As Peter, Emma, and Felicia breached further into the bunker, it was quite strange. Occasionally, they'd come across a scientist, whom Peter would incapacitate and web up, but strangely, there were no guards. So the group easily made their way down.
They eventually made their way to the Central Incubation Lab due to Nina's map of the base she telepathically sent to Emma. It was a basic lab of steel, with six towering cylinders of translucent amber fluid embedded in the walls. Inside each sat a child. They were small, looked frail, and were wired to invasive tech. These were the Mannites—living government weapons for the next generation of genocide.
"The glass should be reinforced with vibranium-polycarbonate," Emma said, her voice echoing with a cold, sharp edge as she stepped toward the central console. Her diamond form flickered back into flesh, her eyes glowing with a faint, dangerous telepathic blue. "Don't touch them, you two. Look at the telemetry."
Peter landed on a railing above the nearest tube, his white-lensed eyes narrowing. He saw it immediately. The children weren't just sitting in fluid; their nervous systems had been bypass-shunted into the base's primary power core.
"Wow, rigged like this, it's almost as if they're the surge protectors," Peter whispered, horror rising in his throat. "The entire base's power grid is being filtered through their bodies. If we just break the glass or cut the power, the feedback loop will destroy their bodies and liquefy their brains. It's a dead-man's switch made of kids. Whoever came up with this is sick in the head."
"Dead-man's switch made of kids," Felicia muttered, her hands hovering over her belt. She looked around the cavernous room, her "bad luck" senses already screaming about the instability of the environment. "How do we unhook them?"
"You can't do it from there," a voice crackled over the intercom, dripping with a smug, academic arrogance.
Emma froze. Her head snapped toward a raised observation deck shielded by one-way glass. "That voice," she hissed.
A man stepped out onto the balcony. He was older, his hair a shock of sterile white, wearing a lab coat emblazoned with a sigil Emma knew all too well.
"Aristhone," Emma spat, the name sounding like a curse. "I haven't seen you since the Paris gala. I heard you left the Hellfire Club for 'private research.'"
"That's Dr. Aristhone to you, my dear White Queen," Aristhone chuckled, leaning over the rail. "Sebastian always said you had a soft spot for strays, Frost. But surely you can appreciate the beauty here. We aren't just building robots anymore. We are building evolution. And yes, the Council—specifically Sebastian Shaw—found my proposal far more lucrative than your little school for wayward youths. The Hellfire Club doesn't just fund the future, we build it."
Emma's face didn't just go cold; it became a mask of absolute, regal fury. The revelation that Shaw was using the Club's treasury to fund a Sentinel-breeding program under her nose was a betrayal that transcended business. It was an insult to her sovereignty.
"Ms. Hardy, Mr. Parker," Emma said, her voice dropping into a register that made the air in the room feel thin. "Get the children out. I'll handle that person."
"Mrs. Frost, wait—" Peter started, but she was already moving.
She didn't use her diamond form. She didn't need it. She surged forward, her mind expanding like a psychic supernova. Every technician in the room screamed simultaneously as Emma ripped through their mental firewalls without a shred of mercy. She wasn't looking for a conversation; she was looking for the shutdown codes, and she was dismantling their identities to find them.
"You sold your soul for Shaw's scraps!" Emma's voice rang out, projected into every mind in the facility. "Now, show me the codes. The more you resist, the more painful it'll be!"
"Ahh! The dampeners should stop you from using your psychic powers!" yelled Dr. Aristhone in agony.
"Oh, it hurt to use it for sure; however, for you, I'm willing to suffer through the pain," projected Emma's voice into Dr. Aristhone's mind.
Peter turned away from the psychic carnage, focusing on the screen. "I found the override. It's in the core chamber, but it's sealed behind a lead-lined bulkhead. The cooling system is leaking. It's a hot zone—heavy radiation."
"I'll go," Felicia said instantly.
"No," Peter grabbed her arm. "The exposure would kill a normal person in seconds. My metabolism can probably handle the poisoning long enough to punch the override, but you'd be dead before you hit the keypad."
"Probably… Peter, look out!" Felicia screamed.
The floor beneath them buckled. A massive, chugging hydraulic hiss filled the room as a platform rose from the center of the lab. Then a beam shot out, barely missing Peter and Felicia.
It wasn't a Sentinel like those outside. It was the Proto-Sentinel—a horrific, nine-foot-tall mass of shifting machine and exposed biological tissue. It didn't have a face, just a single, glowing red sensor and a cluster of translucent tubes that pulsed with the same amber fluid as the children's vats. It was a Frankenstein of the future.
"ERADICATE… ANO… MALY…" the creature groaned. The voice wasn't mechanical; it sounded like a dozen voices layered over one another—the voices of children.
The Proto-Sentinel swung a massive, obsidian-plated arm. Peter pushed Felicia back and took the hit, the force sending him flying across the lab and into a rack of surgical equipment.
"Ouch… it's fast." Peter said, flipping mid-air and sticking to the ceiling. He launched a barrage of web-fluid, but the creature's skin shifted, its temperature rising until the webs evaporated in a blaze.
"I hope this helps," Felicia said as she stood back. She didn't engage directly. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to tap into the bad luck energy that followed her. She visualized all that energy surrounding the Proto-Sentinel.
A heavy overhead panel, loosened by the earlier crash into the wall, suddenly snapped its cables. It crashed directly onto the Proto-Sentinel's shoulder, pinning it for a second.
"Must be my lucky day," Peter said, diving down with a high-velocity kick.
But as he made contact, the creature didn't counter-attack. It tilted its head, the red sensor pulsing slowly. It looked at Peter's mask, then at a small stray spark of electricity dancing on a nearby console. It reached out a massive, clawed hand—not to strike, but to touch the spark with a strange, clumsy wonder.
"It's… it's curious?" Peter hesitated, landing softly.
"Peter, it's a Sentinel! Destroy it!" Emma's voice echoed from the observation deck, where she was currently holding Dr. Aristhone by the throat with one hand while her mind was drilling into his temple, draining him of every secret he possessed.
The creature's sensor suddenly flared a violent, blinding purple. It let out a shriek that rattled the glass vats.
"NO… STOP… HURTS…" it screamed.
The mechanical parts on its back began to burrow deeper into its organic flesh, forcing its limbs to lock into an attack posture. It was being piloted from the outside, its own nascent consciousness being overwritten by the base's combat AI.
The Proto-Sentinel charged, its arm transforming into a serrated blade. Peter dodged, but he didn't strike back with his usual force. He saw the way the creature was spasming in agony.
"It's like a child," Peter realized, his heart sinking. "If it's a mix of machine and organic tissue… then it might have a mind. If so, then they didn't just use the Mannite data, they used their minds, too. It seems incomplete, so it can't understand what must be happening, and it's being tortured into fighting us."
"It's trying to kill us, Peter!" Felicia yelled, sliding under a sweep of the blade. She kicked a support strut, causing a localized floor collapse that tripped the giant. "We don't have time for a therapy session!"
"If it's alive then I'm not destroying it!" Peter shouted back. He fired two web-lines, but not at the creature. He attached them to the heavy lead doors of the core chamber. "I'm going to unhook the brain! Felicia, keep it busy—don't kill it, just trip it!"
"You're asking a lot from me, Spider!" Felicia grumbled, but she obeyed. She began a lethal dance around the Proto-Sentinel, using her agility and bad luck powers to lead it into a series of "accidents"—exploding pipes, slick floors, and falling debris.
Every time the creature managed to corner her, it would pause, its sensor flickering. It would look at the way the light reflected off her suit, a moment of pure, innocent observation before the combat software kicked in and forced it to scream and strike again.
Peter slammed his shoulder into the lead doors. They groaned but held. He jumped back and webbed the sides of the door and pulled with every ounce of his enhanced strength. Once he released, he launched forward and crashed into the door, bursting it open. Inside, the air was shimmering with Cherenkov radiation—a ghostly blue glow that promised a slow, agonizing death to anything biological.
Since Peter was now in danger, N.E.A.R. activated a secret program.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Parker. I am N.E.A.R., an AI designed to help you. Excuse me for skipping the pleasantries and diving right into it. Currently, the core is operating at 400% capacity," N.E.A.R. said, its voice calm and clinical. "You have ninety seconds before the atmospheric radiation levels exceed your cellular repair rate. The manual override is the red lever behind the primary cooling manifold."
Peter plunged into the blue light. His skin felt like it was being pricked by a million needles. His Spider-Sense was a physical weight on his skull, screaming at him to leave. He reached the manifold, his hands shaking as the radiation began to mess with his motor functions.
Back in the lab, the Proto-Sentinel had pinned Felicia against a wall. Its blade was inches from her throat, but it was shaking.
"FRIEND?" the creature whimpered.
"Yeah," Felicia whispered, her eyes wide. "Friend. So don't do it."
The creature's sensor turned blood-red. "COMMAND: TERMINATE."
It raised the blade. As it swung it down, Emma in her diamond form caught it, lifted the Sentinel, and threw it, slamming it against the wall. "Honestly, you two are such children. Let's just kill it and be done."
"We've got our own plan, thank you. NOW, PETER!" Felicia screamed.
In the core, Peter grabbed the lever. He didn't just pull it; he ripped the entire mechanism out of the wall, short-circuiting the biological tether.
The effect was instantaneous.
The amber vats dimmed. The children inside slumped, the invasive needles retracting as the power shunt vanished. The Proto-Sentinel let out one last, haunting cry before it liquefied, the organic tissue falling still as the "pilot" was disconnected.
The creature collapsed into a heap of inert metal and cooling flesh.
Peter stumbled out of the core chamber, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His skin was flushed a deep, feverish red, and he collapsed onto the catwalk.
Emma walked over, her white suit stained with drops of blood from the men she had mentally broken.
Over in the corner, Dr. Aristhone was curled in a fetal position on the floor, his mind a blank slate.
"I have the codes," Emma said, her voice trembling with a rage she was struggling to contain. "We should be able to get them out safely. As an added, I have the proof. Shaw didn't just fund this. He provided the genetic samples for the templates. This trip ended up being worth it more so than I thought."
She looked at the children, now being gently lowered from their vats by Felicia. Then she looked at the heap that had been the Proto-Sentinel.
"He's going to pay for this," Emma whispered. "I had just planned on taking everything he owns. I will leave him with nothing. Not even his life or a memory of what he believed was his legacy."
Felicia helped Peter up, her hands trembling as she saw the radiation burns on his neck. "You're an idiot, you know that? A big, glowing, heroic idiot."
Peter looked at the children—six lives saved from a future of being living genetic donors. He looked at the Proto-Sentinel, which had died.
"Sad, but it was worth it," Peter wheezed, offering a weak, tired smile.