"Uncle Charles?"
Charles Lorre burst into laughter.
"You think calling me 'uncle' will make this end tonight? I originally intended to take your shares peacefully, but you forced my hand."
His voice was thick with irritation.
Nolan shook his head and spoke seriously. "Sorry. You're not my Uncle Charles. My uncle betrayed me, but at least, once upon a time, he was worthy of my trust."
Charles Lorre let out a cold snort.
"Enough, Nolan Locke. No more nonsense. You have only two choices. First, hand over your shares. Second, walk out of here, and tomorrow morning the news will report that you died in a car accident. I don't recommend testing whether I can make that happen."
Nolan was not angry.
From the moment Charles used a living person as a bomb, he was already a dead man in Nolan's eyes.
What was the point of being angry at the dead?
If anything, Nolan felt a faint sense of regret.
What an arrogant fool.
The mercenaries around them stepped closer in unison.
One of them held a knife, calmly trimming his nails while occasionally glancing at Nolan, the threat unmistakable.
"Die in a car accident?" Nolan murmured, then shook his head. "I don't like that kind of death. I prefer something cleaner."
Charles narrowed his eyes.
"You think you get to choose? It seems you still don't understand the situation. Maybe I should torture you a bit, help you understand reality."
Nolan sighed.
He had overestimated Charles Lorre.
People from Hydra would never be this stupid, nor would they need such crude mercenaries.
"You're right," Nolan said quietly, disappointment clear in his gaze. "You really don't understand the situation you're in."
"You're asking for death!" Charles roared.
He had prepared endlessly for today. In New York, even someone like Wilson Fisk would have to show him respect. His rise had been carved out step by step, through blood.
Even now, with new backing behind him, it was only to make himself stronger.
"Cripple one of his hands," Charles ordered.
The mercenary with the knife shrugged. "Kid, you pissed off our employer. For the sake of our paycheck, this is how it has to be."
He stepped forward and slashed without hesitation at Nolan's right arm.
Thud.
The knife passed straight through Nolan's arm.
Nolan looked at him without expression.
The mercenary stared at the blade, stunned.
What happened? Why did it pass through?
The next second, he clutched his own throat, his face turning deep red.
The other mercenaries were thrown into panic.
In moments, the man collapsed, lifeless.
Only then did Nolan stand up.
Several guns were aimed at him, but he acted as if he did not see them. He leaned toward Charles Lorre, his voice utterly cold.
"Charles, tell me who's backing you."
"You… it was you!" Charles screamed. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
For the first time, fear seized him.
The mercenaries did not know how their companion had died, but faced with mortal danger, they reacted instantly, firing together.
The bullets passed through Nolan like they were hitting a mirage.
Then his body dispersed, dissolving into the air.
The lights throughout the villa flickered violently, appliances sparking and humming in chaos.
In the blink of an eye, Nolan appeared in front of one mercenary.
The next instant, the man collapsed, dead. No one even saw how it happened.
That was only the beginning.
In just a few seconds, every mercenary lay dead.
The electronics inside the villa continued to fluctuate. Computers suddenly powered on, screens flooding with streams of data.
Charles Lorre screamed as Nolan appeared before him once more.
"Nolan Locke, what are you doing? This is my house. If I die, you won't escape. There are cameras everywhere. You'll never get away with it. Kill me and you'll be buried with me!"
Abruptly, the lights stabilized. The computers shut down one by one.
Nolan frowned briefly, then ignored Charles and smiled faintly.
"I've already killed so many people. Do you really think I care about adding one more?"
He chuckled softly.
"And who told you the cameras are still working?"
There was not a trace of concern in Nolan's eyes.
His ability was simple, yet terrifyingly powerful.
His body had become consciousness itself.
A consciousness-based form granted him near-absolute defense, and more importantly, something he had never imagined before: direct machine intrusion.
In theory, his existence was now similar to Ultron's.
Nolan had thought long and hard about his future path.
A consciousness body was not invincible. Aside from its defense, it had little else to boast of.
But mechanical ascension required a body in the first place.
Now, like Ultron, the network was his domain, machines his extensions.
Even if his processing power was far inferior to Ultron's, from this moment on, he had truly reached a new threshold.
I am the machine. I am the surge.
On the path of mechanical ascension, he had taken a decisive step forward.
Every camera along the way had already been under his control. There was never going to be any evidence.
"The Hand…" Nolan murmured. "That's an unexpected answer."
He looked at Charles Lorre, whose pupils were shrinking as he struggled to understand how Nolan knew.
"Now that you've lost your value, you can die."
Nolan thrust his hand into Charles's chest.
His consciousness-based body suffered no resistance.
The next second, he clenched his fist.
A heart was crushed to pieces.
When it was over, Nolan vanished.
He felt a hint of surprise.
In his original world, he had little interaction with the Hand, apart from dealing with Wilson Fisk. After the death of Madam Gao, the organization had gone underground.
Such ancient organizations were difficult to eradicate completely, and they understood survival better than anyone.
He had not expected to see the Hand again in this world.
Charles Lorre left behind almost no direct ties to the Hand, but Nolan still found traces after digging through his computer systems.
Since the Hand had set this trap, Nolan saw no reason not to play along.
It was time to have some fun with them.
"Red Queen," Nolan said, "search for all traces of the Hand. I want to know how active they are in this universe and where they might be hiding."
There was little of value in the Hand, except one thing Nolan remembered clearly: dragon bones, used to resurrect the dead.
If they worked, he would be very interested.
And if they truly worked, once he returned to the primary universe, he would not mind cleaning out the Hand there as well.
Investigating the Hand would take time.
So would Nolan's adaptation to his new ability.
At the same time, he was pouring resources into building a new suit, the Thor-class armor.
That alone forced him to slow the company's growth.
The cost was simply too high.
With Locke Technology's current scale, supporting such an expensive project was difficult, especially now that he no longer had absolute control over the company.
Before, the Thor armor was worn like a traditional suit.
Now, with a consciousness-based form, he could integrate with it perfectly.
Even so, Nolan continued monitoring Victor von Doom and Reed Richards.
After Reed refused to help him, Nolan kept a close watch, hoping to extract some benefit.
Soon, he noticed what Reed was working on.
A gamma radiation reversal device, meant to restore Ben Grimm's human body.
When Victor learned of it, he was deeply tempted.
Despite his powers, he had lost his humanity.
If he could take revenge and become human again, he would not hesitate.
Victor did not realize that Nolan was watching everything from the shadows.
Nolan had already obtained the power he wanted. His next goal was simple: make money and turn this world into a second Spider-Man universe.
Standing in his way was Reed Richards.
Other superheroes could coexist with him. Reed Richards, however, was far too dangerous. A man who could cause disasters even when he meant well was unacceptable.
Using the conflict between Victor and Reed, Nolan intended to remove him entirely.
Victor monitored Reed's progress through surveillance.
At the same time, he built an identical machine.
The Fantastic Four's base.
Reed Richards watched the data scroll past and smiled.
"We're almost there. The gamma reversal device will be finished soon. Ben, you'll be human again."
"That's amazing!" Ben said, barely able to contain his excitement.
Reed glanced toward Susan.
Nearby, Nolan was sitting with her, intimate and relaxed.
Nolan had completely embraced a laid-back attitude. Two universes, after all. One more emotional debt hardly mattered.
"Nolan Locke," Reed said sharply, "I've told you more than once, you're not welcome here."
Nolan glanced at him calmly. "Sorry. I'm not here for you."
"But this is my place!" Reed snapped.
Johnny Storm scowled.
Thanks to Nolan's involvement, the Fantastic Four's finances now depended heavily on Reed's genetic research.
"I have to point out," Johnny said, "I pay rent here too."
He gestured at the advertisements plastered on his suit.
"Actually, I pay the biggest share."
Johnny looked smug.
The others had once criticized him for taking ad deals.
But without them, would they even be here now?
Didn't this prove he was right?
Reed's expression darkened.
Johnny's open defiance irritated him deeply.
Susan had remained silent the entire time, and Reed's attempt to drive Nolan away made her equally unhappy.
Seeing everyone's reactions, Reed forced himself to suppress his anger.
Suddenly, a massive explosion echoed outside.
A domineering roar followed, mixed with thunderous impacts, like an army battling a monster.
Everyone rushed to the window.
A massive green figure flashed past.
Nolan's expression turned strange.
That was the Hulk.
He looked different, but Nolan was certain.
"What's happening?" Susan asked, shocked.
Johnny's eyes lit up.
"This is our cue, Fantastic Four. No, this is my stage."
Flames engulfed Johnny as he lifted into the air.
A launch window had already been prepared in the lab.
"Johnny, wait!" Susan shouted.
But Johnny Storm ignored her and flew out.
"Nolan, stay here," Susan said quickly. "Reed, we need to help Johnny."
Reed nodded. "Let's move."
He disliked Johnny, but he knew his responsibilities.
The Fantastic Four could not fall apart.
Nolan shook his head.
"No. I'm coming too. I might be useful."
He pointed toward the Thor-class armor nearby.
It was still rough, many features unfinished due to limited time and funding.
That did not matter.
"Remember what I said?" Nolan said lightly. "I built something big. It's strong."
Susan had not spoken yet when Reed cut in.
"That pile of scrap?" Reed sneered. "Sorry, but I can't think of a better word. Your so-called armor isn't even as good as Tony Stark's. And frankly…"
He smiled with open contempt.
"It's a defective prototype. Barely qualifies as junk."
Nolan laughed softly.
"Maybe. But I see it differently."
He looked relaxed.
"I think you couldn't beat this 'defective prototype' even if you tried."