Network tracing, Lynn's judgment from afar
Stryker gripped the red physical control lever tightly with both hands.
His rough palms were chafed raw, blood mingling with sweat and smearing onto the cold metal. He forced out a dying Beast -like roar, pressing down with all his weight.
Click.
The lever bottomed out, and the sound of the mechanical latches engaging was exceptionally clear in the dimly Main Control Room.
Stryker closed his eyes. The muscles at the corners of his eyes twitched wildly. He was waiting. Waiting for the Reactor Core, 600 meters underground, to eject its cooling rods, waiting for the tens of millions of degrees Celsius to erupt instantly, evaporating everything here, including those monsters.
One second. Two seconds. Five seconds.
Only his heavy breathing echoed. There was no vibration, no red countdown light, and the floor temperature didn't even rise by half a degree.
Stryker's eyes snapped open. His pupils were dilated with extreme terror. He frantically pushed the lever up and then yanked it down.
Empty.
The metal rod connecting to the deep hydraulic system felt as light as a hollow plastic tube, offering no resistance whatsoever.
"What's going on... why isn't it responding!" Stryker slammed his knees onto the metal floor, gripping the lever and shaking it frantically. His fingernails split, and blood streamed down the metal bar.
"Because thirty seconds ago, Gwen Stacy had already cut the physical valve of your pipe into eight pieces along the ventilation duct."
A languid voice suddenly boomed in the cramped Main Control Room.
Stryker turned his head stiffly. On the large screen in the center of the console, the red hourglass mark left by Natasha faded away like ripples on water. The screen lit up.
The top floor of the Baxter Building.
Lynn leaned back in the large leather chair. The cold air from the central air conditioning blew against his open shirt collar. He held a half-empty glass of red wine in his hand, his eyes looking at a dead rat lying belly-up in a sewer.
"Well done, Natasha," Lynn whispered into the Communicator without looking at Stryker.
Inside the underground Supercomputer Center, Natasha's soft laughter drifted over. "Boss, his physical detonation device is too outdated. Gwen Stacy didn't even use high-voltage electricity; she just used a dagger to sever all the drive shafts. What he's pulling now is just a piece of scrap metal."
Lynn swirled the wine in his glass, the Scarlet liquid leaving viscous streaks on the glass. Only then did he turn his gaze to the screen.
"Lynn..." Stryker's teeth chattered, and he took two steps back, his back slamming heavily against the metal wall.
Lynn. This was the first time he had faced this man directly.
There were no three heads and six arms, no surrounding energy. Only a suffocating aura of superiority pierced his spine through the screen.
"General Stryker, your trump cards are always so... outdated." Lynn's voice was calm, devoid of anger, only pure mockery. "Disconnect the internet, pull the lever. You think I can't pull your teeth just because it's not plugged in?"
Off-screen, Lynn's fingers tapped lightly on the table.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound was amplified through the Main Control Room's speakers, becoming Stryker's death knell.
"You demon..." Stryker slid to his knees, his legs completely powerless. Sweat stung his eyes, making it impossible for him to open them. His proud base, the Sentry he had spent half his life building, were nothing more than a warm-up in front of this man.
"A demon?" Lynn chuckled, but the laughter didn't reach his eyes. "You experimented with Mutants cerebrospinal fluid, extracted X-Gene from slices of living people, and even created those scrap metal pieces to attack my building. And now, you call me a demon?"
Stryker opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Fear, like an invisible hand, gripped his trachea tightly.
"Fury used you as a scout dog, and you really thought you were the mastermind?" Lynn leaned forward slightly, his gaze through the screen carrying an absolute sense of judgment. "Why do you think Fury cut off communications? He'd already used you as a pawn. The Blind Spot Program? That was just bait he used to test my limits. And you were that stinking piece of meat."
Lynn's words cut through Stryker's pride like a knife.
"No... this can't be... the military won't abandon me! I have the core data of the Weapon X Program!" Stryker covered his ears, shaking his head desperately, trying to grasp at the last straw.
"Boss, I've locked onto all the military's satellites." Natasha's voice came through the communication channel at the right moment, with a ruthless, cat-and-mouse tone. "Even if he sprouted wings and flew away now, not a single fighter jet would dare to intercept him. He's been removed from the entire North America air defense network."
Upon hearing these words, Stryker's last line of Defense Line crumbled.
He crawled toward the screen, his fingers leaving glaring bloody marks on the console. "Let me go... I'll give you all the Mutants data! I have many secret labs, I can work for you! My Genes bank has..."
"Clang!"
The louvers on the ventilation ducts above the Main Control Room suddenly collapsed.
Stryker screamed in fright and curled up into a ball.
Gwen Stacy hung upside down from the ceiling, her white mask reflecting the blue light of the screen. She descended silently like a breathless ghost. She twirled the eerie blue dagger in her hand, high-voltage arcs leaping across the blade with a crackling sound.
"Lynn said you're too noisy." Gwen Stacy tilted her head, her voice tinged with a sickening obsession. "Should I cut out his tongue first? I can guarantee not a drop of blood will splatter on the screen."
Stryker stared at the dagger flashing with electricity, and a foul stench instantly seeped from his crotch. He had completely lost control of his bladder.
Lynn sat on the Throne, looking at the trembling military leader on the screen, a hint of disgust flashing in his eyes.
"Step back, Gwen Stacy," Lynn said calmly.
Gwen Stacy's hand, gripping the dagger, paused. Though filled with reluctance, she obediently sheathed her weapon, flipped backward, and disappeared back into the darkness of the ventilation duct. "Yes, my master."
Lynn's gaze passed over Stryker and landed on the meter-thick Titanium Alloy explosion-proof door behind him.
"You're too filthy, Stryker. You don't even deserve to die by my hand." Lynn's voice was soft, but it carried a cruel smile.
A muffled impact sound came from outside the Main Control Room. The entire space, 600 meters underground, trembled violently.
"Guess how much that woman outside the door wants to tear you to pieces right now?"
Stryker turned around abruptly.
The Alloy Door, touted as being able to withstand a nuclear blast, now had a blinding dark red spot of light shining from its center. Under the terrifying heat and the corrosive influence of Chaos Magic, the metal began to melt and drip like candle wax. The pungent smell of Ozone and burnt metal instantly filled the entire Main Control Room.
"No... no..." Stryker scrambled under the control panel, clutching his head tightly with both hands.
On the screen, Lynn pressed the button on the Communicator.
Wanda.
"I'm here, darling." Wanda's sweet yet chilling voice came from outside the door. The voice pierced through the heavy metal door and went straight to Stryker's eardrums.
"Don't let him die too quickly," Lynn gave the final order.
"As you wish." Wanda's laughter was laced with a violent sonic boom of magic. "I'll let him know that angering you has consequences longer than Hell."
Lynn cut off the communication and casually turned off the monitor screen.
The Main Control Room instantly fell into a deathly silence and darkness. Only the ever-growing Scarlet crack on the Alloy Door emitted a deadly red light.
Stryker huddled in the corner, listening to the sharp sound of the door being torn apart bit by bit.
"Boom--!"
The gate collapsed with a crash.
Scarlet, Chaos storm, carrying metal debris, surged into the Main Control Room. A pair of red eyes, burning with a morbid killing intent, locked onto their prey on the ground in the darkness.