When Mystique woke up, she discovered that she was actually inside X Academy.
Beside her, Professor Charles watched her with an earnest gaze.
Charles sat in a chair beside the bed. He wanted to take her hand, but after hesitating several times, he rested his hand back on his knee.
"Are you all right, Mystique?"
Charles was deeply emotional.
When Erik had broken away from X Academy, he had taken a large group of people away from Charles.
Mystique had been among them.
But Mystique had left of her own accord. Clearly, Charles's ideals had not appealed to her as much as Erik's radical approach.
Mystique scrambled upright and curled up at the foot of the bed, looking past Charles toward the person standing by the door.
Brad leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded and yawned.
"Let me guess."
"Before Erik asked to meet with me, he arranged for you to impersonate someone near the place where we'd be talking."
"Except, as luck would have it, the person you picked happened to have one of my people nearby."
"And then my person knocked you out."
Brad's smile was positively wicked.
Mystique froze for a moment, then raised a hand to rub the swollen, aching back of her head.
She remembered.
After Brad and Erik entered the Small Tavern, she had slipped into the kitchen and knocked out a Black Waitress.
Then, relying on her flawless disguise, she had transformed into that waitress and gone to take Erik and Brad's order.
She had returned to the kitchen and called out their order.
The Bearded Chef had given her an expressionless glance.
Then she had lost consciousness.
Brad pushed away from the doorframe with his shoulder, straightened up, and walked slowly over to Professor Charles, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"There's no need to look at us so warily. Erik has already abandoned you."
Mystique paused, then her gaze turned cold. Clearly, she did not believe Brad. "Impossible! Erik wouldn't do that."
Brad could not be bothered to waste words arguing with her. He extended his right hand and opened his palm, revealing a miniature three-dimensional projection of a scene.
In the footage, Mystique caught up with Erik as he walked out of the tavern. They exchanged a few words, then Erik's expression grew slightly tense. He turned to look at Mystique's right hand twice in succession, abruptly summoned a car that had been waiting for some time, and got in alone and left.
Mystique's eyes widened. She had no memory of leaving the tavern.
Then she saw silver liquid ripple across the body of the person who looked exactly like her, transforming that person into a humanoid figure gleaming silver all over.
Mystique felt something she could hardly describe. She had always been the one imitating others; this was the first time someone else had impersonated her.
"Who is that?!"
Mystique was deeply wary of the silver figure in the projection.
"Oh, just one of my robots."
Brad looked as casual and relaxed as a child showing off a creation made from building blocks.
Even Charles turned to look at him in surprise.
He had not known that Brad possessed robotics technology.
Brad ignored Professor X's reaction and continued.
"I developed a form of force-field technology that counters Magneto's mutant ability. In theory, Magneto shouldn't be able to detect my robots."
"But he's a little sneakier than I thought. He implanted some metal particles in the bone of your right index finger."
"So, when he couldn't sense any magnetic field coming from the robot I sent, he probably realized that I'd already found a way to counter his ability."
"And the result..."
Brad gave a cold chuckle. "The bastard ran immediately, terrified I'd catch up and stop him from leaving."
"He didn't care in the slightest what kind of situation you were in."
After saying his piece, Brad gently squeezed Charles's shoulder, then walked out of the room.
He did not know much about the finer details of Charles, Erik, and Mystique's shared past. He had said what needed saying. Whether Charles could seize this opportunity to keep Mystique by his side was Charles's business.
Brad had already gotten what he wanted anyway.
Mystique's blood and one of her scales.
Brad packaged those two biological samples and mailed them anonymously to Dr. Bolivar, specifying which mutant they had come from. He also included a USB drive containing a video of Mystique transforming.
He trusted that Professor Bolivar would recognize the value of Mystique's genes and bring the ultimate version of the Sentinels into existence sooner.
Meanwhile, Beth, the special T1001 model he had sent out, was now getting along very well with Dr. Bolivar.
They had progressed from their initial arguments to physical contact-Beth hitting and scolding Bolivar.
Whenever the two "people" argued according to Brad's script, Beth would blush and lightly punch Bolivar a few times. The latter clearly enjoyed it.
His research efficiency had also slipped lately, because Bolivar was busy preparing to confess his love to Beth.
Clearly, Mr. Bolivar, who had once devoted himself entirely to research, could no longer do without Ms. Beth.
Brad thought that was fine. Once their relationship progressed further, Bolivar would be even easier to control.
So, on his orders, Ms. Beth, a researcher at the Bolivar Company, took several days off, saying that she was going home to visit her family.
Bolivar had been utterly distracted these past few days. Unable to see Beth, hear her scold him, or feel her little fists hitting him, he was miserable.
So miserable that he had even lost his appetite.
Meanwhile, the Ms. Beth whom Bolivar missed so dearly had returned to Canada on Brad's orders.
Considering their increasingly frequent physical contact and the possibility of more intimate interactions in the future, he had something to account for.
Brad decided to give Ms. Beth an upgrade.
A special T1200 Terminator model.
Beth Two.
This version was no longer an entirely liquid robot. Instead, it used a lighter bionic skeleton and bionic flesh.
Although combat was not its strength, it was far more refined for agent work and could even carry out many missions that real female agents could perform.
Although the liquid robot version was already much lighter than the T800 version with its all-steel frame covered in bionic flesh, Brad still worried that it might accidentally crush the diminutive Dr. Bolivar to death.
Besides, a real person could not go without ever getting hurt, bleeding, or losing hair.
Bolivar had simply never been in love before, and he was currently in a phase of passionate love-or unrequited love-that had severely diminished his intelligence.
After all, he was a recognized genius in Marvel. Perhaps one day he would regain his composure and suddenly realize that Ms. Beth had spent years at his side without shedding a single hair.
And this T1200 model, designed specifically for Bolivar-Ms. Beth Two-
Really could bleed and lose hair.
Like the outer layer of skin on a T800 Terminator, the biological tissue on her body would even simulate a real human aging over time.
Even if someone drew her blood and tested it, they would find nothing abnormal.
These bionic materials had all been specially cloned and cultivated from real human cells Brad had collected over the past few decades.
Beth One returned to the base and stood inside a Containment Pod, the light gradually fading from her eyes.
Beth Two received all of One's memories and the details of her daily life, then sat up naked inside an Incubation Pod.
What should we do with this first model?
When we made this special version, we didn't equip her with any combat functions.
Skynet quietly posed the questions within Brad's consciousness.
Brad frowned and considered it for a while.
"Salvage and destroy her. Taking her apart will recover some materials. Having plenty of resources doesn't mean we can waste them."
Bolivar had made arrangements with a florist and an upscale restaurant. His face brimmed with excitement and anticipation as he waited for Ms. Beth to return from visiting her family.
"When she gets back, I'll confess my love!"
Bolivar looked so radiant now, compared with his former cold, extreme self, who had done nothing but brood in his laboratory and passionately report the dangers of mutants to the government.
He looked much better now.
He was full of hope for the future. His life was no longer all research; it reeked of romance.
"Oh, Beth, the woman who haunts my dreams!"
Beth One lay on the conveyor belt, her expression lifeless. After giving the order, Brad could not be bothered to spare her another glance. Countless mechanical arms descended from the ceiling and methodically dismantled her body.
Once everything salvageable had been stripped away, a battered, broken body finally disappeared into the deep darkness.
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