The severed transmission, Fury's utter terror before the screen
"Drop..."
A faint sound, almost swallowed up by the tinnitus, exploded deep within the cochlea of Crossbones.
The sound was more melodious than any hymn he had ever heard.
It's done!
In the final moments of his life, he exerted all his strength and finally grasped that last hope, pressing the button that connected him to the pinnacle of world power!
Excruciating pain surged like a tidal wave from his severed left arm and shattered internal organs. Every breath was accompanied by scalding hot blood foam, and his vision was shrouded in a Scarlet mist. But he paid no heed.
He struggled, using his only remaining right hand to prop himself up. His bloodshot eyes stared intently through the billowing smoke and dust at the Hell scene.
The former heroes, the X-Men, have now become soulless killing machines.
Their leader, pinned to the ground by his comrades, was forced to unleash that devastating beam of light, wiping his elite squad from the face of the earth.
And that Red-haired Woman, Jean Grey... she stood there, with a sickly yet satisfied smile, as if watching a perfectly orchestrated, bloody drama.
This is not betrayal.
This is... enslavement!
A terrifying truth that could send shivers down the spines of the entire world.
Nick Fury needs to know! The whole world needs to know!
"Hoo... Hah..."
Crossbones opened its mouth, using the last of its lung capacity, and let out a hoarse, desperate, yet incredibly clear roar into the Communicator flashing a faint green light on its chest:
"X-Men..."
"... become a lackey--!!"
at the same time.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion, Helicarrier, Supreme Command Center.
On the huge Holographic Screens, the life signals representing the STRIKE task force went out one after another without warning within just a few seconds.
From ten, to three, and then to one.
Finally, only the signal representing Captain Crossbones remained, stubbornly and faintly flashing.
The entire command center was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
All the agents and analysts stopped what they were doing and stared intently at the black screen that symbolized death; the air was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.
Nick Fury stood alone in front of the screen, his single eye reflecting the demise of data, his expressionless face revealing no emotion.
As the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.., he was already used to sacrifice.
But this time, it's different.
That wasn't a battle, that was... Carnage.
His elite task force, equipped with state-of-the-art weaponry, was completely wiped out in less than a minute.
The enemy is the X-Men.
This is something that is incomprehensible in itself.
Just then, an encrypted emergency communication request suddenly popped up in the center of the screen.
It's Crossbones!
"Connected! Highest Access Privileges!" Fury's deep, hoarse voice broke the deathly silence of the command room.
"Yes, sir!"
The signal was connected instantly.
"Sizzle--"
After a piercing crackling sound of electricity, a distorted face covered in blood and dust appeared on the screen.
It's Brock Rumlow.
He looked like he'd just crawled out of a meat grinder, but his eyes were frighteningly bright, burning with the final flame of something called "obsession."
Immediately afterwards, that hoarse, desperate roar, like the howl of a trapped beast, echoed through every corner of the command room via loudspeaker.
"The X-Men... have been reduced to lackeys!!"
For a moment, everyone was stunned.
Reduced to... a lackey?
Whose henchman?
This idea spread like wildfire in everyone's mind, like a virus.
However, they didn't have time to think about it.
Because in the very next second, the most bizarre and unforgettable scene unfolded on the screen, one that everyone will never forget.
The military-grade, robust Communicator made of Vibranium- based composite material that adorned the Crossbones seemed to be gripped tightly by an invisible hand.
"Snap--!"
It did not explode, it did not burn.
It was simply... squeezed into a dense, irregular lump of metal with a crisp, chilling metallic twisting sound!
Communication was cut off.
The image on the screen, along with that desperate scream, vanished.
Instead, there was only a cold, signalless expanse of snowflakes.
"Sizzle... sizzle..."
The monotonous hum of electricity became the only sound in the command room.
Nick Fury stood there quietly, motionless.
His single eye was fixed on the dancing snowflake, the pupil shrinking to the most dangerous pinpoint.
He had witnessed alien invasions, ancient evil gods, and madmen who could destroy half the universe with the Snap.
He thought he was no longer afraid of anything.
But at this moment, an indescribable, bone-chilling coldness slowly climbed up his spine, bit by bit, through his chest, choked his throat, and finally rushed straight to his brain!
That wasn't fear of overwhelming power.
That was utter dread—a higher level of existence that was completely incomprehensible, uncontrollable, and even undefinable!
Remotely, the system precisely locates and destroys communication devices the instant the Highest Encryption communication is established.
What terrifying control!
The X-Men have been reduced to lackeys...
Was Charles Xavier, the world's most powerful Telepathy, also enslaved?
The man in the Baxter Building... Lynn.
What exactly is he?
Fury felt his worldview, the intelligence empire and security Defense Line he had built up over his entire life, being mercilessly crushed to pieces by that unseen hand, along with that tiny Communicator.
Everything he was so proud of was nothing but a laughable, easily punctured paper tiger in front of the other party.
An unprecedented sense of powerlessness overwhelmed him.
Manhattan, on blood-soaked streets.
Jean Grey slowly lowered her hand, which had been suspended in mid-air.
Her telekinetic power, like the most intricate tentacles, crushed the Communicator while simultaneously severing Crossbones ' last vestige of life.
After she finished doing all this, it was as if she had casually brushed away a speck of dust, her face showing no emotion whatsoever.
Her cold gaze swept over the corpses lying scattered on the ground, then looked at her "comrades" who had risen again, their eyes numb and empty, awaiting her next command.
A perfect Sweep.
Although there was a minor flaw along the way, she ultimately resolved the problem perfectly in a more authoritative manner.
She believed her master would be satisfied.
Just then, an indescribable, warm feeling flowed quietly through the Dark Gold Throne Brand deep within her soul.
The feeling was slight, brief, yet incredibly clear.
Like a fleeting glance.
A glimpse of approval emanating from the Throne.
Jean Grey's body trembled slightly as an extreme, morbid ecstasy surged from the depths of her heart, washing over her entire body.
Her breathing became rapid, her cheeks flushed an unnatural red, and in her Dark Gold eyes burned a flame more intense than the Phoenix Force, a flame called "devotion".
It's been accepted by its owner!
She offered her master... a perfect sacrifice!
However, this unnoticed praise from within the Negative Zone Prison was like a drop of ice water thrown into boiling oil.
Deep within the prison folded beneath the Baxter Building, two pairs of eyes, both sensing that glance, instantly turned cold and envious.
Scarlet Chaos Magic and pitch-black Death Force quietly condensed in a corner unnoticed by anyone.
A new and even more insane Shura Field has been ignited.