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*****
Apocalypse—the most ancient of mutants.
Of all those present, perhaps only Logan truly knew how terrifying Apocalypse had been. And now, before them stood a Weapon Z, created from Apocalypse's genetic material…
Logan's heart turned cold. Almost instinctively, his eyes shifted toward Mac.
In this situation, their only hope was Mac.
He himself was no match for this enemy.
Then, unexpectedly, he noticed Mac—smiling?
"Pfft!"
Mac's shoulders trembled slightly as he stifled a laugh. Behind his back, the last remaining card in his hand dissolved into glowing fragments.
"'Terminator,' huh? He might as well be a T-800," Mac thought wryly.
Still, a Weapon Z made from Apocalypse's genes should indeed be formidable.
And that meant… at last, he could unleash himself in a real fight.
His smile grew wider, brighter, more eager.
Standing beside him, Gwen caught sight of her father's expression and couldn't help but smile herself.
She could faintly guess why he was happy.
If that was the case, then she too needed to give it her all.
Her hands clenched into fists. Blue flames flared to life, engulfing her body. Her suit appeared in an instant, and in the next moment she had transformed into a small skeleton wreathed in fire.
"Don't move recklessly," Mac called to her quickly.
Striker, watching, looked genuinely intrigued.
Such a power—he had never seen anything like it, not even once in his long life.
At that moment, Mac's voice cut through the silence of the cliffside, sharp and unmistakable.
"For an old man, you certainly do like to talk. But now… you're finished, aren't you?"
His tone was calm, detached. Step by step, he advanced.
Out of respect for age—and because they were "old acquaintances" (certainly not because he wanted to extract information)—Mac had tolerated Striker's rambling.
But now, it was time to fight.
Striker's gaze remained steady as he said, "Termination. Kill him."
At the command, Weapon Z moved like a machine being activated. Its eyes, devoid of emotion, locked onto Mac.
Mac shrugged. In the next instant, he vanished.
"Bang!"
A thunderous crash rang out as Weapon Z blocked Mac's first punch.
Then, both vanished from sight, disappearing from Logan's view. Only the deafening, continuous detonations in the air betrayed the intensity of their clash.
Logan clenched his fists, warily watching Striker and the dozen Y-type weapons standing behind him.
But Striker only chuckled faintly, his wrinkled face folding in on itself, his voice frail yet mocking:
"Relax. They won't act—for now. Let us enjoy the spectacle. This may well be the greatest battle left in this world."
Logan snorted coldly, but his eyes never left Striker and his creations.
Meanwhile, Mac—keeping a sliver of awareness on their side—heard Striker's words as well.
He sneered inwardly. Trust Striker? Never.
But he paid it no mind. While Striker had been stalling with his monologue, Mac had already layered multiple barriers around Logan and the others. Before the Y-types could break through, those defenses would hold easily.
Right now, there was only one thing Mac wanted: a battle fought without restraint.
Suddenly, his heart tightened. Weapon Z, who had been dueling him in midair, abruptly teleported away, opening distance.
In the next instant, its hand rose, unleashing a surge of psychic energy that spread across the sky. A vast telekinetic domain enveloped the battlefield, pressing in on Mac from every direction. The air closed around him like countless invisible walls, like ropes tightening endlessly, constricting his every move.
Mac gave a short, cold snort. As his black battle suit shimmered into being, he shot forward like a jet-black arrow, piercing straight through the field toward Weapon Z.
"You want to cage me? Then try!"
His blue eyes gleamed like frozen steel. His indestructible body hurtled toward his foe.
Crack—crash—crack!
Invisible barriers shattered one after another before his charge. He closed the distance in an instant.
But just as his devastating punch was about to land, Weapon Z vanished again—this time reappearing above Mac, a long leg chopping down like a battle axe.
Mac raised an arm to block, but the combined might of brute force and psychic pull hurled him from the sky toward the ground.
Before he could even hit, lightning and flame spiraled together from above, crashing down in a devastating torrent.
BOOM!
The explosion thundered across the cliffs. Mac's body slammed into the earth, carving a massive crater into the fractured ground.
Flames and lightning raged wildly, turning the battlefield into a blazing inferno.
The "spectators" atop the cliff stared in terror.
Striker's lips curled into a satisfied smile, while Logan's face turned grim.
From appearances alone, Mac seemed to be on the back foot.
"Heh."
In her Ghost Rider form, Gwen suddenly let out a small laugh. When Logan shot her a questioning look, she said softly, smiling, "Dad looks like he's enjoying himself."
Enjoying himself?
Logan's heart skipped. His gaze snapped back to the fight.
At that very moment, with a thunderous roar, the ground split apart. Cracks spider-webbed outward as a black blur burst from the rubble, streaking toward Weapon Z.
It was Mac—eyes blazing, expression alight with exhilaration.
He looked like a beast unleashed, finally free of all restraints, his entire presence radiating wild, unbridled ferocity.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Once again, the psychic domain trembled, cracking beneath the onslaught.
Then, two beams of crimson laser light lanced down from the sky, blasting toward Mac.
He growled, crossed his arms above his head, and charged straight through. In the instant Weapon Z reappeared before him, twin beams of scorching heat vision erupted from Mac's eyes.
"Ssshhh!"
The blasts seared across Weapon Z's chest, carving smoking scars and hurling it from the air down toward the earth.
Mac followed relentlessly, his body a spear as he dove feet-first from the sky.
"Boom!"
The earth wailed under the impact. Rocks and debris erupted outward in every direction.
But—he hadn't struck his target.
Mac's eyes narrowed. His enhanced vision tracked the shadow slipping rapidly underground.
Another ability?
He exhaled sharply. Weapon Z's arsenal of powers was proving far richer than he had anticipated.
And as it moved, its psychic domain shifted with it. The longer Mac lingered in one place, the more the invisible bindings closed in. By the time he locked onto the moving figure, he had already vacated the danger zone.
The next instant, Mac soared back into the sky—while Weapon Z reappeared like a phantom not far away.
And then, a sudden stream of memories flowed into Mac's mind, carrying with it a portion of his dispersed power.
Charles had completed his fusion. The shadow clone carrying that task had vanished.
Mac's gaze fixed on Weapon Z, his lips curling in anticipation.
"At last," he murmured, "things are starting to get interesting."
(End of Chapter)