A secret military base.
Colonel Stryker stood in a dimly lit room, facing a one-way mirror.
On the other side of the glass was a bed, and on the bed lay a young man with brown hair, pale skin, and closed eyes, looking extremely sickly.
His body was covered in tubes and wires, connected to several buzzing machines nearby, and the brainwaves on the screen were pulsating at abnormal frequencies.
Jason Stryker, the Mastermind and son of Stryker.
A Mutants with extraordinary mind control abilities—not the mind-reading abilities of Professor X, but a more primitive ability to directly create hallucinations in a person's brain.
He can make you see your deepest fears, your most painful experiences, and the things you least want to see, and then you'll go crazy.
Stryker stood in front of the glass, his hands behind his back, his expression unchanged.
Behind him stood a subordinate in a black suit, holding a piece of intelligence that had just been sent from New York.
"Colonel, Xavier Institute has been decimated. An investigation has confirmed that Cyclops and Beast are dead, Storm has had both legs amputated, Professor X is seriously injured, and the school building is severely damaged."
"The X-Men have already withdrawn from the academy." The subordinate's voice was devoid of emotion, like reading a weather report.
Stryker's lips twitched. "Was it Russell who did it?"
"Not entirely. According to intelligence from the scene, it was caused by Jean Grey losing control. Russell was also present, but he was caught in the crossfire, not the one who initiated the attack."
"Jean Grey." Stryker repeated the name, the face of the red-haired woman flashing through his mind, Professor X's most prized student, Mutants with the Phoenix Force dormant within her.
"She finally lost control. I've said it before, all Mutants will lose control, whether it's today or tomorrow, this one or that one. They shouldn't even exist."
He then watched the video of the Battle of New York that his subordinates handed him. His gaze sharpened. Even though he hated Mutants, he had to admit that some Mutants were incredibly powerful.
His plan should be put into action. If he can get the Illusionist to control Professor X, and with the help of the Cerebro, the life and death of 99 percent of Mutants will be in his hands.
Stryker turned and looked at his men.
"Get ready, we'll depart in an hour. Destination: Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters."
The subordinate frowned. "Colonel, His Excellency the President has issued an order forbidding any action against Mutants."
Stryker looked at him, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
"The President is a coward. He's afraid of public opinion, afraid of being criticized, afraid of losing votes, but I'm not afraid. I know what's right and what's wrong."
He walked to the window, drew back the curtains, and outside lay the Colorado wilderness. The setting sun had dyed the entire sky a dark red, like ashes after a fire.
"Mutants are a disease that needs to be eradicated. Professor X is the source of the virus and needs to be nipped in the bud. If I capture him and use his abilities to control all the Mutants, making them kill each other and destroy one another... the president will thank me."
His subordinate's lips moved slightly. "Colonel, if the plan fails..."
"I will not fail." Stryker's voice was calm, like an unbreakable wall, "Because I have the most powerful weapon in the world."
His gaze fell on Jason on the other side of the glass. The young man was still asleep, his brainwaves dancing on the screen like a silent symphony.
"My good weapon, it will help me complete the purification of this world."
The subordinate remained silent. He saluted, turned, and walked out of the room.
As the door closed, Stryker heard his footsteps fade away down the corridor, growing fainter and fainter.
Stryker stood alone in front of the glass, looking at his son. "Jason, Dad will be with you soon. Once all this is over, we'll hit the road together."
The only sounds in the room were the hum of the equipment and Jason's steady breathing.
Downtown New York, New Manhattan City.
The Hand's headquarters was in an inconspicuous alley, in a drab old building with no sign or markers, and even the house number had been worn away.
There was only a rusty iron door, and behind it, a staircase leading underground that always reeked of mold and blood.
Madame Gao sat in the main hall on the ground floor, in front of a long table with a pot of tea and two cups on it.
She looked like an ordinary elderly Asian woman, short and thin, with a full head of silver hair and deep, etched wrinkles on her face.
But if someone gets closer, they will find that her eyes are black, not ordinary black, but the kind of unfathomable black, like two dry wells, a black that sends chills down your spine at first glance.
She has lived for over four hundred years, witnessing the rise and fall of countless dynasties, the collapse of countless empires, and the passing of countless Heroes and monsters on the stage of history.
As one of the Five Fingers of the Hand, he controlled the vast majority of the organization's assassinations and money laundering operations in New York.
"Sir, you already know about what happened in New York."
A dark figure knelt behind her, completely shrouded in a black ninja outfit, with only his eyes visible. Those eyes held no fear, only awe.
Madame Gao picked up the teapot and poured herself a cup of tea. The tea was green, and the steam rose into fine white mist under the lamplight.
"Knew."
"That Mutants named Russell, and that woman named Jean Grey." The shadowy figure looked up. "They're strong, especially Russell; he destroyed one of our divisions a few days ago."
"Strong." Madame Gao took a sip of tea, put the cup down, and the bottom of the cup made a soft sound on the table. "It is very strong."
"Stronger than you?" The shadowy figure had barely uttered the question when he lowered his head, not daring to meet Madame Gao's scrutinizing gaze.
Madame Gao was silent for a few seconds, then her lips twitched slightly. "I can't win." She didn't try to be brave; having lived for over four hundred years, she was long past the age where she needed to use lies to maintain her dignity.
"Just because I can't beat them doesn't mean no one can."
She stood up and walked into the deeper, darker corridor at the back of the hall.
At the end of the corridor was a stone door, covered with densely packed incantations that glowed with a faint, dark red light in the darkness.
Madame Gao stood in front of the door, placed her hands on the stone door, and the door opened.
Inside was an even smaller room, with no windows, no lights, and only a statue.
It's not a stone carving, nor a wood carving; it's a statue that resembles a gathering shadow.
Evil God Beast.
The Hand worships an ancient evil god, an entity that crawled out from a rift in Dimension space.
It has no fixed form; sometimes it looks like a black mist, sometimes like a Beast, and sometimes like a person.
At this moment, it looked like a huge wolf crouching in the darkness, its eyes two dark red orbs.
"My lord." Madame Gao knelt down, her forehead pressed against the cold ground.
The Evil God Beast did not speak; to be precise, its voice did not come from its throat, but rang directly in Madame Gao's consciousness.
"You came to see me because of those two children."
"Yes." Madame Gao's voice was soft but not trembling. "They are very strong, stronger than any of our the Hand ninjas. I can't beat them."
"Of course you can't beat him." The Evil God Beast's voice was emotionless, like a dull knife slowly scraping across a whetstone.
"They are not beings you can deal with. That boy's Telekinesis has reached the level of manipulating atoms, and that girl has the Phoenix Force dormant within her. The Phoenix is one of the oldest forces in the universe, older than my own existence."
Madame Gao lowered her head even further.
"But their Soul Stone— " The Evil God Beast's voice trembled slightly, like the surface of water rippling for a moment in the wind.
"Very powerful, and also delicious, especially the boy's Soul Stone; his Soul Stone is a rare delicacy."
Madame Gao raised her head. "You want to devour their Soul Stone?"
"No." The Evil God Beast's voice lowered. "It would be too wasteful to eat them. I will use them, use their power to open that door and return to my true world."
"I've been weakened for far too long in this world."
Madame Gao asked respectfully, "My lord, what can I do for you?"
"Keep an eye on them, don't make a move yet, just keep an eye on them. I'll do something when I'm ready."
The voice of the Evil God Beast disappeared, as did the two dark red lights, leaving only darkness in the room and Madame Gao kneeling on the ground.
She stood up, dusted off her knees, and turned to leave the room.
After Madame Gao left the dark corridor, the stone door did not completely close.
A thin crack, as fine as a hair, remained there, from which dark red runes shone, like a half-closed eye.
The Evil God Beast crouched in the darkness, its two dark red orbs of light slowly rotating in its eye sockets, like a patient who had just woken up and was still adjusting to the light.
Suddenly, the Evil God Beast turned around abruptly, leaving a twisted trail of black mist in the air, like a startled snake.
The two dark red lights flickered violently in the darkness, like two stars about to go out, and a bald woman in a yellow robe appeared beside them.
Ancient One stood beside the stone door that was not yet fully closed, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his demeanor as composed as someone walking into their own backyard.
Those deep eyes held the kind of calm one feels when watching an insect crawl out of a place it shouldn't be.
"You've crossed the line." The Ancient One's voice was calm, but every word was like a wall pressing in from all directions.
The Evil God Beast took a step back, and black mist condensed behind it into a wall, blocking its path.
It wasn't Ancient One who blocked it; it was Himself who blocked it. Fear made Him instinctively seek refuge. The two dark red lights danced wildly in His eye sockets, like two people trapped in a cage desperately pounding on the bars.
"Sorcerer Supreme." The voice of the Evil God Beast came from the black mist, carrying a trembling noise like that of a machine about to fall apart.
"I didn't cross the line. I was just observing. I didn't hurt anyone; I was just here to take a look."
Ancient One tilted her head.
"Look? You crawled out of Hell, crossed Six Dimensional Barriers, possessed this cloud of black mist, hid in the Hand's basement, and stared at those two kids, and you just looked?"
Recalling the Ancient One's infamous reputation among the Demon God of Hell, the black mist of the Evil God Beast began to tremble even more fiercely, and dark red light seeped out from the mist, like a person with nowhere to hide under the interrogation lights.
"I can leave immediately." His voice carried a pleading tone. "I'll go back to Hell right away and never come back to Earth again. Please have mercy... and Mephisto and I..."
"You know Mephisto?"
The Evil God Beast paused for a moment, and the two dark red lights flashed, like someone in the darkness seeing the last straw.
"Yes, I know Lord Mephisto. He's an old acquaintance of mine; we used to be together—"
The Ancient One raised her hand, and the voice of the Evil God Beast was cut off—not by being choked, but by being erased.
In His consciousness, the straw He was desperately grasping at had snapped.
"Mephisto knows you, but that doesn't mean you can do whatever you want on Earth."
The Ancient One's voice remained calm. "Hell has Hell rules, and the human world has its rules. If you cross the line, you will pay the price."
The Evil God Beast stopped begging for mercy. The two dark red lights transformed from fear into despair, and from despair into a desperate, mad rage.
His body exploded, not by the Ancient One, but by his own self-destruction, trying to blow up the entire house, to flatten the entire block, to cause enough casualties to buy time to escape.
The black mist expanded hundreds of times in an instant, filling the entire room, and dark red light exploded from the mist, like a collapsing star.
The ground began to crack, the walls began to peel, the ceiling began to collapse, and the incantations flashed wildly on the stone door before going out.
This force was enough to raze the entire building to the ground and turn all life within a radius of several hundred meters into ashes.
Ancient One didn't move; she didn't even raise her hand. Her lips moved, and a syllable came out of her throat.
The syllable spread through the air, piercing the black mist, the dark red light, and the frantically expanding body of the Evil God Beast.
The black mist seemed to be squeezed by an invisible hand, stopping its expansion and then beginning to contract—not being pushed back, but being dismantled.
Every particle in the black fog lost its connection with each other under the vibration of that syllable, like a pile of loose sand, like ashes scattered by the wind.
In the blink of an eye, the dark red light went out, and the consciousness of the Evil God Beast shattered into fragments within that syllable, the fragments turned into powder, and the powder turned into nothingness, erased from the level of consciousness.
Like a formatted hard drive, like a torn book, like a person who never existed.
Ancient One lowered his hand and looked at the blackish-gray powder on the ground that was still emitting bluish smoke.
"What a pity," she murmured, a hint of regret in her voice. "This isn't the real body, just an avatar. The real body is still hiding in Hell."
She squatted down, picked up a small pinch of powder with her fingers, rubbed it between her fingertips, and the powder drifted into the air like a wisp of smoke.
"However, this clone's power is enough; it's sufficient to serve as a consumable item for several magical costs."
She stood up, clapped her hands, and turned to leave.
"Next time, be smart and don't... come again."