Mark, like a moving mountain, walked step by step towards the Vought Company Tower in the city center, a symbol of absolute power and twisted technology.
His steps were not fast, but they carried an unstoppable, heavy rhythm; each step made the ground beneath him tremble slightly, as if the entire city shivered under his wrath.
The people along the way had long since fled in terror, leaving only ubiquitous surveillance cameras and the faint, distant wail of sirens, proving that the system was still futilely trying to function.
He didn't care about being exposed.
In this world, rotten to its core, gentle methods were meaningless.
He needed answers, he needed to find Mark Grayson of Universe 1, and the fastest way was to directly flip the chessboard and force the player hiding behind the scenes to reveal himself.
However, he didn't know that the player had already glimpsed him, this sudden pawn crossing the river, through a crack in the chessboard.
...
Vought Company International Tower, top floor.
CEO's office.
Cecil, the Universe 1 version, was reviewing the next quarter's superhero endorsement and public opinion guidance plan report.
In this world, he looked a little younger than his Universe 9 counterpart, impeccably dressed in a suit, his hair neatly combed, his eyes sharp and full of ambition, but deep within them lurked a hint of imperceptible fatigue and grimness.
He was no longer the director who worked tirelessly for global defense, but one of the planet's de facto controllers, holding power and wealth firmly in his grasp by managing the business of metahumans.
Just then, there was a cautious knock on the office door.
His assistant, a young man with a somewhat pale face, hurried in with a tablet computer.
"Mr. Cecil, I apologize for interrupting you... A video just went viral online, it happened in District Seven... You might need to see it..."
The assistant's voice trembled slightly as he handed over the tablet.
Cecil frowned slightly, taking the tablet.
The video quality was a bit blurry, obviously shot from a distance by a passerby with a mobile phone, accompanied by terrified screams and static.
In the footage, an exceptionally burly man, in a way he couldn't comprehend, instantly crushed members of the Starfall Team into a bloody mist, as if swatting flies!
When the camera accidentally caught the man's face, despite the rough quality, Cecil's pupils suddenly constricted.
That face...?!
He abruptly waved his hand, dismissing the assistant, locked the office door, and repeatedly watched the video alone, his face growing increasingly grim.
There could be no mistake...
Although the temperament, physique, and strength were vastly different, the facial contours... were clearly...
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
He quickly walked to the office's huge floor-to-ceiling window, pressed a hidden button, and the thick bulletproof glass instantly became completely opaque, blocking the view in and out.
He then walked to the bookshelf, moved a few heavy hardcover books, revealing a retina and fingerprint dual-scan device.
After verification, the bookshelf silently slid open, revealing a downward passage filled with cold white light and the smell of disinfectant.
Cecil hurried into it.
At the end of the passage was a heavy alloy door, which slowly opened after another strict identity verification.
The sight behind the door was enough to make any conscientious person feel anger and suffocation.
This was a huge, cold, sterile laboratory.
Countless precise instruments glowed with various colors, thick energy pipes and liquid delivery tubes spread like blood vessels across the walls and ceiling, all ultimately connecting to the center of the laboratory...
The cage.
Inside a cylindrical container made of special reinforced glass and an energy force field, a person was imprisoned.
He was emaciated, almost skin and bones, curled up at the bottom of the cold container.
Dozens of tubes were connected to his body, constantly drawing his blood, cerebrospinal fluid, and even more subtle life substances.
His hair was withered and yellow, his eyes hollow and dull, his face bore a blank, almost idiotic expression mixed with faint pain, and occasionally, he would twitch slightly from the pain of the fluid extraction.
But his face... was seven or eight parts similar to the demonic god wreaking havoc in the video outside.
This was Mark Grayson of Universe 1!
From birth, his genetic uniqueness was discovered by Vought Company's predecessor organization, and he has since been secretly imprisoned, studied, extracted, and exploited.
His genetic fragments were the most core and original template for all superhuman compounds in this world; he was the source of all heroic power, yet also the one most thoroughly exploited and most tragically deceived!
Several researchers in white coats were busy in front of instruments, recording data.
A female researcher held a lollipop, shook it through the glass, and said in a coaxing tone like one would use with a child.
"Good little Mark, just hold on for a little longer, okay? After this extraction, big sister will give you candy, alright?"
Mark's eyes in the container brightened slightly, and he made a vague gurgling sound in his throat, seemingly genuinely anticipating that meager reward.
Cecil watched this scene, with no pity in his eyes, only the cold scrutiny of an owner towards his possession.
He let out a long breath.
"The experimental subject is still... in stable condition."
He murmured to himself, as if confirming that his most valuable asset was not lost.
But then, the video footage from outside reappeared in his mind.
"Then what is that... thing outside?
Of the same kind?
How is that possible... According to all genetic comparisons, he is unique..."
Cecil frowned tightly, completely at a loss.
The concept of the Multiverse far exceeded the cognitive scope of this corporate giant, who had built his empire on genetic theft and chemical enhancement.
Regardless, the threat must be eliminated!
Or... if he could be captured, his research value would be immeasurable!
He immediately turned and left the laboratory, returned to his office, and pressed a red emergency button on the communicator.
"Initiate Sweeper Protocol, target District Seven, high-threat individual of unknown identity, physical characteristics have been sent."
"Authorize the use of all levels of force, prioritize capture attempt; if resistance is met, authorize immediate termination on sight, execute immediately!"
The order was quickly relayed.
Vought Company, this massive war machine, began to operate efficiently.
However, after issuing the order, the unease in Cecil's heart did not subside, but intensified.
The power displayed by that thing in the video had completely exceeded his cognitive limits of metahumans.
Could the Sweeper Team handle him?
He paced in the office for a moment, then his eyes hardened, as if he had made up his mind.
He walked to the other side of the office, where a large abstract painting hung, and he rhythmically pressed his hand on several specific positions on the frame.
Click.
The entire wall silently slid inward, revealing a more hidden, darker room behind it.
The room had no windows, only a dim, ancient oil lamp in the center, whose fuel source was unknown, and the air was filled with a faint, peculiar smell like a mixture of old parchment and dust.
In the center of the room, with his back to him, stood a figure.
The person wore a loose, old, dark yellow robe that seemed to merge with the shadows, the hood pulled low, completely obscuring his face.
He stood there silently, as if he had been standing for centuries, completely out of place with the modern style of the office.
Facing this figure, Cecil instinctively bowed slightly, his tone carrying a hint of imperceptible awe and fear.
"...My Lord."
The yellow-robed figure did not turn around, only a deep, hoarse voice, as if rubbing countless ancient pages, echoed in the room.
"...I know. The variable... has finally infiltrated..."
"My Lord, what exactly is that, and what do we need to do...?"
Cecil asked eagerly.
"Do not ask more."
The yellow-robed figure interrupted him, his voice devoid of any emotion.
"Do what you must. Your power, your kingdom, all stem from my grace. Guard it, or... lose it."
Cecil's heart tightened, and he quickly lowered his head.
"Yes... I understand."
The yellow-robed figure said no more, as if turning into a statue again.
Cecil dared not stay longer, respectfully exited the room, and the wall silently closed again.
...
Meanwhile, Mark Grayson had approached the outer plaza of the Vought Company Tower.
Suddenly, sharp alarms blared all around!
All entrances and exits around the plaza were instantly sealed by heavy alloy gates, and defensive turrets on high ground rose, locking onto Mark in the center of the plaza.
Immediately after, a dozen figures leaped from different floors of the tower, or appeared rapidly around the plaza in various other ways, surrounding him.
When he clearly saw the appearance and attire of these people, even Mark Grayson, whose mind was usually as still as an ancient well, instantly felt a monstrous wave surge through him!
He knew almost all of these people!
The cold and beautiful woman hovering in mid-air, surrounded by atomic energy, was Atom Eve!
The burly man wearing a classic blue battlesuit, a red cape, and a smile tinged with hypocrisy and cruelty was Immortal!
The woman whose body constantly split into countless identical duplicates was Dupli-Kate!
The one composed entirely of silver metal, with red light flickering in his eyes, was Robot!
The young man constantly generating and throwing dangerous energy bombs with both hands was Rex Splode!
And Blackblood, Darkwing, Tremor... and so on!
There were over twenty people in total.
They were almost identical to the iconic super-powered individuals from the Global Defense Agency on his home Earth.
Their uniforms might have differed in detail, being more commercialized and flamboyant, but their core characteristics and codenames were almost identical!
However, their eyes were completely different.
Gone were the senses of justice and responsibility, replaced by a mixture of arrogance, greed, bloodlust, and... the numbness of being domesticated by the system.
They looked at Mark Grayson like a pack of hounds looking at a lone wolf that had trespassed into their territory, full of hostility and aggression.
"Tsk tsk, so this big guy took out those useless Starfall members?"
One of Dupli-Kate's duplicates licked her lips and chuckled.
"He looks pretty durable. Hope he doesn't break as easily as the previous toys."
Robot said in a cold electronic voice.
"Company orders, capture him alive. Whoever takes him down first gets double the bonus!"
Immortal roared, seemingly wanting to claim the first credit.
Mark Grayson looked at these familiar yet strange faces, and what surged in his heart was not battle intent, but a tremendous sense of desolation and absurdity!
This twisted Universe, had it warped his comrades from memory into such a state?!
He tried to make one last attempt at communication, his voice hoarse.
"Do you... still have a shred of conscience?"
"Look around you, look at what you are protecting?!"
"Conscience?"
Atom Eve sneered, an dangerous atomic energy orb condensing in her hand.
"Can conscience bring in ratings and endorsement deals?"
"Enough talk! Get him!"
The battle instantly erupted!
Countless duplicates surged like a tide, energy bombs rained down, atomic shockwaves ripped through the ground, Robot fired high-frequency oscillating rays, and Immortal charged like a tank.
The entire plaza was instantly engulfed by violent energy and attacks!
Explosions, roars, and shouts merged into a cacophony.
However, Mark Grayson, at the center of the storm, slowly closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, the last trace of hesitation and pity completely vanished from his molten-gold pupils, leaving only absolute coldness and judgment.
"Since you are willing to be a tiger's accomplice..."
His voice was not loud, but it clearly overpowered all the explosions and clamor.
"...Then, let dust return to dust, and ashes to ashes."
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