"According to the coordinates, this should be the place." Following Katie's cue, Ethan calmly parked the car, manually shifting it into place.
"Oh, we're finally here?" Deadpool practically bounced out of the car.
"I gotta say, your braking method earlier really got me thinking. Colossus could skip the whole driver's license thing entirely.
If the car ever lost control, he'd just need to drop his pants, plant his 'gear shift' into the pavement, and boom—instant emergency stop."
"Do you think I'm deaf?" Pete's massive hand clamped onto Deadpool's shoulder with a firm crack.
"Oh wow—oh yes—that's the spot. Feels just like crunching into a fresh bag of potato chips." Deadpool winced, then forced a grin.
"I can tell this grip strength is out of the league of us single folk. Alright, alright! I'll stop talking, okay?"
"Anyway, this is Francis' hideout." Deadpool turned to face the warehouse.
"After all my suffering, the vengeful warrior, Deadpool, has finally tracked his target to the final boss room. Let's check our gear. I just emptied twelve rounds. Anybody got extra ammo?" He looked expectantly at the group.
Pete and Katie exchanged glances, unimpressed.
"Okay, not gun users, I get it. So, what's the battle plan? We going for a classic tank-charge, DPS unload, healer backup? Wait—we don't have a healer. This isn't a well-balanced raid team."
"Plan?" Ethan echoed, shutting the car door behind him.
"We walk through the front entrance, introduce ourselves, and have a polite discussion."
Deadpool blinked.
"I dunno, Ethan. I don't think Francis is the 'reasonable discussion' type. That guy is more of a flaming bag of dog crap left on a doorstep.
And my plan involves returning said bag to the nearest toilet."
"That's fine." Ethan adjusted his gloves.
"We'll talk physics for a few minutes first."
Deadpool fell into silence, looking genuinely concerned for once.
Ignoring him, Ethan strode toward the warehouse with Pete and Katie flanking him.
Deadpool hesitated before following, muttering, "Why do I feel like I just got out-crazy'd?"
With a swift pull, Colossus tore the steel entrance door clean off its hinges.
"Who's there?!" Two patrolling guards spotted them immediately and rushed over.
"This area is restricted!" One guard barked, reaching for his radio. "You're not authorized to—"
Before he could finish, Katie casually touched his arm, and the next thing he knew, he was sinking into the ground.
By the time he processed what was happening, only his head was left above the surface.
"Son of a—!" The second guard pulled his pistol, aiming straight at Ethan.
He squeezed the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet ricocheted mid-air, reversing course.
It shattered his weapon before rebounding squarely between his eyes, dropping him instantly.
The echo of gunfire triggered a blaring alarm throughout the facility.
"You want me to shut that off?" Katie asked, eyeing the ringing alarm bell.
"Nah, leave it." Ethan scrolled through a data panel.
"If anything, this just makes things easier. Now all the guards will come to us. Check the research blueprints. We need to find the data center."
Ethan surveyed the facility, his expression calm despite the chaos. "Our goal is to understand this research institute. As for these people... anyone who gets in the way can be dealt with accordingly.
Bury the ones who deserve it, let the rest run.
I've already called the cops, so when New York's finest round up these strays, I'll just have Coulson pull some strings to take them off their hands.
I don't know exactly how they managed to create mutants, but rats like this should stay in the sewers where they belong. If they crawl out and make too much noise, they should've expected this outcome."
Deadpool leaned in with mock excitement.
"So does this mean I just stand back and call '911' while you guys clean house? Because I gotta say, I am really enjoying this whole 'winning by doing nothing' strategy."
Ethan turned to him.
"I heard that when you awakened your abilities, you went through hell in a place like this. So, instead of playing dead weight, why not let off some steam?
And if you happen to bump into an old acquaintance along the way... well, wouldn't that be a bonus?"
Deadpool perked up at that.
"Huh. Not a bad idea. Gotta admit, slicing is way more satisfying than shooting. Ever played Fruit Ninja? I love that game." He pulled out his dual katanas and lunged at a guard emerging from the corridor.
The gunfire and screams that followed barely fazed the rest of the group as they moved forward, navigating the research facility with unsettling efficiency.
Eventually, they reached what appeared to be a central laboratory.
Ethan pushed open a door, revealing a room filled with people restrained on hospital beds, their bodies grotesquely transformed.
Some were covered in jagged bone spurs, writhing in pain.
Others had metallic skin like Colossus, but their bodies were riddled with deep cracks.
A few displayed unstable mutant abilities, but one look at them made it clear—they weren't successes.
"Defective products," Deadpool muttered, yanking his sword out of a fallen guard's head.
His voice lacked its usual humor. "Mutation experiments don't have a great success rate. This? This is what failure looks like."
Ethan nodded. "Figures. This is what happens when amateurs play god. If they had a 100% success rate, now that would be shocking."
Deadpool exhaled sharply.
"Yeah, well, if Francis is behind this, I've got a score to settle. Where's the control room? I wanna see exactly what kind of twisted science project they've been running here."
Inside the control room, a technician frantically worked at a computer, downloading files while constantly glancing over his shoulder.
"96%...97%...98%... come on, come on!" he muttered under his breath.
"Oh, downloading something juicy? Lemme guess—'intense action videos' involving some hardcore bed-wrestling?
You know, I consider myself a connoisseur of such fine cinema. Maybe share a copy?" A voice drawled from behind him.
The technician barely had time to register the words before a blade pressed against his throat.
"Don't kill me!" he squeaked, hands shooting into the air.
"I'll cooperate! Whatever you want!"
Deadpool grinned, withdrawing his sword slightly.
"Good boy." Just as the technician sighed in relief, Deadpool grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him backward.
"Now tell me where that bastard Francis is. He was supposed to be here."
"He—he left! He was here half an hour ago!" the man stammered, terrified.
Deadpool's grip tightened.
"You gotta be kidding me. That slippery son of a—" He shook his head, sheathing one katana before cracking his knuckles.
"Alright, spill it. Where is he now?"
The technician hesitated before nervously clicking on a file, revealing a familiar photograph—Deadpool's girlfriend.
Deadpool stiffened.
His heart rate, for once, spiked not from excitement but rage.
"Of course," he growled. "Of. Fucking. Course."
He clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white.
"That smug piece of shit thinks he can use her to get to me?"
His breathing grew heavy, his mind racing.
Then, suddenly, he let out a sharp, manic laugh.
"You know what? Change of plans. I'm gonna find Francis, chop him into tiny little pieces, turn him into hamburger meat, and serve him to a goddamn Shar Pei."
...
"Alright, now that our friend has left, you can talk properly." Ethan said calmly, his piercing gaze fixed on the trembling researcher.
The moment the man had mentioned Francis going after his girlfriend, Deadpool had bolted in a frenzy, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by raw panic.
Ethan had signaled for Katie and Lu Fang to stay put, while Pete, unable to ignore his instincts, had dashed after Wade.
But Ethan's primary mission here wasn't just about Deadpool—it was about getting his hands on the research data on the X-Gene.
Wade was important, sure, but the discoveries hidden within this lab could change the game for mutantkind.
Francis and his team weren't exactly world-class scientists.
Compared to the facilities run by Emma Frost and Ethan, these guys were bottom-tier, scavenging scraps of knowledge.
Yet, what they lacked in resources, they made up for in ruthlessness.
Scientists from more reputable organizations had at least some ethical restraints.
They hesitated when it came to experimenting on human subjects. But Francis? He and his crew had performed hundreds—maybe even thousands—of horrific tests without a second thought.
To them, pushing the boundaries of morality was just another Tuesday.
"I'll tell you what you want to know—just don't kill me!" The researcher's voice cracked as he spoke.
"I know what we did was wrong, but I was just a low-level scientist! I had no power to stop these experiments, and I couldn't even protect myself. I had no choice but to go along with it."
Ethan studied him for a moment before offering a reassuring smile. "Relax. As long as you cooperate, not only will I let you live, but I might even give you a fresh start."
The man swallowed hard, nodding frantically.
"First question—who exactly are you?"
"We were originally researchers under the military's 'Weapon X' program, led by Stryker. The military covered for us as we conducted experiments on mutants. Stryker had multiple illegal underground labs running simultaneously.
But then… he died—suddenly and under mysterious circumstances. The military and the government turned on us almost overnight, wiping out everything connected to him. Francis led some of us in an escape and started operating on our own."
Ethan gave a small nod.
This wasn't anything new to him.
He already knew why Stryker's operations had been dismantled so thoroughly. It was because he had orchestrated it himself.
He had made sure Nick Fury handed the President the real intel about Stryker's attempt on the White House.
Once the President found out the truth, there had been hell to pay.
Even the usually untouchable military had been forced to cut all ties with Stryker, erasing his entire network in an attempt to smooth things over.
"There's something that doesn't add up," Ethan said, narrowing his eyes.
"Weapon X was always about eliminating mutants or controlling them as living weapons. Why would Stryker suddenly be interested in creating new mutants?"
The researcher hesitated before nodding.
"You're right. That wasn't our original goal. At first, we just planned to sell Weapon X data to interested parties. But the files we managed to steal were incomplete. And as you probably know, Stryker's research was deeply flawed. Once potential buyers realized that, there wasn't much of a market for it."
Ethan tapped his fingers on the table, his mind racing.
He knew more than the scientist suspected.
After all, he had taken those same files to Justin Hammer once upon a time, using them to manipulate his way into power.
Of course, at the time, he had other advantages—like having Emma Frost's telepathy at his disposal.
But Francis? He didn't even have access to the full files.
No way was he going to land himself a major player in this game with only scraps of information.
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Word count: 1840
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