DC/Marvel: This Guy is Insane

Clang!

The last mutant plunged the dagger into Colonel Stryker's lifeless body. His hands trembled as he withdrew the weapon, dropping it in horror. Apocalypse smiled with approval at the mutants' decision. With a wave of his hand, the dagger dissolved into sand, and Stryker's body disintegrated along with it.

"Children, it's time to go home!"

With a word, a teleportation field enveloped everyone, transporting them to the Hydra base. The next step was to awaken their latent potential, one by one. Magneto lacked the resources to build an elite force, but for Apocalypse, it was no problem at all. He could elevate the power of even the weakest mutant. With his ability to unlock potential, he could create an army of elite warriors at will.

"Little psycho," Alan suggested, "why don't you get your potential unlocked too? It might fix your face."

"Little maniac, my face is beyond fixing. It's a deliberate choice by the Marvel editors. Besides, my regeneration has been fully developed through countless near-death experiences. There's no room for improvement," Wade replied. He was well aware that he had reached his limit. Unlocking potential involved many factors, most of which he had already experienced. His powers were passive, developing on their own without any conscious effort.

"What a shame," Alan lamented. "I really wanted to see the great Green Lantern, Hal Jordan, again."

"Shut up!" Wade fumed. "If you mention that shameful thing again, I'll fight you to the death."

"Okay, Green Lantern."

"…"

The National Security Council of the United States.

This agency was responsible for national security, including monitoring supernatural threats. Currently, the most pressing crisis was the mutant problem. Magneto's recent destruction of the Crassus Bridge had caused widespread panic. Too many people had witnessed it to be covered up. The question was, how do you put a bridge back together when everyone saw it happen?

A video file was sent to the agents' inboxes. The news of the Weapon X research base's fall and Colonel Stryker's death spread like wildfire. The higher-ups were furious. One crisis after another, all involving mutants. These repeated provocations were a direct challenge to their authority.

However, Stryker's case couldn't be discussed openly. Charles had made a deal with them to stop the Weapon X program, but Stryker had continued his research in secret. The Security Council, a government-controlled body with its own agency, A.R.G.U.S., to rival S.H.I.E.L.D., couldn't entrust the nation's safety to an uncontrollable organization. They had been building up their own corresponding departments for some time.

Under the spotlight.

The five chief council members unanimously decided to proceed with the mutant cleansing plan. Prevention was better than cure; they believed in nipping the problem in the bud. Their security philosophy was to eliminate threats at the first sign of trouble, not wait until they endangered society.

A man less than a meter tall walked into the conference room, flanked by two bodyguards in suits. Despite his dwarfism, the five chiefs treated him with utmost respect and solemnity.

Bolivar Trask, a leading expert in cybernetics, chairman of Trask Industries, and a man who viewed mutants as a grave threat.

"I am aware of what happened to Stryker," Trask began, expressing his condolences. "It is with great sorrow that we have lost another comrade on our shared path." He and Stryker were like master and apprentice, united by the belief that mutants were a cancer on human society that must be eradicated by any means necessary.

"Doctor, please get to the point," one of the chiefs interrupted. They wanted to see a weapon against mutants, not listen to a eulogy.

"Just in case," Trask said, "let me first demonstrate my latest creation: a mutant gene detector." He took out a palm-sized white oval device and scanned the room. "If there are any mutants present," he explained, "the green light on the device will turn red. The closer it gets, the more lights will illuminate."

After a full scan, Trask put the device away, relieved that there were no mutants among them. He knew that Mystique could impersonate anyone, making her a constant threat.

He opened his briefcase and handed a file to each of the five chiefs. As they read, one of them frowned. "Why is it still the Sentinel robots?" They had seen the Sentinel project before and had been unimpressed. The robots were too weak, and their cost was exorbitant. It was like buying a pile of scrap metal for a fortune.

"Look closer. This is the fifth generation of Sentinels," Trask said, pointing to a document. "The new Sentinels are designed with a hive-mind system, controlled by a supercomputer called Skynet. Each unit has elemental mimicry and shape-shifting capabilities, allowing them to adapt to different mutant powers. They can collect data through contact and upload it to Skynet, sharing it with the entire Sentinel legion. Moreover, their exterior is seamless, preventing infiltration. They are made of hardened ceramic, with an internal lava engine, and can cruise for five hundred hours at Mach 1."

The five chiefs' minds raced as they read the detailed description. The fifth-generation Sentinels could be used in conventional warfare. By collecting enough data from missions against mutants, they could be adapted to any battlefield scenario.

"Elemental mimicry and shape-shifting seem a bit far-fetched, don't they?" one of the chiefs questioned, skeptical. The first-generation Sentinels had looked like cheap plastic models. This fifth generation seemed too advanced. Were there no technological hurdles?

"Over the years," Trask said confidently, "I have acquired numerous research institutions and assembled a top-tier development team, all graduates from top ten engineering universities. I have invested tens of billions annually in research. You are welcome to visit and see the results for yourselves at any time."

"How long would it take to manufacture the Sentinels?"

"Trask Industries has already set up ten factories. As soon as the government places an order, the production lines will run twenty-four hours a day, producing twenty Sentinels daily." In reality, Trask had been preparing for this for a long time, stockpiling parts in anticipation of a government contract. All that was needed was assembly.

"We'll start with an order of one hundred Sentinels to test their effectiveness. We can consider further orders later."

"No problem." Trask remained outwardly calm, but inside, he was ecstatic. The Sentinels were controlled by Skynet, and he held the highest authority over Skynet. In essence, the government was paying for him to build his own private Sentinel army.

[Chapter Complete]

***

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