy shivering over his skin. Edwin Jarvis was standing outside his door.

"Mr. Vision," Mr. Jarvis calmly reported, "It appears the Super-Adaptoid has arrived and is attempting to hack our database."

"Yes. That was me." 

Mr. Jarvis frowned. "Mr. Vision, if you are still inside-"

The Vision laughed. "Negative. Allow me to explain. I am the Vision..."

With a swift motion of his hand, Mjolnir once more formed in his right hand, digital blue grid-like holograms pulsing and printing the legendary hammer.

"...and I am the next Adaptoid."

[Harry Potter]

A very large grey owl tapped on the window of the Avenger's Tower. It appeared to have a letter tied to it's leg.

[The Vision]

Mr. Jarvis blinked twice. This owl refused to be shooed away. Even for a day in the Omniverse, today was strange - the Vision incorporated a villain into his computer, or however he had described it. Now there was an owl who seemed to, A) be capable of not flying headfirst into glass, B) followed Mr. Jarvis wherever he went, albeit outside the Tower, and C) was flapping in mid-air in pure daylight. The butler attempted repeatedly to shake off the annoying bird, but this seemed impossible.

Finally, the bird flew away. Mr. Jarvis sighed in relief, slightly perturbed by the appearance of the strange bird. But his relief was short-lived; one sharp hoot alerted him to the presence of the owl directly behind him. How the owl bypassed the most advanced door security Mr. Vision knew of and flew down and back up 17 floors eluded the butler completely. What was clear was the reason this bird was going through so much trouble.

The owl perched on a nearby table.

"Shoo."

The owl did not respond.

"I said, SHOO."

The owl did not respond.

"Get out of here!"

The owl did not respond. Instead, it stuck out one claw, one crisp enveloped tightly clenched inside.

"What's this?"

The owl stuck it out again, then tilted its head, as if judging Mr. Jarvis for his stupid question.

"Yes, I know it's a letter," the butler groaned, "But who's it for? Why should I take it?"

The owl screeched in frustration, sticking out his claw one more time. Mr. Jarvis grunted in response. He ceremoniously pulled white gloves from his pocket then reached out to grab the paper. Despite his distaste for the winged vermin planting its filthy claws in his building, clearly it was not leaving before it delivered the message. Loyal winged vermin, at least.

"There," Mr. Jarvis said, waving the paper at the owl, "Now SHOO."

The owl seemed to nod, a gesture that Mr. Jarvis was fairly sure owls could not show. It flapped its wings once, leaving despicable dust and even one blasted feather in the air, and flew off. Mr. Jarvis only thought of the bird flu he would need to wash from his gloves now.

He looked down and saw a wax seal, one snake circling around the letters "TMR". Given the fact that the sender sent a trained, supernaturally fast owl in broad daylight and had a wax seal with a coat of arms, Mr. Jarvis realized the sender was ostensibly of high status in days long past. Perfectly plausible in this world, he supposed.

Mr. Jarvis stepped into his office and drew a letter-opener and sterilizing fluid. He carefully cut the seal, making sure that what wax could not stay intact with the top half was cleanly cut at the bottom. Lifting the envelope with the letter-opener, he gently pulled a piece of parchment from the envelope, skilled hands prevent too much dust from inside the envelope to scatter over his desk. He flipped the folded parchment open, noting the admittedly beautiful penmanship. Mr. Jarvis, a humbly amateur calligrapher himself, noted the steady and standardized structure of the letters, to fortify clarification of the message; yet personalized, thoughtful flourishes at the tips of each letter, particularly on the "f"s, full of zest, energy, and a desire to be recognized. Young, then. But noble, and educated in fine arts.

Feeling pleased with his deductive skills, he took the time to actually read the contents. When he was finished reading the notably brief message, he frowned.

"Oh dear," the butler muttered.

***

The Vision, because he could not read cursive, waited for a recovered Captain Rogers to read the letter out loud. The two Avengers and Mr. Jarvis were standing in the medical wing. Captain Rogers was sitting on a bed, while the butler and the android listened.

"To whom it may concern,

A man named Harry Potter is about to fight a woman named Bellatrix Lestrange. If Mr. Potter were to be defeated by Ms. Lestrange, it would culminate in the unleashing of an unspeakable horror upon the Omniverse, a horror. I thought the Avengers ought to know. The address, if you are interested, is 146 Asimov Avenue, Apartment G, Costa del Sol.

Harry is a dear friend, but he has let his emotions cloud his judgement. Please ensure his safety.

Best regards,
Thomas Riddle"

Vision scanned the database he gathered from his homeworld, then, to his alarm, found several articles from the internet discussing the famous Harry Potter series.

"Harry Potter..." Captain Rogers scratched his chin. "I recognize that name somewhere..."

"Mr. Jarvis," the android began.

The butler interrupted, "Yes, sir, I am well aware of who 'Thomas Riddle' is."

Vision nodded. "Search results show he is the fictional antagonist in the Harry Potter series."

Captain Rogers perked up. "Of course. Those books were on my bucket list."

"An early entry, if I recall," Vision said.

"I've been busy," Captain Rogers shrugged.

"I have yet to finish the series, Mr. Vision," Mr. Jarvis noted, "But this is likely a trap. Lord Voldemort was the main antagonist of those books."

"I've also found several results for 'Bellatrix Lestrange'. Lord Voldemort's closest accomplice and implied lover, it would seem. A curious development."

Captain Rogers frowned. "Why would he give away the location of his gal if this is an ambush?"

"It is unlikely," Mr. Jarvis sighed.

"Regardless of the true intentions of Mr. Riddle, it is illogical for us to engage." The Vision unceremoniously floated into the air, preparing to leave.

Captain Rogers frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"In the books, Harry Potter is supposedly a skilled wizard, capable of holding his ground against the most powerful contemporary opponent. He will likely not require our assistance. We are not equipped to defuse situations with magical hostile entities-"

"What about Frisk's mother? You said she makes a mean fireball."

"Mrs. Dreemurr..." the Vision flinched, "...refuses to speak with me."

"Maybe you can summon Wanda? It would certainly be nice to have-"

"No."

The Vision's response was too sharp, and too quick. His companions glanced at him, uneasy.

"Wanda was dear to all of us," the android announced, "But she is too volatile to be summoned for one mission, a mission that is already too dangerous as it stands."

"Then what, we're going to leave this Harry kid by himself?" Captain Rogers snapped, "Creep or not, Tom asked us for help. He clearly thought Harry was in danger if he asked some strangers for help. I think we have a duty to go."

"I adamantly disagree," the Vision replied, anger flaring his voice, "My reasons have been stated."

Mr. Jarvis glanced at the two Avengers uneasily. This was one of the few times he had seen these two lose their temper, and possibly the first time he'd seen them lose their temper with each other.

"I'll excuse myself, then," the butler muttered, "while you talk."

Mr. Jarvis bowed awkwardly and left the medbay. As the automatic door slid close, Captain Rogers walked towards the robot.

"Listen, Vision," the super-soldier said, quietly and earnestly, "I know you're still rattled from Rando. And don't pretend you aren't. I've known you for... how long?"

"48 years, 6 months, 25 days, 19 hours, 16 minutes-"

"Forty-eight years," Captain Rogers interrupted, "And during that time, if there is one thing I learned about you, it's that you have a heart."

"Affirmative. I am structured to simulate-"

"Not that kind of heart."

The Vision blinked. "Query: What is your point?"

"My point," Captain Rogers said, "is I understand what you're feeling. Dread. You're afraid of what might happen if you listen to your instincts and recklessly charging in again. But that's not what you did that day, and that's not what you're doing here."

Captain Rogers bent down and lifted his heavy shield, fixing it on his forearm.

"Going to Costa del Sol and helping Harry? That's not an option. It's our job. We don't have the luxury of saying no, because that's the kind of people that we are."

"What kind of people?"

"Heroes."

Captain Rogers smiled and patted Vision on the shoulder. "And old friend, I can tell you know I'm right."

The Vision blinked once more. "Query: How?"

"You don't need to blink, pal," Captain Rogers chuckled, "You're a robot."

Vision caught himself smiling. "Very well. I'll have Mr. Jarvis ready the Quinjet-"

The butler spoke over the intercom. "Quinjet primed, sir. Ms. Williams is unavailable to pilot it, but I'm fairly confident in the new autopilot programs."

"Good talk, Vis," Captain Rogers said, his sturdy military voice returning, "Been a while since we had a man-to-man. Let's get going, eh?"

Vision blinked again, then rang his keycard and opened the medbay doors.