In the middle of his scattered thoughts, Herman suddenly realized something serious—the Mold came from a small town in Louisiana.
Did that mean...
A small-scale biohazard had already broken out there? That was no small matter. Herman immediately turned to Dr. Marcus.
"The Mold was obtained last June. Has the area where it was collected been contained?" Herman fixed his eyes sharply on him.
This sudden question froze Dr. Marcus, who had been sobbing just moments earlier.
"A severe plague erupted in that town. Several investigation teams were wiped out. The culprit behind it was the Mold."
Though unsure why Herman was pressing this issue, Dr. Marcus relayed everything he knew. Because the company had medical collaborations with the authorities, he and a team of medical experts had been dispatched to the site.
Herman already knew as much.
While listening, he also pulled up company records, confirming that Dr. Marcus had indeed gone to Louisiana alongside government officials.
"You discovered a unique form of Mold there and brought some back to the company?" Herman pressed.
The records only contained key information.
The finer details had to come from Dr. Marcus himself.
"Yes. I realized the Mold had extraordinary properties. It was as if it was trying to evolve together with humanity, but the human body simply couldn't adapt."
"It's very similar to the virus inside the Stairway of the Sun. Before the military destroyed the town, I managed to hide a few samples and bring them back." Dr. Marcus, hoping Herman would reverse his earlier decision, was now revealing everything without reservation.
"The military destroyed the entire town?"
Herman hadn't seen anything about that in the company logs.
"The infection there was completely uncontrollable and incurable. You know the military—they love using nuclear bombs as a one-and-done solution."
Dr. Marcus let out a sigh, sounding almost regretful.
"They really do prefer the simple way."
Herman despised the U.S. military's habit of tossing nukes whenever problems spiraled out of control. The New York invasion later on was another case where they tried to solve things with a nuclear strike.
Still...
Hearing that the Mold's town had been completely wiped out...
Herman finally breathed easier.
Under a nuclear blast...
All things are equal.
There was no way that virus-like Mold could have survived.
And since no other plague outbreaks had been reported, it seemed the Mold problem in that Louisiana town had indeed been resolved.
"Do you know why the Mold appeared there?"
Herman worried it might have spread from somewhere else. After all, Resident Evil 8's events unfolded in a completely different location.
"Supposedly, a group of bored young people got their hands on some tomb-raiding books from the East. They ended up digging up a tomb in the town."
"The Mold came from that tomb. The whole place vanished completely when the nuke hit."
Dr. Marcus's tone carried deep regret. He had always believed that the tomb where the Mold originated held something of great significance.
"Mm."
Herman let out a faint sigh of relief but still pressed for confirmation.
"How do you know the military didn't keep any samples?"
Everyone knew what the military was like.
"If they had, they wouldn't need to work with us, nor would they keep pestering us for portions of what we have."
Dr. Marcus sneered, clearly disdainful of the military's scientists.
Yeah.
Herman had to admit he was right. Finally, he felt at ease. Luckily, his company was the only one holding Mold samples now.
Otherwise...
If a Resident Evil-style outbreak really hit the Marvel Universe, who knew if it could ever be contained? What worried Herman most was the military messing things up. In the Marvel Universe, not a single one of their biological experiments had ever succeeded.
...
Pacific Ocean.
A small island stood alone amidst the raging winds and towering waves.
It wasn't large, and the only structure on it was a facility that looked like a research institute.
"Rumble—"
From ten thousand meters above, a sleek, futuristic-looking combat aircraft roared toward the island at high speed. Three figures in unusual outfits parachuted out of it.
As they drifted down, a boy with wings on his back flew directly from the aircraft. After gliding through the sky, he landed gracefully on the shoreline.
"Come on, guys, you're way too slow."
The winged boy grinned, teasing the three still descending under their parachutes.
His name was Warren Kenneth Worthington III, codename Angel, a mutant and a member of the X-Men.
He possessed sharp eyesight, enhanced strength, and quick reflexes. But his most striking mutant trait was the pair of pure white, angelic wings on his back.
"You think everyone's lucky enough to have a pair of chicken wings?"
The first man to touch down wore special goggles covering his eyes. He was Cyclops, one of the X-Men's most famous members, born with the ability to fire devastating red optic blasts strong enough to level a building.
"You're just jealous!"
Angel gave his wings a playful flap, his expression smug.
By then, the other two X-Men had also reached the ground. One was Pyro, John Allerdyce, who could control flames but needed an external source like a lighter to ignite them. The other was Colossus, the team's frontline tank, able to transform his entire body into organic steel.
"Stay sharp, everyone. Something about this island feels off." Colossus immediately cut off the playful banter as his feet hit the ground.
"What's there to worry about? It's just a lab," Pyro scoffed. The youngest of the group, he was also the most arrogant and hotheaded.
He was here as part of his X-Men internship.
Since he'd missed out on participating in The Boys mission earlier, Professor Charles had arranged this operation as compensation. Pyro had been far too much of a troublemaker at the academy.
"Don't relax. Something isn't right. Why hasn't a single guard noticed us?" Cyclops ignored Pyro, his puzzled gaze fixed on the facility.
The silence from that direction felt unnatural.
On every past mission, Cyclops had been prepared to engage the moment they landed. Yet this time, no fire came from the research base, no defenses activated.
"Maybe the place was abandoned? Looks like we came here for nothing." Angel raised an eyebrow, offering his guess.
"Trask poured billions into this facility. He wouldn't abandon it so easily. More likely, it's a slaughterhouse for mutants."
Colossus finally revealed the true purpose of their mission—rescuing mutants.
"Alright, so how much do we actually know about this place?" Angel squinted into the distance, using his sharp vision to study the building.
He couldn't spot a single guard.
"All we know is it was built last year... After Trask returned from Louisiana, he secretly spent billions constructing it." Cyclops shared the only intel they had.
"Billions? That's no small sum, even for my old man. How does a military colonel get that kind of cash?" Angel arched a brow in surprise. Aside from being an X-Man, he was also a privileged heir.
"He's got backers. That's what makes him dangerous." Colossus's tone was grim as he gestured for the team to move out.
"I remember hearing about an incident in Louisiana last year," Pyro said. Bored at school, he often filled his time with conspiracy theories.
"Yeah. He went to that erased town. The professor suspects he captured a powerful mutant there."
Cyclops followed closely behind Colossus.
The team advanced toward the island's research facility... but their caution proved unnecessary.
The place was completely dead.
No guards moved to intercept them. No automated defenses activated.
The entire facility was shrouded in an eerie, suffocating silence.
On the ground, not even a single living ant could be seen.