Chapter 114 – Allen Takes Over Hydra
"Well said."
Clap clap clap...
Apocalypse stood up and clapped, expressing his admiration. "The day we rule the world shall be the day we control everything with a single hand. Very well said."
With such talent, why didn't he take the graduate school entrance exams?
Watching Allen bask in the spotlight, both Psylocke and Archangel looked on with envious expressions. Though grumbling inwardly, they still stood and applauded.
Allen pressed his hands downward, signaling them to keep it low-key, though he clearly enjoyed the attention.
"Boss, I'm sure you've gotten a deep understanding of me by now. After all, I'm a dazzling genius whose very farts carry the scent of roses," Allen said with relaxed confidence.
Apocalypse felt a deep sense of regret: "If only I'd met you thousands of years ago, unifying the world wouldn't have been a problem."
"Well, I'm here now, and I'll be the man silently supporting you from behind."
He'd said the same thing to the Ninja Master once.
"You're the first person to make me feel genuine happiness since I awakened. When the Mutant Empire is founded, you shall be its Vice Sovereign."
Apocalypse, usually solemn and reserved, was unusually talkative today. Clearly, he felt a kinship with Allen, someone who matched his temperament and ambitions.
Psylocke and Archangel, on the other hand, felt a wave of disappointment.
A lunatic had stolen the lead.
"I won't let you down, Boss. Anyone who stands in our way will be crushed to dust," Allen declared with firm conviction.
Apocalypse looked at him with the proud expression of a father.
Such ambition—what a driven child. What a shame he's insane.
"You all rest for now. I'll gather intel on Hydra."
Apocalypse could access television networks and gather information, analyzing it to extract intelligence.
If he could take over Charles's telepathic powers, he could control humanity in a matter of minutes.
Of course, that was impossible.
Not only would he have to deal with the Dark Phoenix's rampage, but Charles—ever the strategist—had backup plans.
He had a twin brother, a vegetative patient kept in secret, just in case. If something happened to him, his consciousness would transfer to that twin's body.
Frankly, who knew if it was truly a twin or a cloned backup?
Still, body-hopping and soul transfer were tricks only Charles could pull off—he was the most powerful telepath in history.
"Sis, I have a gift for you."
Allen called out to Psylocke, pulling out a pair of makeshift bunny ears. "I think your battle suit paired with this accessory will be even more deadly."
Her high-cut yoga bodysuit and the bunny ear headband—instant bunny girl transformation.
Where did the accessory come from?
Allen had pulled two steel wires from the wheelchair wheels and sliced off a pant leg from his hospital trousers to make it.
For an alchemist, whipping up a little gadget like that was nothing.
"I don't want it."
Psylocke shot him a cold glare, clearly furious at being flirted with. She wanted to form an energy sword and chop this lunatic into pieces.
"A lot of women have rejected me. Who do you think you are?"
Allen flopped dramatically onto the wheelchair. "Boss! Boss! She's bullying me! Is there no justice in this world?! She's picking on a mentally ill person!"
"…"
With a quick stride, Psylocke snatched the bunny ears and slapped them onto her head, growling, "You'd better hope I don't get a chance."
Throwing down that threat, she quickened her pace and stormed off.
Allen had originally intended to challenge her and knock her down a peg, but he didn't expect her to shamelessly shout back.
Sometimes you have to bow under a low roof.
Right now, Allen was Apocalypse's treasured asset. It wouldn't be wise to antagonize him too much—Apocalypse might just kill her on the spot.
"What are you laughing at, you damn pretty boy vase?"
Allen shot an annoyed glance at Archangel, who was smirking on the side.
Archangel's face turned grim and he walked away.
"I can't stand rubbernecking drama-loving bystanders," Allen muttered.
---
Inside a secret Hydra safehouse…
Several Hydra leaders were in the middle of a strategy meeting.
During World War II, under the leadership of Red Skull, Hydra had reached the height of its power, establishing vast influence within the Axis powers.
Unfortunately, after the war ended in defeat, they had to abandon their surface operatives and shift their core to a parasitic strategy.
Red Skull's battle with Captain America had left him missing, prompting Hydra's former tech division, Advanced Idea Mechanics, to strike out independently.
After four decades and several generations of hard work, Hydra had slowly gained a foothold within S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Our rise is unstoppable. In two or three years, once Carter retires, we'll begin infiltrating the core departments," one leader said excitedly.
Among S.H.I.E.L.D.'s founders, most were already dead or assassinated. Only Peggy Carter remained, holding her post.
Thanks to her seniority and the protection of loyal agents, they could only bide their time.
Meanwhile, they continued quiet infiltration, avoiding any reckless moves.
Some S.H.I.E.L.D. departments remained off-limits:
The S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy, where agents were trained.
The Wand Division, publicly called Sector 13.
The Armor Division, which researched multiverse countermeasures.
The upcoming S.W.O.R.D. program.
And the Pegasus Project, a joint venture with official government oversight.
Of these, Project Pegasus had the loosest security—Hydra had already begun infiltration there.
The Wand Division was protected by the Thunder Agents. The Armor Division had the Midnight Sons. Neither group was easily trifled with.
One leader suddenly asked, "What about them?"
Them?
Yes—there was a force above Hydra, hidden deeply from sight.
"No word yet. They may still be laying groundwork."
"I just hope I get to see the grand goal achieved in my lifetime."
"What grand goal?"
A new, unfamiliar voice spoke up.
All six leaders turned toward the sound.
At some point, four strangers had entered the room.
"Apocalypse!"
They instantly recognized the ancient mutant.
After all, it had been Hydra who passed along intel to Charles, leading to Stryker's school attack.
They knew exactly how terrifying Apocalypse was. Not one of them dared to move rashly.
The world wasn't short on geniuses. Devices capable of detecting energy radiation weren't rare.
Even when Hydra agents approached remotely, the equipment had detected overwhelming energy levels.
"The Iron Curtain of the Empire requests to return."
Allen made a strange gesture.
The six leaders stared, baffled. Who was this weirdo?
"What's with the attitude? Aren't you supposed to show some respect to your elders?" Allen sneered as he strolled over to the door.
Click!
Suddenly, the room lit up brightly.
Allen grumbled, "What's with the mood lighting? You made the room so damn gloomy. If we're going to be villains, we need some charisma, some speechcraft—not flashy theatrics. This is a novel, not a comic or movie. There's no camera to capture your atmospheric vibes."
"…"
The leaders exchanged glances, completely thrown off by Allen's thought process.
They could only wait quietly for his next move.
Hydra had endured worse indignities before—survival was the top priority.
"What do you need me to do?" Apocalypse asked.
"Boss, control them. Make them follow my orders, then wait for my signal to act," Allen replied confidently.
Apocalypse nodded slightly. With a wave of his hand, it was done. "I've implanted a psychic storm within them. If they disobey your orders, their minds will be shredded, leaving them as vegetables."
"Everyone, pluck three pubes."
Allen issued his first command.
"Over my—"
Before the leader could finish, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed on the spot.
The rest immediately reached into their pants and placed the hairs on the table as a sign of compliance.
"Psylocke, stay with Allen and keep him protected."
"Yes."
Apocalypse clearly didn't fully trust Allen, so he left Psylocke to monitor him.
As soon as he finished speaking, a protective barrier rose up. Apocalypse and Archangel teleported away.
Now, the remaining five leaders turned to Allen, awaiting their next instructions.