During his earlier stage as a special infected, Marcus could only be considered the master of zombies — not the master of the zombie virus itself. He could command the undead, yes, but he had no authority over how the virus evolved or spread. Now, with the Pathogen Gene Enhancement System unlocked, he finally wielded complete control — not just over the movement of the infected, but over the very direction of virus evolution.
A Virus Proginitor — that was what truly defined one capable of commanding the fate of the zombie virus. It was the first true threshold toward the destruction of the Marvel universe.
Marcus had now reached that crucial first step. But it was only the beginning.
He knew from the start that the two ways to obtain DNA enhancement points were vastly different. The large-scale "cultivation route," where one relied on mass civilian infection, was now impossible. Countless nuclear warheads were already trained on him; any sign of massive expansion would trigger instant annihilation. Holding New York's Queens District — with its one million infected — was already an accomplishment in itself.
That left only the second option — the predatory route: hunting and assimilating large numbers of superheroes and supervillains.
But attacking entire hero teams like the Avengers, Fantastic Four, or X-Men was pure suicide. Likewise, raiding villain organizations such as Hydra, the Brotherhood of Mutants, or the Hellfire Club was no easier — some of them were arguably even stronger than the heroes. As for isolated vigilantes or lone villains, they were scattered all across the globe, and Marcus simply didn't have the time to hunt them one by one.
Fortunately, there existed one ideal place — a single location that gathered countless supervillains together, all stripped of their power, separated from one another, and utterly defenseless.
A prison.
Yes, it was time to launch a grand-scale prison raid.
Of course, such an operation required meticulous planning. The last mission — Operation Extremis — had gone off the rails thanks to the unexpected interference of Deadpool, Daredevil, and the Punisher. Marcus couldn't afford that kind of chaos again.
As always, the first step of any successful operation was information gathering. Previously, this responsibility fell to Hawkeye, who had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. for Marcus. But now he had a far more valuable agent — none other than Tony Stark, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Security Consultant.
Marcus shifted his consciousness back into the body stationed in Tony's underground laboratory. When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on a reinforced alloy table, surrounded by medical equipment aimed directly at him. His arms and legs were restrained tightly — like a test subject awaiting dissection.
"Well, well. You're finally awake," Tony said, twirling a scalpel between his fingers with a mischievous grin. "Bad timing though — I was just about to take you apart again."
Marcus chuckled calmly. "I don't mind, as long as you've finished the device I asked for."
Tony smirked. "You're talking to Tony Stark. Of course I finished it."
He released Marcus's restraints, then picked up a sleek, futuristic helmet from the nearby workbench. Its curved lines pulsed with a faint blue glow as he handed it over.
"This is your Mutant infected mental-link simulation helmet. It can't connect to mutant infected like you or me, and it won't receive your direct control signals — it can only command standard zombies. The control priority is the lowest tier, and its range is extremely limited — you can only control about ten at once. Honestly, I don't see what use this toy could have."
Marcus took the helmet, smiling faintly. "Toys, Tony — are made to be played with. Just not by us."
He turned the helmet over in his hands, satisfied. To him or the higher-level infected, it might be nothing more than a trinket — but to ordinary humans, it would be a priceless weapon.
Like the other mutant infected, Tony had awakened a unique ability through his activated X-gene — super-accelerated cognition. His brain now processed information ten times faster than an ordinary human's, vastly improving his efficiency. That explained how he managed to design and build such advanced equipment in a single night. The ability suited him perfectly.
Securing this crucial piece of equipment pleased Marcus immensely. He handed the helmet back to Tony and gave precise instructions:
"Good. Now, send this helmet — along with a few additional 'gifts' — through black-market channels to Hydra's secret base in Sokovia. If you use just one aircraft, you should be able to avoid S.H.I.E.L.D.'s surveillance, correct?"
Tony nodded. "One plane, yes. But that's the limit — a small, single-pilot aircraft. It can't make frequent trips, either. Even with my clearance, S.H.I.E.L.D. has tightened border control to the extreme."
"One flight is all I need," Marcus replied calmly. "The cargo is small, but important. Oh, and Tony — do you know about the Raft Prison?"
The Raft — a high-security, ocean-based supermax prison designed specifically to hold enhanced criminals. It was located near Riker's Island in New York. In Captain America: Civil War, it was where anti-registration heroes were detained at the end of the film. In terms of villain density, it was the perfect target for Marcus's next move.
Tony caught the gleam in Marcus's eyes and immediately understood what he was planning. "The Raft — one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s maximum-security facilities. It's older than I am, and its internal blueprints are classified at the director's level. Of course, if you really want them, I could hack them for you."
Marcus shook his head. "No. That would blow your cover far too early. Once that happens, Fury wouldn't even need proof — he'd figure it out by process of elimination. That's not something I can afford."
"Got it," Tony said. "So I keep playing my part?"
"Exactly," Marcus confirmed. "Keep your cover intact and continue your research. If Fury asks about me, tell him I'm willing to return to S.H.I.E.L.D. — and explain that you plan to recommend me for the Avengers Initiative."
Everything was falling into place. Each step was deliberate, precise, and silent.
A new storm was brewing — one that would soon engulf the entire world.
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