The Marionettes' Revel, Jean Grey's Psychic Meat Grinder

Triskelion, thirteen underground floors, Area C, Hydra agent dormitory.

Captain Marcus sat bolt upright in his cot, a fine layer of cold sweat beading on his forehead. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, as if trying to break free of the cage held by his ribs.

"What's going on?" he muttered under his breath, glancing around.

The dormitory was dimly lit, with only the green indicator light of the emergency exit casting a faint glow. The air was thick with the familiar smell of sweat, gun oil, and cheap disinfectant. Most of his teammates were still fast asleep, their snores rising and falling.

Everything is normal.

But Marcus knew something was wrong.

Just now, a cold, indescribable malice, like an invisible Probe, pierced his brain. Immediately afterwards, a woman's voice resounded directly in the depths of his soul.

"So... which one should we start with?"

The voice was soft and pleasant, yet it carried a morbid pleasure, like toying with prey, which made the hairs on his body stand on end instantly.

Is it a hallucination? Have I been under too much stress lately?

Marcus shook his head vigorously, trying to dispel the eerie feeling. As an elite member of Hydra, he had undergone the most rigorous psychological training, and his will was as strong as steel.

However, the next second, his pupils suddenly contracted.

A wisp of light, a Dark Gold light, like molten gold, seeped in without warning from the thick Alloy Wall. It wasn't light, but rather some kind of living, conscious energy thread.

These Dark Gold threads, ignoring any physical obstacles, silently spread through the air, weaving into a huge and intricate spider web that covered the entire dormitory area.

Immediately afterwards, the spider web lit up.

"Well..."

A recruit sleeping on the bunk opposite Marcus suddenly let out a painful groan. He jerked his eyes open, his gaze filled with extreme terror.

Then, under Marcus's horrified gaze, the recruit's mouth began to stretch uncontrollably upwards, his muscles contorting, eventually forming an extremely bizarre and dazzling smile.

"Hahaha..."

A dry, involuntary laugh escaped the recruit's throat. He slowly sat up, his movements stiff as a puppet on strings. His right hand, at an angle defying human biomechanics, slowly reached for the Tactical Dagger under his pillow.

"Rookie! What are you doing?!" Marcus shouted angrily, reaching for his sidearm at the same time.

However, his hand froze in mid-air.

An irresistible force, flowing through the Dark Gold network that permeated space, instantly took over his body. His brain screamed wildly, commanding his arms to draw his gun, but his body remained motionless.

He became a spectator imprisoned inside his own head...

"No... no!" Marcus roared silently in his heart, watching helplessly as the corners of his mouth began to turn upwards uncontrollably. The muscles in his cheeks twitched wildly due to the intense resistance, and finally, they too solidified into a fervent and blissful smile.

It wasn't just him.

At the same time, all the hundreds of Hydra agents in the entire dormitory area "woke up" from their slumber.

They all sat up, each wearing the same eerie smile.

The entire space was deathly quiet.

Only a few hundred smiles, stretching from ear to ear, formed a Hell picture in the dim light.

The revelry has begun.

"Pfft!"

It's that new recruit.

With a smile, he plunged the sharp Tactical Dagger into his own femoral artery, under his own lucid yet desperate gaze.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, the warm liquid splashing all over Marcus's face.

But this is just the beginning.

The veteran sitting next to Marcus, his best friend, a brother who would take a bullet for him, also had that damned smile on his face as he slowly turned his head.

"Hey, Marcus." His mouth moved, but his voice was flat and devoid of any emotion. "Your eyes... are beautiful."

Before he finished speaking, his calloused hands, strong enough to crush a person's throat, shot out with lightning speed, and two fingers plunged straight into Marcus's eye socket!

Marcus's consciousness was screaming, howling, and begging for mercy!

But his body simply smiled and remained motionless, enduring all of this.

Excruciating pain!

An extreme, soul-wrenching pain!

"Aaaaaaah--!"

A piercing scream finally broke free of the constriction in her throat. But this scream was distorted by that strange force, sounding more like some kind of extremely frenzied cheer.

At this moment, the entire lower level of Triskelion completely turned into a mental meat grinder!

In the corridor, two agents on patrol suddenly drew their P226 pistols from their waists at the same time, smiled, pointed the guns at each other's foreheads, and then pulled the triggers without hesitation.

Bang! Bang!

Red and white substances were splattered all over the wall behind them.

Inside the armory, the agents on guard were pulling the pins on high-explosive grenades with the utmost fervor, then happily stuffing them into their mouths or embracing each other.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions rang out one after another, and fragments of flesh and metal composed a symphony of madness.

Each and every one of them was perfectly lucid.

They could feel the coldness of the blade cutting through their skin, the heat of the bullet penetrating their bones, and the pain of their bodies being torn apart inch by inch.

They could see the same happy smiles on their companions' faces, smiles just like their own.

They could hear pleasant and satisfied laughter coming from their own throats.

Consciousness is Hell, the body is paradise.

This kind of mutual dismemberment in a state of absolute consciousness, this kind of extreme torture where the soul is nailed to the cockpit and watches helplessly as the body betrays itself and heads towards destruction, is ten thousand times more cruel than any other form of torture!

Top floor office.

Alexander Pierce could hear increasingly louder gunfire and explosions coming from below.

"Report the situation! Area C! Sector D! What on earth happened?!" He roared into the Communicator, his voice shrill with fear.

Sizzle... sizzle...

A piercing crackling sound came from the Communicator, followed by the intermittent screams of a young agent, his voice trembling with sobs and extreme terror.

"Devil... it's a devil! They've gone mad! Everyone... is laughing... is killing people! Help... help me... ah!"

After a chilling cracking sound like bones breaking, communication was completely cut off.

Pierce's body went limp, and he collapsed to the ground again.

Internal strife!

Inside his most prized Bastion, the most insane internal strife erupted!

Thousands of loyal Hydra agents turned into insane, self-destructive madmen in just a few minutes!

He's finished.

This thought, like a leech, relentlessly gnawed at his reason.

No!

Not yet!

Pierce abruptly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the sky outside the house.

The three enormous, towering Helicarrier, like suspended mountain ranges, still hovered there silently!

They are the pinnacle of Hydra's technology! The ultimate weapons capable of wiping out an entire planet!

As long as they are still there, as long as the Zola Algorithm can still be activated, he still has a chance to turn things around!

He couldn't care less about the chaos on the ground! He was determined to get the Helicarrier firing at all costs! To wipe those damned, tri-colored monsters in the sky, along with the entire Washington, D.C., off the map!

These three Helicarriers were his last and only lifeline!