The call ended.
The fury on Nolan Locke's face vanished in an instant, as if the man who had been seething with rage moments ago had never existed at all.
The blood around him did not stir even the slightest discomfort.
There was no helping it. As much as he disliked admitting it, he had seen far too many scenes like this already.
Nolan placed another call.
This time, the person on the other end was General Ross.
If he was going to strike the Hulk Hunter Base, there was no chance he would do it quietly.
He had to make General Ross, and the hardliners behind him, fully aware of his anger and the reason he was taking action.
Because having a reason and having none were two entirely different things.
Without a legitimate justification, this would become nothing more than a terrorist attack. After that, he would be forced into open conflict with a sovereign power.
And the outcome would be obvious.
At his current level, he would lose without question.
But with a proper cause, combined with backing from the conservatives and a display of his own strength, the situation could still be contained within certain limits.
When General Ross saw the caller ID, his eyes narrowed.
Nolan Locke?
Why was he calling at a time like this?
Where was the Death Squad?
Today was supposed to be the day they made their move. So why was Nolan Locke calling him now?
Countless possibilities flashed through Ross's mind.
After only a few seconds of hesitation, he answered.
"Nolan Locke. I don't see any need for further communication between us. Or have you finally agreed to my proposal?"
The corner of Nolan's mouth curved slightly, his voice calm and steady.
"General Ross, thank you for your concern."
Those words made Ross's heart jolt, a sense of unease creeping in.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Just a moment ago, a group of people attacked Locke Technologies. Unfortunately for them, I already know who they are. They came from a place called the Hulk Hunter Base."
Nolan paused briefly, then continued.
"And coincidentally, as far as I know, that base happens to be under your command."
"I will not explain anything," Ross snapped. "If you intend to slander me, the law will teach you the consequences of that choice."
Ross's heart sank.
At the same time, his expression darkened.
Those useless fools. Failing the assassination was bad enough, but now their origin had been exposed.
Damn it.
"You have anything else to say?" Ross growled. "If not, this conversation ends here."
As he spoke, Ross moved to hang up.
That was when Nolan's voice drifted through the line, low and chilling.
"General Ross, unfortunately for you, I am not a patient man. So I will be taking revenge."
"You bastard. What are you trying to do? Attack a military base?"
Ross roared into the phone, but all he heard in response was the flat tone of a disconnected call.
Staring at the dead screen, Ross's face twisted with rage.
He slammed the phone to the ground.
Revenge?
Nolan Locke was nothing in the face of the military.
If he truly dared to do something so outrageous, then he would have no one to blame but himself.
"Full alert. All units."
The order went out immediately. Ross snorted, disdain filling his eyes.
He refused to believe Nolan Locke would actually dare to attack a base.
He had hunted the Hulk for years, and even the Hulk had never dared assault a base like this. Coming here would have meant certain death.
The Hulk Hunter Base was one of the most powerful military installations in the country.
Within moments, patrol numbers tripled. Tanks and rocket launchers entered pre-launch readiness.
Ross let out a cold laugh.
Now all he had to do was wait for Nolan Locke to walk into the trap.
Elsewhere, the conservative faction began to move as well.
If Nolan Locke was preparing to strike a military base, it meant the situation had escalated beyond anyone's expectations. War had already begun, even if it was still confined to a controllable scope.
It also meant there was no longer any path of retreat.
This time, they had to win.
What happened on Nolan Locke's side would shape everything that followed.
They did not need him to level the Hulk Hunter Base. They only needed him to make a scene there and leave safely.
A display of force. A demonstration of value. A clear expression of dissatisfaction.
That would be enough.
But if the Hulk Hunter Base were actually wiped out, the consequences would be far more complicated.
That should not happen.
No one possessed power on that level.
Time passed, second by second.
The entire Hulk Hunter Base was on high alert.
No one knew exactly what was happening, and most of them did not care.
"Hey, Bob, why do you think they ordered a lockdown?"
Inside a close-in weapons platform, a four-man team watched the perimeter while chatting idly.
"Who knows? Maybe the Hulk's coming to attack."
"God, that's not funny. If that big guy shows up here, our guns will tear him apart."
They were not boasting.
The close-in weapon systems were designed to annihilate intruders. And intruders did not just mean infantry. Even tanks made of solid steel fell under that category.
The sheer firepower and rate of fire were a nightmare for anything that dared approach.
More importantly, there was more than one such system here.
And this was only one layer of the base's defenses.
Inside the base were countless other measures, each of which they believed could kill the Hulk.
That confidence was their foundation.
"Whatever. It's probably just another emergency drill. You know how it is. We deal with abnormal threats. We can't afford to relax."
As they spoke, the observer suddenly frowned.
"That's strange. Was that thing there before?"
The others froze.
Then, without warning, a thunderous explosion erupted beside them.
Their pupils shrank.
Before they could react, several more explosions followed, the nearest one detonating directly beneath their feet.
The next instant, flames swallowed everything.
"Enemy attack! Enemy attack!"
Amid countless shocked shouts, the piercing alarm blared across the base.
In the span of just a few seconds, more than seventy percent of the outer close-in weapon systems had been destroyed.
It happened too fast for any meaningful response.
Then, in their line of sight, strange, massive armored vehicles came hurtling toward the base at full speed.
"Fire! Open fire!"
"Destroy them!"
They might not have understood what was happening, but they knew one thing clearly.
They were at war.
Even so, despite the volume of the shouting, few orders were immediately carried out.
The enemy was still closing in and had not yet reached optimal firing range.
Only the remaining close-in weapons began spewing fire.
Their firepower was immense, and several armored vehicles were quickly hit.
Yet even then, the effect was limited.
Large numbers of troops disembarked from the vehicles.
No.
Sharp-eyed soldiers quickly realized those were not troops at all.
They were intelligent machines, moving in dense formations without hesitation or fear.
Though their appearances varied slightly, the soldiers recognized them.
Only Locke Technologies possessed this level of technology.
Many even knew their designation.
NS-5 Autonomous Combat Robots.
Mixed among them were several T-800 Terminator units.
More importantly, alongside these known models were countless machines they had never seen before.
Inside the base, General Ross stiffened as the reports came in.
Too fast.
So fast that he could hardly believe this was truly Nolan Locke's doing.
But once he heard it was robots, his face filled with rage.
He had received Nolan Locke's threat, but preparation on this scale, at this speed, could not possibly be improvised.
This was not revenge.
This was a premeditated rebellion.
And it confirmed what he had always believed.
Targeting Nolan Locke had been the correct choice.
If he had waited until Nolan was fully prepared, the danger would have been far greater.
As for now?
Ross sneered as he sat in the command center, watching the screens filled with swarms of robots advancing like ants.
Even with over seventy percent of the close-in systems disabled by surprise tactics, did Nolan think a horde of machines could frontal assault a fortified base?
It was a fantasy.
Ross was not afraid in the slightest.
The close-in weapons performed exactly as expected.
Tanks and pre-deployed fire points joined the assault.
The robotic army moved fast.
Even so, under the overwhelming firepower, their losses were severe.
Ross smiled.
He enjoyed this kind of war.
"Send the order. The moment the enemy retreats, pursue immediately."
"With a force this large, they must have a mobile command unit."
It was a sound judgment and the only logical conclusion.
Controlling a robotic legion required immense computational power, something only a supercomputer could provide.
Such hardware was not easily portable.
That was true.
In Nolan's original world, after years of development, Locke Technologies could conduct limited long-range control. Even then, a relay system near the battlefield was still required.
But now, Nolan was no longer confined to flesh and blood.
He had become data itself, roaming freely through the network.
He bypassed Red Queen entirely and took direct command of the war.
"Activate the T-Oathguard self-propelled artillery. All units."
At the command of his consciousness, the support units moved.
Nolan's awareness split into hundreds of streams, dispersed across the battlefield, adjusting and directing the mechanical army in real time.
The soldiers, having recovered from the initial shock, began their counterattack.
The first strike had been terrifying, but once they realized their enemies were little more than moving targets, confidence surged.
War, after all, was humanity's domain.
Then came the boom.
The first artillery blast roared from within the mechanical army.
A second followed. Then a third.
Shrill whistles tore through the air.
Faces drained of color.
The ground trembled as hundreds of shells slammed into their positions.
Watching this, Ross's face turned ashen.
What was happening?
How could Nolan Locke possess this much heavy weaponry?
More than that, why did the attacking units move with such flexibility?
He saw it clearly.
The artillery pieces were self-propelled.
When advancing, they moved with the army. When firing, they deployed stabilizing legs. After firing, they relocated immediately.
Every machine on that field was, in his eyes, a perfect instrument of war.
How could Nolan Locke possibly own so many advanced weapons?
Ross knew Nolan had developed many technologies, but he had never imagined this scale.
Regret flickered through him.
If he had not severed ties with Locke Technologies, even without the Mjolnir Armor, he might have obtained these automated war machines.
But regret came too late.
Ross's expression twisted with fury.
Since Nolan Locke dared to attack a military base, he had to die here.
Otherwise, what authority would the army have left?
Fortunately, Ross still had options.
"The Destroyer missiles are ready. Awaiting authorization."
A soldier looked to Ross, awaiting his command.
Even with the battle underway, the deployment of true heavy missiles required approval.
Ross glanced at the battlefield.
"Fire."
"Use our firepower to annihilate the invaders."
The next second, several missiles launched from the base.
Blinding white trails streaked across the sky, visible even in broad daylight.
Moments later, they struck.
The earth shook violently as dust and debris surged skyward, burying everything in sight.
Ross sneered.
This was humanity's power.
This was the power of the military.
No challenger could escape such force.
Just as he basked in that certainty, a figure flashed through the smoke.
In the blink of an eye, it burst out of the dust cloud.
No, not one.
Dozens.
"The Mjolnir Armor."
Ross's expression hardened.
The very thing that had fueled his greed, the reason he had moved against Nolan Locke.
And now, those armors were coming straight for him.
Ross's face turned cold.
So this was Nolan Locke's trump card.
If that was the case, then Nolan would learn a harsh lesson.
The weapon he relied on so dearly was worthless in real war.
"Fire!"
"Full fire. Bury them in it!"
He would not lose.
Mjolnir Armor?
It only had value when he decided it did.
Right now, it was nothing more than scrap metal.
He would make Nolan Locke understand that before the might of the military, everything else was insignificant.