Unexpected anonymous allegations, trust in the Negative Zone

Ultron's Iron Legion turned into molten iron and cold dust scattered all over the ground.

The data packet, which was forcibly broadcast as "Plan B," also exhausted its last bit of energy and quietly Oblivion into thin air.

The clamor of battle and the piercing creaking of metal all vanished.

The entire Negative Zone fell into a deathly silence that was even heavier than death itself.

The previously unified killing intent, forged in the shared struggle against the enemy, vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling stiffness.

Wanda's figure hovered in mid-air, motionless.

The Scarlet Mist surrounding her no longer spread outwards aggressively as before, but instead contracted and churned, like a living, yet directionless, blood-red fog, flickering uncertainly.

Jean Grey slowly descended back to the ground.

The bone-like ground beneath her feet silently began to crack like a spiderweb, centered on her. The immense mental power capable of crushing steel did not dissipate; instead, it pressed inward, causing her to emanate a dangerous aura of impending self-collapse.

Their gazes were fixed intently on the Throne.

It was nailed to the man who hadn't moved an inch from beginning to end.

Lynn remained seated on the Bone Throne, his posture unchanged.

He didn't look at the Holographic Image, but he could sense that the "anonymous whistleblower material" meticulously crafted by Ultron had been accurately delivered to every place it was needed to reach.

A document powerful enough to shake the very foundations.

An irrefutable piece of evidence that needs no further explanation.

Ultron's logic was clear: if a physical decapitation strike failed, then he would destroy the organization from within, from the very foundation of the supreme leader's power.

As it turned out, the effect was very good.

That unwavering, fervent loyalty, so just moments before so perfectly aligned and so full of fervent "protection of their master," has now shattered.

It shattered silently, yet completely.

Time seemed to freeze.

Every second felt like it had been stretched out to an eternity.

The deathly still air in the Negative Zone became viscous and stagnant due to the loss of control of two completely different yet equally terrifying forces, filled with the oppressive atmosphere before an impending storm.

Finally, Wanda moved.

Like a puppet stripped of all its strength, she slowly, bit by bit, shifted her gaze from Lynn's face to Jean Grey not far away.

The competition and hostility that used to linger in her eyes were gone.

All that remained was an empty, bewildered feeling, tinged with immense sorrow.

Then, she looked at the surveillance footage of the figure on the streets of New York who was carrying out a "refined stability maintenance" mission, exuding the Death Force.

Hela.

Finally, her gaze fell on one of the images that had just disappeared.

The blonde girl who fell into the Abyss from the top of the Clock Tower, accompanied by the sound of Silk snapping.

Gwen Stacy Stacy.

So that's how it is.

It turns out there was never just one.

She thought she was special, unique. She thought her competition with Jean Grey was a final, one-of-a-kind battle.

In retrospect, it was just a not-so-funny joke.

They are all just numbers in a sequence.

"He..."

Wanda's lips moved, uttering a broken, incoherent syllable.

She wanted to ask something, but found that she couldn't get any answers.

Who are those women?

The images have already provided the answer.

When asked why he did that,

That undisguised, soul-crushing affection also provides the answer.

Ask him... if he loves himself?

This question seems so pale and so self-humiliating in the face of those images of people dying for others.

Overwhelming feelings of injustice and betrayal, like a burst dam, instantly overwhelmed her reason.

In those Scarlet eyes, Chaos light flickered violently, no longer a controllable magic, but a pure, destructive impulse to completely erase everything in sight.

"Those emotions..."

Another voice rang out, cold, dry, with a metallic, friction-like quality.

It is Jean Grey.

Unlike Wanda, she did not show vulnerability and sadness.

Her face showed only an absolute coldness, the result of a collapsed faith.

"Images can be forged, and data can be tampered with."

Jean's gaze returned to Lynn, and she walked step by step toward the Throne, the bone-like ground beneath her feet crumbling with each step.

"However, that kind of emotional resonance that can shake the soul cannot be faked."

She raised her hand, pointing to her temple, where Dark Gold Phoenix Force burned at her fingertips like a candle of judgment.

"Especially, you can't fool me."

As a top-tier psychic, she could clearly discern the authenticity and profound impact of the emotions contained within those fragments of memory.

That was the mark left by Lynn's soul as it burned for another woman.

Each brand was like a red-hot carving knife, piercing her heart deeply.

Her self-righteous "exclusive favor," and the "Right to Be Alone" she painstakingly obtained, all turned out to be an elaborate deception in the face of this irrefutable evidence.

She is not the only variable.

She is just one of the many "candidates" who is currently in the lead.

It's not even in the lead.

envy.

An uncontrollable jealousy, like the most potent poison, mixed with the Phoenix Force, surged wildly through her body.

Ominous Dark Gold cracks began to appear in the air above the Negative Zone.

On either side of the Throne, the Scarlet Mist surrounding Wanda went completely berserk, transforming into countless wildly flailing tentacles. With each lash, it left deep, pitch-black gaps in the Spatial Barrier, leading to unknown Dimension.

Two forces, each capable of easily destroying a galaxy, have, for the same reason, descended into a synchronized, devastating loss of control.

They did not attack each other.

This is more terrifying than mutual attacks.

Because all their anger, jealousy, despair, and destructive desires found a common outlet.

Lynn.

The man who sat upright on the Throne, from beginning to end, did not even raise an eyebrow.

He single-handedly forged their loyalty.

Now, he is about to taste the bitter fruit of this loyalty after it has gone bad.

The entire Negative Zone, the absolutely stable power center that Lynn had built with his own hands, began to groan under the weight of its burden.

The structure is crumbling, the rules are collapsing.

An internal storm, powerful enough to overturn everything, has already taken shape.

Lynn was sitting right in the eye of the storm.

He looked at his two subordinates, who were on the verge of going berserk due to extreme jealousy, and sensed the impending collapse of this territory, but his face remained expressionless.

But in those unfathomable eyes, a very faint, almost imperceptible... displeasure flashed.