The Mutants' movements couldn't be described as loud, but for Stryker at this moment, even the slightest disturbance would arouse his vigilance.
His plan had reached this stage, and he naturally couldn't let these Mutants stop him. To deal with this situation, he had already made ample preparations, whether it was the Soldiers under his command or the Mutants he had controlled.
Watching the Mutants already breaking through to the Base's entrance, Stryker waved his hand and said to his Deputy beside him, "Give the order: have those weapons hold the line. Soldiers, form up! We absolutely cannot let these Mutant bastards walk into this Base alive!"
"General, I see Magneto there. Our troops might not be able to stop them." The moment he saw Magneto, Stryker's Deputy felt a huge panic. A person's Shadow, a tree's name – Magneto's formidable reputation was enough to make anyone who knew him feel fear, especially after he displayed his god-like power in Paris.
"I said, don't let them take one step into this Base alive." Stryker drew his sidearm and pressed it against the Deputy's head. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
"No, Officer. I'll go deliver the order right now!" Cold sweat instantly streamed down his forehead. Compared to Magneto, the gun barrel against his own head was more intimidating.
The Deputy almost scrambled away from Stryker. As Stryker's Deputy, he understood how unstable Stryker's mental state was at the moment. In this period, he truly could do anything imaginable.
Watching his Deputy disappear from sight, a cold and cruel light gleamed in Stryker's eyes. In the final stage of his plan, all his subordinates became capital for his revenge.
And he was like a gambler, piling all his capital onto the table little by little. Success meant the success and end of his revenge, while failure meant everything he had would turn to dust. For him, there was actually no difference. His entire life was merely a process of seeking destruction, whether it was destroying himself or destroying Mutants.
"Mutants will definitely disappear from this World," Stryker said to himself as if making a firm decision, then pushed open the door behind him.
Behind the door, a spherical space paved with steel appeared before his eyes. Layers of steel, like scales, covered every corner of this space. Aside from these scale-like steel plates, the place was virtually empty. Only a sky bridge extended from the front of the door, plunging straight into the center. Upon closer inspection, one would realize that this place was actually no different from the room where the Xavier School's Cerebro was located.
And on the sky bridge inside this room, a familiar figure sat steadily. A crisp suit, a shiny bald head, and calm, wise eyes. It was Professor Charles, whom Magneto and his group had been searching for a long time. However, in front of Professor Charles, there was another person present.
That was a rather frail and sickly looking fellow. He, like Professor Charles, was sitting in a wheelchair. However, compared to Professor Charles's energetic attire and expression, he was the complete opposite.
A faded, worn-out hospital gown, gray from repeated washing, hung on him like an ill-fitting oversized coat. His emaciated body was almost indistinguishable from a dried corpse; his muscles had completely atrophied, and blue Meridians were exceptionally prominent beneath his grayish-blue skin. His bones were extremely protruding on his body; whether it was his ribs or the bones in his arms and thighs, their complete shapes were almost visible at a glance.
His deeply sunken cheekbones exposed his extremely prominent eyes, and in those lifeless eyes, there was only stillness and blankness. And not just his eyes, but his entire face was like this—empty, with only stillness remaining. Behind his head, a large surgical incision was exposed, and from the vicinity of the already healed wound, there was no longer any sign of a skull. Clearly, he had undergone some tragic experiment.
"Charles, Charles. Just as we suspected. Your Mutant brethren really found this place; they've come to rescue you." Stepping to Professor Charles's side, General Stryker reached out and held his wheelchair, lowering his head to speak to him.
"It's not surprising, is it? But I still find it hard to believe, William, that you would do such a thing to your own son." Professor Charles's gentle gaze fell upon the sickly and frail person opposite him. "Does this mean that even Jason is unimportant to you compared to your revenge?"
"Jason, are you referring to my son?" General Stryker let out a stifled, low laugh from his throat. "I regret to say, my son passed away long ago. He left me along with my wife."
"I'm sorry, William. I'm sorry about your wife, but that doesn't excuse what you did to Jason. No matter what, he is still your son!" Charles closed his eyes. He always carried a sense of guilt for Jason, and this guilt made him somewhat afraid to face Jason in front of him.
"My son, ha ha ha!" William Stryker glanced at Jason, who was in front of him and Charles, and began to recount the nightmare that had tormented him for years into Professor Charles's ear. "I still dream now, dreaming of when my wife was still alive. At that time, Jason was just an ordinary Child, and my wife hadn't been tormented like that. Our family spent each beautiful day peacefully and securely. That truly is a beautiful dream I'd be willing to relive with everything."
"And whenever I have such a dream, I regret one thing, Charles. I regret why I sent Jason to your school. I entrusted my son to you, but you returned a Devil to me!"
"After Jason returned from your place, he began to torment us. I could see that he resented us, resented us for putting him there, resented us for abandoning him. He began to cruelly retaliate against us; he wanted us to die!"
Upon hearing this, Charles bowed his head deeply. He couldn't bear to open his eyes because he was afraid to see William Stryker's expression, which had already been driven mad by pain and despair. And William Stryker's story continued.
"Do you know, my wife could no longer endure the illusions Jason created. She begged me more than once to kill her to free her, or to kill our son. But I never had the heart. I couldn't bear to break apart this already crumbling family. I only wanted to wait, to wait for things to get better, to return to the days when our family lived happily. But, just like a broken porcelain, no matter how you glue them together, they are ultimately broken."
"Until my poor wife couldn't take it anymore. Finally, one day, she drilled through her own head with an electric drill right in front of me. Do you know, Professor Charles? My wife had a smile on her face at the moment she drilled through her own head. For her, it was just liberation. But for me, it was just the beginning of new torment."
"William, I'm sorry. But please stop. You have already caused too many tragedies, and these tragedies, like your story, are sad and despairing. You have already felt this pain, so why do you still inflict it on others?"
With the most complex emotions of his life, Professor Charles made his final effort to persuade him. He had tried his best for the tragedy of the Stryker family, but he was powerless. And now he was still trying his utmost, wanting to stop all the tragic stories that stemmed from this tragedy. But just like at the beginning, he was still powerless.
General Stryker tapped his skull with a strange expression on his face.
"You know, I was once mentally controlled by a woman, and she almost ended my life. Later, when I was rescued, I made a firm decision. No matter what, I could not let you bastards who can control minds control me so easily again. So, I had a small surgery."
"Your mind control is meaningless to me, Charles. But I need you to do other things for me!" Stryker reached out and forcefully pushed down Professor Charles's head, then injected a syringe full of yellow liquid into the back of his head. "I want you to atone for everything you've done. I want you to be the one holding Death's scythe in all my revenge plans."
"William, don't do this!" Professor Charles struggled desperately, but having lost his mental abilities, he was completely unable to resist William's actions.
"It's too late, Charles. It's already too late!" Watching Charles's gentle eyes gradually lose their expression, becoming dull and vacant, William Stryker's eyes revealed bone-chilling pleasure and madness. "Soon, you can take your damned Mutant brethren and all roll into Hell with me. Don't forget to say hello to Satan for me then!"
Unfortunately, at this moment, Professor Charles could no longer refute him. And this was exactly what General Stryker wanted.
With a malicious smile, he walked to his son, who had been tormented beyond human recognition, and whispered in his ear,
"He's yours, Jason. Now is your time to get your revenge on him."
A strange light quietly rose in Jason's lifeless eyes. He stared at Professor Charles, and a non-human smile appeared on his twisted face.
To be able to get revenge on his former teacher was truly the most satisfying thing for Jason.