Stryker's desperate last stand: awakening the Sentinel prototypes
The cold liquor slid down his throat, carrying a faint aroma of oak barrels. Lynn leaned back in the Throne, which was twisted from a mahogany desk, his fingertips tapping casually on the armrest.
The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The air still carried the pungent smell of Ozone from the Chaos Magic explosion, mixed with the faint acrid sensation of the Invisible Force Field rubbing against the air.
A large Holographic Projection screen unfolded in front of him, its pale blue light illuminating his calm face.
"Sir, Stryker's underground Rat Hole have been completely wiped out." Natasha's slightly hoarse yet extremely fanatical voice came through the headset. Accompanied by the rapid clatter of keyboards, she continued, "I've bypassed the Pentagon's highest firewall and taken over their base's internal surveillance. What you're seeing now is live footage."
Lynn nodded slightly, his gaze fixed on the screen.
Thick, white Liquid Nitrogen vapor surged out from behind the slowly rising blast door like a tidal wave. Even through the screen, Lynn could imagine the pungent smell of engine oil and the sense of despair that permeated the base.
In the center of the image, William Stryker —the military bigwig who once held sway over the Mutants world—is now like a mad dog cornered in a dead end. His obese body trembles violently, and he clutches a smoking pistol in his hand.
At his feet, an adjutant, clutching his bullet-pierced thigh, wailed desperately in a pool of blood. "Sir... the Prototype haven't even completed the final testing of the Friend-or-Foe Identification Module! If we force them to start, they'll cause indiscriminate Carnage in New York City!"
"Carnage? When that monster named Lynn was turning the Sabretooth into a pulp, why didn't you tell him about Carnage?!" Stryker's roar pierced Lynn's ears through the Audio Capture Device. Spittle flew everywhere, and his face was contorted beyond recognition.
Wanda, who had been nestled docilely against Lynn's legs, abruptly looked up when she heard the curses coming from the screen.
Her once clear eyes were instantly swallowed by Scarlet Chaos Magic. Strands of viscous red light danced at her fingertips, and the surrounding air temperature plummeted. She even considered using the network signal to inject Chaos Magic directly into Stryker's brain and tear that fat man who dared to call Lynn by his name to shreds.
"Don't rush, darling." Lynn placed his large hand on Wanda's head, gently stroking her dark red hair. "Let the bullets fly for a while. Killing him outright would be too easy."
Wanda felt the warmth emanating from above her head, and the fierce glint in her eyes softened slightly. Like a cat being stroked, she pressed her face back against Lynn's knees, but her gaze remained fixed on the screen, as if she were looking at a dead person.
Lynn tilted her head back and took a sip of red wine.
Watching a once invincible enemy completely lose their mind out of fear is a far more satisfying experience than simply snapping their neck.
On the screen, the main monitor of the control console was forcibly turned on. Senior Pentagon officials cut into communications, attempting to stop Stryker's erratic actions.
"Stryker! Are you insane?! I order you to immediately terminate the Wake-Up Program!" a general with a star on his shoulder roared. "That's a semi-finished product that Trask Industries is still working on. You have no authority to use this strategic weapon on our own soil!"
But extreme fear had completely destroyed Stryker's sanity.
"To hell with permissions!" Stryker grabbed the microphone, his eyes bloodshot. "The Blind Spot Program has failed! That old fox Nick Fury cut off all contact; he wanted me as a scapegoat! Now, a tyrant with Deity powers is sitting in Manhattan! The coordinates have been exposed, what do you think he's waiting for?! To come knocking on our door and scoop out our brains?!"
"That's your dereliction of duty! The military will handle it; you must stop immediately—"
"Deal with? With what? With your rifles and tanks as toys for his woman?" Stryker rudely interrupted the general, his fingers furiously pounding the keyboard. "I've spent half my life extracting Mutants Genes to deal with these monsters! Sentry are humanity's last resort!"
"Stryker! You're fired! Guard—"
"It's too late."
Stryker grinned maliciously and slammed the Scarlet fire button down. Then, he drew his sidearm and fired three shots at the control panel screen.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The general's furious face instantly turned into a pile of exploding sparks and shards of glass.
"He broke down." Lynn chuckled lightly, his tone devoid of any pity. When someone discovers that their prized trump card is nothing but a joke in the eyes of others, this is the inevitable outcome.
Boom--!
The entire underground base seemed to have been hit by an 8-magnitude earthquake, with the surveillance footage shaking violently. Behind the blast door, three ten-meter-tall mechanical Beast slowly lit up their Scarlet electronic eyes.
The Special Polymer Armor gleamed with a cold metallic luster under the lights. The Ion Thruster on its back spewed out high-temperature exhaust flames powerful enough to melt steel. The thick, High-Frequency Energy-Concentrating Cannon Barrel emitted a dull metallic clanging sound as the robotic arm rotated.
There is no emotion. There is no pain. Only pure logic of killing.
This is the masterpiece of Trask Industries, the ultimate killing weapon against Mutants — the Sentinels Prototype.
The massive dome split open to both sides. Three Sentry shot into the sky with sonic booms that tore through the air, instantly disappearing into the night.
As Lynn looked at the empty launch silo, a very slight stinging sensation came from the Spider-Sense in his mind.
This is a crisis warning at the physical level.
"Sir," Natasha's voice suddenly quickened, the keyboard clattering like a torrential downpour, "Satellite radar shows that three Sentry Prototype are approaching New York airspace at Mach 3. Their Underlying Logic has been forcibly locked to a single coordinate."
"Speak." Lynn put down his wine glass, his eyes deep.
"The target is the Stark Industries Stock Corporation Building in Manhattan's bustling downtown area." Natasha's voice carried a suppressed murderous intent. "That's the private property you just forcibly acquired at a ridiculously low price. Stryker wants to destroy your foundation."
Upon hearing this, Susan, standing to the side of the Throne, clenched her fists tightly. A dark blue, Invisible Force Field rippled violently around her. She had just sworn allegiance to Lynn, offering him Infinite Energy Matrix, and now some piles of scrap metal dared to attack her master's property? This was a slap in the face!
In the deep shadows of the ceiling, Gwen Stacy, hanging upside down, also stopped breathing. Silk Dagger, imbued with high-voltage Bioelectric Charge, flashed a cold, icy light in the darkness.
Lynn took in the women's subtle reactions, a dangerous smile curving his lips.
Stryker's idea of a suicidal attack? Too naive.
He had no idea that the three Mechanical Gundam he had sent out, which he was so proud of, were about to face a group of monsters driven mad by their struggle for favor.
This is no crisis. This is the perfect bait that Lynn is using to "fish" and divert attention from the internal Shura Field.
drop--
On the holographic radar in front of Lynn, three glaring red dots had crossed the state boundary.
"The High-Frequency Energy-Concentrating Cannon has begun warming up and is expected to enter its strike range in two minutes," Natasha reported. "Should I activate the building's air defense system to intercept it?"
"No, turn off the air defense system." Lynn stood up, his leather shoes clicking on the soft carpet.
His gaze swept over the several terrifying energy fluctuations that were secretly vying for dominance in the hall, and the smile on his lips grew even wider.
"Someone's offering themselves up as a punching bag, how can we spoil their fun?"
Above the night sky, three mechanical Grim Reapers spewed flames, pointing their cold cannons at Manhattan. Inside the building, four pairs of eyes, filled with destructive intent, quietly opened in the darkness.