"Shit!"
"What happened?"
Inside the Global Defense Agency, Cecil's head throbbed as he stared at a screen looping the same video over and over.
The footage showed a broad-shouldered man in a black-and-white tactical suit brutally beating the hell out of a "cute little white kitty." The man's methods were vicious: he hurled the "white kitty" at speeds far beyond sound into a building that was scheduled for demolition, smashing the entire structure—rebar, concrete, everything—into rubble. Then he grabbed the "kitty" by the head and drove a knee hard into its body, ultimately launching it into the sky at near-light speed…
And that was where the video ended.
Because the "kitty" that got kicked into the sky—whether intentionally or not—ended up destroying the GDA's highest human technology: the orbital weapons they'd placed in space to monitor that man.
To monitor Freeman Jovian.
"Shit! Shit!"
Cecil swore as he replayed the clip again and again. It made him furious—and helpless.
Whether he liked it or not, in that one brief moment, the GDA's "eyes" had been completely ripped out.
They were blind now.
"Jovian… what the hell are you trying to do?" Cecil muttered, brow knotted, thinking hard about what Jovian's actions actually meant.
"Director," his secretary asked carefully, "do we initiate an operation against Jovian?"
"No." Cecil shook his head. "The priority is recovering Mark. We need to study and break down Viltrumites as much as possible, as fast as possible, with the limited time we have."
He was going to hit Jovian from behind the lines—secure Mark first. Mark was half-dead, and Cecil wanted him under control, hoping Mark's body could provide the breakthrough they needed against Viltrumites.
Meanwhile…
After Jovian flew off into the sky—
Titan staggered, then forced himself up from the ground again.
Machine Head looked at the wrecked office and the stone giant walking toward him, suddenly feeling a bit less confident.
"Hey… maybe we can talk this out…"
"There's nothing to talk about," Titan said coldly.
Dragging his injured body forward, he activated his power again, layering rock armor over himself.
Machine Head still tried to stay composed.
"If we can't talk, then fine. Isotope—get me out of here."
He said it like he still had everything under control, because he believed he still had his final trump card: Isotope's teleportation.
But when Machine Head gave the order and turned his head—
There was nobody there.
"What the fuck?"
"Isotope—where the hell did you go?!"
Even a brain that operated like a quantum computer couldn't calculate the human heart. In all of Machine Head's simulations, it never occurred to him that Isotope would bail before he did.
"It's over," Titan said, stepping in front of him with a savage smile.
His fist came down.
Thud.
Machine Head stumbled and hit the floor hard.
"That's what you owed me," Titan said, flexing his hand like he was just warming up. "My dear boss."
Ding.
The elevator outside chimed.
Then—one after another—silver robots marched out.
At the same time, from the stairwell, a tall figure came up as well.
"Hm?"
Titan turned at the sound, frowning at the robots as they entered. He moved off to the side, wary.
"You're late," he muttered, sizing up the huge robot at the front, then the smaller units behind it.
He didn't know what they wanted, but he recognized the look of the smaller robots. In his head, he guessed they were connected to that robot from the Guardians of the Globe.
The robots didn't respond.
They moved with sharp efficiency—deploying a stretcher, lifting the barely-breathing Mark onto it, and injecting him with a strange fluid.
"Ugh…"
Mark's face immediately looked a little better. The agony seemed to ease—at least slightly.
Other robots began collecting what was left of the criminals, while some started clearing debris and trash from the room.
Then the biggest robot stepped up to Titan and pointed at Machine Head, its voice choppy and synthetic.
"Hand him over… to me…"
"Sure," Titan said.
He had no interest in fighting these robots. From the start, he didn't want conflict with the GDA or the Guardians of the Globe. He just wanted to quietly live the life he'd decided to pursue.
Smack.
The huge robot reached down and, without any gentleness at all, slung Machine Head up over its shoulder.
"Hey—easy," Machine Head snapped, frowning at the rough handling.
In all his calculations, he'd never predicted the GDA would be this crude. He'd always assumed the roughest person in the GDA was Cecil.
Apparently his "quantum computer" brain still wasn't enough.
Some things couldn't be derived from data.
"Target recovered. Preparing to return…"
With that, the huge robot carried Machine Head and jumped straight out through the shattered window Mark had broken earlier.
The smaller robots followed—leaping out after it.
"What the fuck?"
Titan stared, eyes wide.
They had just jumped from nearly a hundred meters up. He was genuinely starting to wonder if their systems were malfunctioning.
Ding.
Before Titan could even get to the window to check—
The elevator chimed again.
The next second, squads of fully armed soldiers poured in.
"Huh?"
Titan stared at the scene, completely thrown.
"Where's Invincible?" a cold voice demanded.
"I want a reasonable explanation."
The voice was right beside Titan's ear.
"What the fuck?!"
Titan jumped, spinning around fast, pressing his back hard to the wall.
When you're outnumbered and can't run, you never expose your back.
"Relax," the man said. "It's me."
Titan finally got a clear look at him: an older man in a blue suit, white hair, and eyes so sharp they seemed to throw off light.
"Cecil?" Titan said, stunned.
Of course he recognized him.
Anyone with powers crossed paths with Cecil sooner or later.
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