Chapter 119: Everything Was Within Allen's Calculations
To address the mutant crisis, the authorities had poured immense resources into multiple initiatives. Restoring the serum was only one of them. Over ten billion dollars had been invested into the equipment used to produce the serum, so naturally, they wouldn't allow mutants to destroy it so easily.
The key element lay in the experimental subject who possessed the power to nullify abilities.
They had attempted to use clones to continue their research, only to discover that the power couldn't be replicated in cloned bodies. As a result, the experimental subject was treated with extreme caution—any sign of trouble led to their immediate secret relocation.
In truth, protecting the equipment was only a test.
It was true that the Brotherhood of Mutants wanted to build a society led by mutants, but they weren't completely deranged.
Magneto was extremely rational and measured in his actions. Knowing he didn't yet possess the strength to stand against the authorities, he avoided mass casualties in every operation. Typically, he would take out a key target and withdraw once the goal was achieved.
If things escalated into an open war, the Brotherhood's limited power would never be a match for the full force of the state.
And in such a case, the X-Men would undoubtedly stand aside. If the Brotherhood went too far, Charles would have no reason to rescue a criminal.
Of course, this didn't mean Magneto was merciful—he had hundreds of lives on his hands. But his caution was strategic, meant to preserve his power. Were he alone, he wouldn't hold back nearly as much.
As for S.H.I.E.L.D., this test was meant to gauge whether the Brotherhood's danger level warranted an upgrade.
Once confirmed that the threat had gone out of control, they wouldn't hesitate to execute their suppression plan.
If the equipment could be saved, that was ideal. If not, someone could be scapegoated.
After all, the Vietnam War still hadn't ended, and trillions had already been spent—what were a few extra billion? A fabricated accounting record and a public excuse would suffice.
…
"Well, well… Boss, just a few days apart and you're looking dangerously handsome—almost enough to threaten my status."
Allen led his team to meet with Apocalypse.
Natasha, the six Winter Soldiers, and Psylocke were all assigned to monitor him, so Allen couldn't actually command them.
"What's your plan?" Apocalypse asked.
He was gradually getting used to Allen's flippant tone—after all, a useful pawn could be tolerated.
"Boss, I've already spread the word: the Brotherhood of Mutants is planning a raid on the government research facility. When the two sides clash, we'll make a dazzling entrance and blow their minds," Allen said confidently.
"That wasn't your first move," Apocalypse said with a frown.
Last time, Allen had boasted about establishing his power base through Stryker. Why was he suddenly targeting the Brotherhood?
"Plans can't keep up with changes."
Sitting in a wheelchair with one leg crossed, Allen replied seriously, "You have to be flexible—don't rigidly stick to the plan."
Everyone took their seats, waiting for the new strategy.
Allen took out a carrot, pinching it between his fingers, took a deep breath, and exaggerated his composure.
"I thought you quit smoking," Archangel asked.
"I switched to cigars," Allen deadpanned.
Straightening up, he got to the point. "I leaked intel to both sides via HYDRA to provoke a clash. At the key moment, you show up and build your image."
"Build my image?"
Apocalypse frowned slightly. He had always relied on strength to suppress dissent and had no interest in playing mind games.
"Boss, our goal is to provoke a three-way battle so we can sit back and watch. If you step in too early, that defeats the purpose," Allen said as he bit into his carrot. "This incident gives us a chance to help Magneto, strengthen his powers, and tell him our vision of a mutant nation aligns with his Brotherhood. We offer goodwill, and at least for now, they won't be our enemy."
"Giving Magneto more power? You're creating a future enemy," Archangel immediately objected.
Everyone present was deeply embedded in mutant affairs and well aware of Magneto's relationship with Charles. They were destined to stand on opposing sides.
"I didn't ask for your commentary—let me finish."
Allen took another bite, a confident, sly grin spreading across his face. "Who killed Magneto's mother?"
The room went silent as everyone waited for Allen's answer. After all, no one spent their free time digging up that sort of trivia—especially when it wasn't their mother.
"The answer is the Black King, leader of the Hellfire Club."
Allen leaned back dramatically, arms folded, playing up the moment.
"When someone gains power, their first instinct is revenge. Magneto's been nursing this grudge for years. Once empowered, he'll go after the Black King, sparking a war between the Brotherhood and Hellfire. The X-Men, caught by their personal ties, will have to intervene, leaving them too busy to stop us. And then, with intel from HYDRA, we'll feed Magneto Hellfire's locations. He'll go hunting them across the globe. By the time anyone realizes what's going on… boom—we've already risen to power."
The logic was sound.
Magneto seeking revenge on the Black King would force Charles to side with his old friend.
The Hellfire Club was full of elite mutants, always stirring up trouble, and they were legitimate criminals. There was no way the X-Men would ever ally with them.
"Boss, one more thing: don't kill anyone yourself. We're building an image here—make it clear we're principled and restrained. That way, Magneto and his people let their guard down. Also, remember that a lot of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are actually HYDRA. If you kill them, we lose our insiders."
Apocalypse nodded slightly. "Very well. Before we achieve greatness, I'll follow your lead."
"Boss, with your talents, it's impossible to fail. If something does go wrong, it's definitely my fault—not yours."
Allen gave him a look full of admiration, stood up, walked over, and pulled a carrot from under his armpit. "Boss, if you're going to smoke cigars, you've got to commit to the aesthetic."
"No need."
Apocalypse had seen cigars on TV. The idea of one pulled from an armpit made his scalp tingle.
Allen sheepishly shoved the carrot back under his arm.
Just then, Natasha brought over a receiver. When she turned it on, audio from the agents' conversations played instantly.
"Damn it, that guy dismantled a whole bridge—he's trying to lay it between the mainland and the island."
"All units, recheck yourselves for any metal objects. Magneto can kill using them."
"Team A, bring the special-issue machine guns. Set up a firing point on the research center's third floor."
"Ghost sniper has free rein to choose a nest. Prioritize high-value targets."
"All squads, move to your designated positions as practiced!"
…
Hearing the steady stream of commands, it was clear that S.H.I.E.L.D. had made thorough preparations.
Apocalypse and his team weren't in a hurry. They would wait until both sides had worn each other down before making their move.
Rushing in now wouldn't achieve the desired effect—and could even backfire.