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Lancelot remained in Maxim's secret KGB base for a full three days.
During those three days, under the control of Geass, General Maxim spared no cost in erasing all information related to mutants. Every intelligence officer who possessed mutant-related knowledge was secretly executed.
Three days later, the location was still Maxim's private office.
After executing everyone who knew about the mutants, the crimson bird in Maxim's eyes vanished in an instant.
"My God… what have I done?!"
Maxim's gaze froze, and he let out a terrified scream.
He clearly remembered everything that had happened over the past three days—including the secret execution of his most trusted aide, the Red Room's Black Widow, Nyura.
It felt as if some terrifying demon had possessed him. Everything had spiraled completely out of control.
Even worse, within those three days, Maxim realized in horror that his execution efficiency, memory, and judgment had all risen to an unbelievable level.
He knew exactly how difficult it was to purge internal personnel from the entire KGB system.
Even for him, it should have taken at least a month—and even then, mistakes were inevitable.
Yet in that inhuman state, he had completed everything in just three days.
What terrifying power.
What a terrifying enemy.
"You devil… you're a devil."
Maxim stared at Lancelot with hatred and fear, as if he were looking at a true demon.
"So this is what it looks like after Geass is lifted?"
Lancelot coldly observed Maxim's breakdown—his soul seemingly hollowed out, leaving only hysteria and terror.
"Monster… monster…"
Maxim trembled uncontrollably. The Asian man before him could turn him into a demon with a single sentence. That realization filled him with absolute dread.
Lancelot merely watched in silence as Maxim cursed madly.
Everything Maxim had become under Geass was clearly reflected in his eyes.
Under Geass, Maxim had operated like a machine—his abilities massively enhanced, all negative human emotions stripped away, leaving only pure logic and relentless execution.
For three consecutive days, Maxim barely slept and felt no fatigue as he carried out Lancelot's orders.
This experiment gave Lancelot a deeper understanding of Geass—and of his own mastery over it.
"Emma, are you done reading his memories?"
Lancelot glanced at Maxim with contempt and asked calmly.
"Don't worry, my love. I've read everything—and it's already been firmly imprinted into Raven's memory as well."
Emma Frost held Lancelot's arm and nodded slightly.
"Good. My fellow mutants—end his suffering."
Lancelot turned toward the mutant squad behind him.
"Yes, my king."
Tank Fred replied firmly and stepped forward under Maxim's terrified gaze.
"Go to hell, monster!"
Cold sweat poured down Maxim's forehead. He pulled out his pistol, aimed at Fred at point-blank range, and pulled the trigger.
Bang.
The dull gunshot echoed.
Maxim stared in disbelief.
The bullet had been stopped by Fred's fat, completely losing its kinetic force.
This was Tank Fred's mutation—his fat absorbed impact and dispersed it harmlessly within the fat layer.
"I'll give it back to you."
Fred clenched his fist coldly and threw a punch.
Boom.
Maxim's body was instantly pierced through. He twitched a few times—and died.
"Raven."
Ignoring the bloody scene, Lancelot gestured calmly.
"Yes, my lord. I'm ready."
Mystique chuckled softly as her body rapidly transformed into Maxim Ivanov.
According to the plan, Raven would assume Maxim's identity and authority, secretly establishing a mutant base within the Soviet Union and recruiting Soviet mutants and scientists.
At this point, the Soviet Union had become Lancelot's rear stronghold.
As "General Maxim," Raven could freely mobilize hidden KGB agents and Red Room–trained Black Widows.
Lancelot sat in Maxim's office, smiling faintly as he observed the growing turbulence between the world's two superpowers.
While Professor X and Sebastian Shaw were still locked in conflict, Lancelot had already begun controlling the Soviet Union—and laying the foundation of his mutant kingdom.
"Bradley, help me contact Sabretooth—Victor."
Lancelot turned and issued the order.
Long ago, he had already informed his mutant team about Victor's existence.
Without hesitation, Bradley pressed his hand to his temple.
Bradley's mutant ability allowed him to control electronic devices with his mind. In theory, any electronic device on Earth could fall under his control—making him a human version of Ultron.
Of course, that was only theory.
At present, Bradley was barely at Level 4—still far from Level 5, let alone becoming a true human Ultron.
Still, his control methods were crude.
He could only mentally operate the satellite phone in the room and forcibly connect to Victor's communication device.
"My lord… the connection is established."
Bradley wiped the sweat from his face. He wasn't a telepath, and his mental endurance was no different from an ordinary human's. Forcing the connection alone had nearly exhausted him.
"Good work, Bradley."
Lancelot nodded calmly and picked up the phone.
"Victor," he said casually,
"do as you please. Unleash your power."