Young Stryker slowly opened his eyes. The clear pupils that had once belonged to an innocent teenager had now been replaced by a deep, fanatical, otherworldly gleam.
He raised his head and looked at Sebastian Shaw, who stood before him with his hands behind his back.
Not a trace of fear or resistance remained on that youthful face. In their place were extreme fanaticism and absolute submission, like those of a zealot gazing up at his true god.
Without any hesitation, the boy slammed one knee onto the expensive carpet and bowed his head deeply.
"Master."
Genetic modification had stripped Stryker's voice of its boyishness, leaving it deep and hoarse.
"Your will is the sole mission of my life. I will plunge this world into an endless sea of fire and let Vought International... be utterly crushed in this catastrophe."
Solomon looked at the boy kneeling before him, his eyes filled with fanaticism, and gave a slight nod of satisfaction.
Just as he was about to take out a large quantity of Compound V to bestow upon him, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.
Wait... I probably shouldn't give him too much Compound V.
What if feeding this kid his fill all at once left Stryker obsessed with mindlessly mass-producing Supes through drugs, and he completely lost interest in brutally dissecting Mutants themselves and conducting research?
If Stryker didn't delve into Mutant genetics, who would lead the inhumane Weapon X Program in the future?
Who would infuse that lone wolf Logan with an entire skeleton of indestructible adamantium?
And who would torture that foulmouthed mercenary Wade Wilson into the undying Deadpool?
After a moment's thought, Solomon put away the excess doses, leaving only ten vials of deep-blue Compound V before Stryker.
At the same time, he activated Mind Control