Natasha's finishing blow: cutting off military support

Stryker's fingertips pressed firmly against the red plastic button.

The air conditioning in the underground Main Control Room was blasting, but his back was completely soaked with cold sweat. The sticky military uniform clung to his skin like a shroud he couldn't shake off.

Press it down.

Once pressed, the miniature nuclear reactor 600 meters underground will enter an irreversible overload state. Ten seconds later, temperatures reaching tens of millions of degrees will completely vaporize this secret base, along with itself, into a cloud of plasma gas.

He won't survive, but those monsters won't have it easy either.

Stryker gritted his teeth, exerted force with his wrist, and slammed it down hard.

Click.

Press the button all the way down. The spring makes a dull mechanical friction sound.

Stryker closed his eyes, the muscles around his eyes twitching wildly with extreme tension. He awaited the piercing self-destruct alarm, awaited the entire underground space to be enveloped in a countdown of red light.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

The only sound in the Main Control Room was the hum of the exhaust fan. There were no alarms, no countdown timers, nothing at all.

Stryker suddenly opened his eyes, his pupils contracting violently.

The static screen on the huge surveillance wall in front of us has disappeared. In its place, there are glaring blood-red pop-up windows all over the screen.

[System in transit]

[Self-destruct protocol has been forcibly locked]

[Top control authority has been changed]

"No... this is impossible..." Stryker hissed like a broken bellows. He frantically lunged at the control panel, his rough fingers pounding wildly on the keyboard, trying to bypass the main system and forcefully activate the physical detonator.

The red pop-ups on the screen didn't disappear; instead, they multiplied, like a flock of blood-red crows mocking him, overwhelming his entire field of vision.

"Connect to Andrews Air Force Base! Send all the F-22s over here! Scavenge! Blow this place up completely!" Stryker roared hysterically into the microphone, spitting as he spoke onto the screen.

There was only a hissing noise in the headphones.

Baxter Building, underground Supercomputer Center.

The pale blue light from the Holographic Screens shone on Natasha's face, outlining her cold and focused features.

She wasn't wearing her signature tight-fitting combat suit; instead, she was only wearing a large white shirt that belonged to Lynn. The collar was open, revealing the gruesome scar below her collarbone, which Lynn had stitched up himself.

For her, it wasn't a scar, but a new life Lynn gave her, a mark that belonged only to her.

"Cleaning the floor? You probably won't even hear a firecracker going off, sir."

Natasha parted her red lips slightly and uttered a whisper filled with deep sarcasm.

Her long, slender fingers left afterimages on the floating Virtual Keyboard. The typing was as dense as a torrential downpour; every character she typed was robbing Stryker of the last bit of space to survive in this world.

Natasha's voice reached Lynn's ears on the top floor through the communication channel. She spoke quickly, with a hint of barely suppressed fervor and a slightly panting, boastful tone.

"Boss, I intercepted Stryker's distress signal. By the way, I used S.H.I.E.L.D.'s level 9 backdoor to hack into North America Aerospace Defense Command's internal network."

Inside the top-floor office.

Lynn sat on the large Genuine Leather Throne, his fingertips casually stroking the cold glass of the goblet.

Dozens of Holographic Projection screens floated in mid-air in front of him. On one of the screens, Natasha's operating interface and surveillance footage from inside Stryker Base were clearly displayed.

"The fighter jets at Andrews base had just finished warming up when I formatted their control tower system. Now, those pilots can only sit in the cockpit and listen to mute messages."

Natasha's voice grew increasingly excited, like a cat displaying its prey to its master.

"Not only that, I locked all the physical blast-proof doors to his underground Rat Hole, cut off the backup power to the ventilation system, and even changed the detonation code for his nuclear bomb to your name."

Lynn watched Stryker on the screen, wandering around the Main Control Room like a headless fly, and a cold, emotionless smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.

This is the terrifying aspect of overwhelming intelligence.

When your eyes, ears, and even hands and feet are taken over by others, no matter how sharp the gun in your hand is, it's just a piece of scrap metal.

Natasha paused, and a hint of sarcasm suddenly appeared in her tone.

"Forced demolitions may look impressive, but those little girls who only know brute force have no idea how to corner their prey. Boss, I'm your most indispensable eyes and hands."

She said that on a public communications channel on purpose.

In mid-air, Wanda and Susan, who were rushing towards the coordinates of Stryker Base at full speed, clearly also heard this blatant provocation.

"Shut your mouth, you sewer rat." Wanda's voice was icy cold, the surrounding air crackling with sonic booms from the surge of magic. "Once I uproot that base, I'll burn your Supercomputer Center down too."

"You can try," Susan sneered, "But before you burn her computer, I'll snap your neck first. This is my building."

"Shut up, all of you."

Lynn uttered a few words calmly.

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable and absolute pressure.

The Public Channel fell silent instantly. The three women, who had been at each other's throats just moments before, seemed to have been muted. None of them dared to provoke him at this moment.

Lynn swirled the red wine in her glass, her gaze falling on Natasha's personal screen.

"Very."

Lynn's voice was calm, yet it struck Natasha's heart with precision, "Natasha, you got ten points in tactics. Well done. You successfully turned him into a dead rat locked in a metal box."

Inside the underground Supercomputer Center.

Upon hearing this, Natasha shuddered uncontrollably.

She clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, and the morbid obsession in her eyes almost overflowed. She had done it. She had carved out a piece of territory of her own, in the face of women with earth-shattering power.

The Pentagon, 600 meters underground.

Stryker slumped onto the cold metal floor, panting heavily.

The lights in the Main Control Room began to flicker, then went out completely. The backup power was cut off, leaving only a few dim emergency red lights flickering overhead.

The sound of airflow in the ventilation ducts also stopped.

The oxygen supply was cut off.

On the only screen still lit up in the very center of the console, a red hourglass icon appeared.

That's Black Widow's signature.

Stryker stared intently at the hourglass, his pupils dilated.

He's out of cards.

The Sentry Prototype, which cost billions, was reduced to scrap metal; the distress signal was completely blocked; even the self-destruct button, designed to kill itself, became a useless plastic decoration.

He became like a mouse trapped in a completely sealed metal box, with even the air he was breathing being sucked away little by little.

"Devils... you are all devils..."

Stryker clutched his head, letting out a desperate sob. He finally understood that he hadn't provoked any Mutants, but a terrifying being that existed above the rules.

Just then...

"Boom--!!!"

A deep, muffled thud came from overhead.

The entire underground base shook violently, and dust fell from the ceiling in a flurry. It was the Quake caused by an extremely strong physical impact.

Stryker jerked his head up, staring in horror at the metal dome above.

The top floor of the Baxter Building.

Lynn leaned back in his chair, tilted his head back, and downed the last sip of red wine in his glass. The sour liquid slid down his throat, carrying a faint, unsettling taste of blood.

He looked at the upper right corner of the surveillance wall.

On the radar scan interface there, three high-energy reaction points, glowing a deep purple, had already traversed a long distance and crashed heavily onto the ground directly above Stryker Base.

Scarlet represents Chaos Magic.

The deep blue color represents Invisible Force Field.

Pure white represents the Lethal Charge.

Lynn put down his wine glass and tapped his fingers lightly on the table.

"Go."

He whispered into the microphone, his voice radiating a languid air of complete control.

"Crush his bones, inch by inch."

The hunt has entered its final stage.