The corridors of the base echoed with the steady rhythm of footsteps as Nolan and David made their way toward the lobby. Overhead lighting cast long shadows against the metal walls, each step taking them further from the detention area where Titania remained confined.
Nolan's mind turned briefly to the woman they'd left behind. She had endured torture, her body pushed to its limits, yet he held no personal vendetta against her. The interrogation had been necessity, not pleasure. David's thorough investigation had turned up nothing particularly cruel in her past, no atrocities that would demand permanent punishment.
If Raditus could repair the brainwashing device, Titania would serve the team. The practical side of Nolan's mind recognized the value, a woman with her resilience and terrifying strength didn't come along often. But until then, the Primogenitor island would serve as her temporary prison, isolated and secure.
The base lobby opened before them, a vast space of gleaming metal and functional design. Nolan's voice cut through the ambient hum of machinery. "David, call another round table meeting."
The first arrival came with characteristic noise. Raditus, the servo skull, floated into the lobby with his usual obnoxious energy, mechanical components whirring and clicking as he moved through the air.
Then came Jessica, and she wasn't alone. She walked Magnum like an oversized pet, the massive figure following obediently behind her. A warm smile spread across Jessica's face as she caught sight of them.
"Nolan! David!" Her greeting carried genuine enthusiasm as she approached, that smile never wavering.
Raditus immediately seized the opportunity. His mechanical voice launched into what could only be described as a verbal assault, and Jessica returned fire with equal vigor. The two fell into their strange ritual of antagonism, words flying back and forth in an exchange that had become almost routine.
Nolan tuned them out with practiced ease. He'd learned long ago that trying to referee their battles was a waste of energy. Instead, he turned his attention to the massive screen mounted on the base hall's metal wall.
"Procellas," he said, his voice calm and level. "Start the big screen and connect me to the video communication from Japan."
From a corner of the base, the response came immediately. "Please wait a moment, Lord Nolan." The steel caterpillar's form shifted slightly, ancient mechanisms engaging with modern technology.
The screen flickered to life. Color and light resolved into two familiar faces. Bucky appeared first, his features noticeably healthier than when Nolan had last seen him. Beside him, Old John sat with a completely shaved head, the smooth scalp catching the light.
"Long time no see, Captain!" Bucky's voice carried through the speakers.
"Hahaha, Nolan boy, how are you!" Old John's laugh boomed across the connection.
Nolan felt a smile tug at his lips. He let his gaze linger on Bucky, noting the improved spirits, the better color in his face. Then his eyes shifted to Old John and that gleaming bald head. A teasing tone crept into his voice.
"It seems that you have had a good life recently." He paused, letting the moment stretch. "If I'm not mistaken, Mariko and Yukio are also nearby, right?"
The effect was immediate. Old John's expression didn't change, his face remaining impassive. But Bucky's composure cracked. An awkward expression flashed across his features as he reached for the communication device, adjusting the angle.
The camera panned. Two figures came into view on the opposite side of the room, one taller than the other, both distinctly feminine.
Yukio bowed slightly, her movement graceful and controlled. "Hello, Master Nolan!"
Mariko's voice rang out with fervent intensity. "For the Emperor! Hello, the Primarch of the Imperium of Man!"
Nolan's eyebrows twitched. His focus sharpened on Mariko. Hearing the Emperor's slogan from a native's mouth, someone born to this world rather than the grim darkness of the far future, it wasn't something he encountered often.
"For the Emperor." He nodded, the acknowledgment carrying weight. His hand rose, a gesture directed at Raditus and Jessica. The message was clear: silence.
The background noise died down. Nolan's voice filled the lobby, steady and purposeful.
"Connors is at a critical moment in the study of the mission, so he chose to withdraw from this roundtable meeting. Therefore, let us discuss the agenda this time."
He drew a breath, organizing his thoughts. "The main content of the meeting is only one, that is, about a small European country, Latveria."
The name hung in the air for a moment. Nolan continued, his tone growing firmer. "David and I plan to support the resistance in that country, and at the same time destroy the Fotunov family that stole this country and the Leviathan behind them. If you have any ideas or suggestions, you can put them forward at will."
On the screen, Bucky's head lowered. The silence stretched as he considered, weighing the implications. When he looked up, his expression had turned serious.
"Captain, I remember that the order David sent us before was to maintain secrecy and try not to expand the sphere of influence?" His voice carried careful concern. "If we choose to invade a small country now, will it attract more attention from official forces and other organizations?"
The question was valid. Nolan acknowledged it with a slight nod. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs before speaking.
"That's right, so we will choose to support the local resistance. We will provide them with weapons and equipment, medical food, and if necessary, I will also lead the Storm Troopers to carry out covert decapitation assassinations."
He paused, making sure his next words carried proper weight. "However, the Intelligent Control Corps and the Gang Dogs will not appear on the battlefield. Everything on the front battlefield needs to be fought for by the resistance. Only if they fail completely, I will consider using more forces to occupy Latveria. However, at that time, we also need to weigh whether everything we have paid for this is worth it."
Bucky's head bobbed in understanding. His eyes shifted, glancing at Yukio and Mariko across the room. When he turned back to the camera, something had changed in his expression.
"Captain, if you need manpower for covert operations, Mariko's ninja unit can be mobilized for about 500 people."
Nolan's palm waved gently through the air, a gesture of postponement rather than rejection. "There is no rush in that regard. We need to contact the resistance army first." He shifted topics smoothly. "By the way, Bucky, how are the arrangements for the orphans you have collected?"
Before Bucky could respond, Mariko stepped forward. Her posture straightened, ready to deliver a formal report.
"My Lord Primarch, Mr. Bucky is not familiar with this, let me report."
She spoke with precision, each word carefully chosen. "We chose some remote mountainous areas to build the Chushin Gakuen (Center Academy). According to the many suggestions provided by Mr. David, it was divided into two separate academies for men and women. We have also received the corresponding training manuals. I am temporarily serving as the principal of Chushin Gakuen. You can rest assured that I can guarantee the loyalty of the children!"
Her voice maintained its steady rhythm, but something shifted as she continued. "However, the only problem is that Mr. John's training of male students is too cruel. If it were not for the potion supported by Mr. David, I am afraid that the number of disabled people would have increased a lot."
She turned her head, a deliberate movement that directed her gaze toward Old John. The Asgardian still wore that easy smile, completely unbothered. But in Mariko's eyes, deep beneath the surface of professional courtesy, something darker lurked. Disgust, subtle but unmistakable.
The brainwashing had worked perhaps too well.
Nolan caught it immediately. His awareness, honed through countless interactions, picked up on that fleeting expression. He drew a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice carried unmistakable authority.
"Mariko, it was my personal order to let John train the berserkers. Asgard is also one of our few allies." He let that sink in before continuing. "This is a flexible change that must be made due to different regions. I hope you can adjust your mentality, do you understand?"
The transformation was instantaneous. Mariko's face shifted, forcing a smile into place even as tension remained visible in the corners of her eyes. She bowed first toward Old John.
"Mr. John, please forgive me for my offense." Then deeper still, toward the screen and Nolan beyond it. "Lord Primarch! I will try my best to assist Mr. John in completing your order!"
The meeting moved forward from there. Ideas began to flow, suggestions bouncing between participants both present and remote. Jessica surprised everyone by participating with genuine enthusiasm, despite her admitted lack of knowledge about such matters. Her contributions might have been naive, but her energy was infectious.
Then Old John spoke, and the quality of the discussion shifted. The Asgardian had fought alongside God King Odin during the conquest of the nine realms. His experience with invasion, with the complexities of supporting and controlling puppet forces, ran deep.
"Supporting local forces requires careful treatment," he began, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. "It doesn't need to be too good, but it doesn't need to be too harsh either."
He leaned forward slightly, warming to his subject. The wisdom he shared came from hard-won experience, methods for using various forms of power to check and balance supported forces after victory. Ways to ensure loyalty without breeding resentment. Techniques for maintaining control while appearing to grant freedom.
Each insight broadened horizons. Nolan listened carefully, absorbing lessons that only someone like Old John could teach. The young commander might have tactical brilliance and strategic vision, but this level of political maneuvering, this understanding of how to truly rule conquered territory, it came only with age and experience.
The round table continued, ideas flowing like water finding new channels, each participant contributing what they could to the planned operation in Latveria.