Inside the White House, alarms were already going off.
Reports flooded in—Stryker's base in Canada had been attacked.
Before anyone could even process that, another update hit.
The base had fallen.
Completely.
And then—
Without presidential authorization, a nuclear missile had been launched.
Straight at the same base.
President Ellis stared at the screen, stunned.
"Who authorized that launch?" he demanded.
No one answered.
Across the globe, world leaders reacted in real time. Satellites shifted, locking onto the launch trajectory, trying to understand why the United States had just fired a nuclear weapon at its own facility.
Confusion turned to alarm.
—
At S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters—
Nick Fury was already dealing with too much.
First, an unidentified figure had crossed from New York to Canada at hypersonic speed.
Then Stryker's base reported a mutant attack.
Then intelligence flagged Noah Vale—previously classified as human—as a mutant.
And now—
A nuclear strike.
Fury rubbed his temple, trying to keep up.
"Tell me," he said slowly, voice tight, "who approved the launch."
A technician swallowed hard.
"It… wasn't official clearance. The command came through our system, but—"
"But what?"
"…It was spoofed. Someone used our infrastructure."
Fury went still.
Then exhaled sharply.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has been compromised," he said flatly.
There was no other explanation.
—
Outside the base—
Noah stood atop the shattered perimeter wall.
His gaze lifted.
Miles away, cutting through the sky—
A missile.
Even from this distance, he could see it clearly.
"They really went for it," he muttered. "Who signs off on nuking their own base?"
It didn't feel like strategy.
It felt like a cover-up.
He tracked its trajectory, running the numbers in his head.
If he stayed at ground zero, the core temperature would vaporize him instantly.
But at this distance?
He'd survive.
Still—
No reason to take it head-on.
Noah crouched slightly, reaching down. His fingers dug into the broken concrete beneath him, tearing out a chunk roughly the size of his fist.
He wrapped it in energy.
The missile closed in.
Noah twisted his body—
And threw.
The chunk of concrete tore through the air at several times the speed of sound, cutting a straight line toward the incoming warhead.
Seconds later—
Impact.
The missile detonated prematurely.
Light swallowed the sky.
A massive fireball erupted midair, expanding violently as heat and pressure surged outward. Everything within range was instantly vaporized.
Then came the shockwave.
It tore across the land, flattening everything in its path.
From orbit, satellites captured the moment—a towering mushroom cloud rising into the atmosphere, stretching kilometers high.
On the ground, miles away, civilians looked up in confusion.
A distant roar rolled across the land.
And then—
They saw it.
A nuclear cloud blooming over their own country.
"…What?"
—
At the edge of the explosion—
Noah stood within the outer boundary of the firestorm.
Flames licked across his skin, thousands of degrees of heat washing over him.
He barely reacted.
"Impressive," he said, almost conversationally.
The heat dried the air around him, but it didn't burn. The pressure from the shockwave slammed into him, but it was nothing compared to what he'd already endured in training.
Radiation washed over him—
And was gone just as quickly, his body recovering faster than it could take effect.
The only real casualty—
His clothes.
They didn't survive.
"…Not ideal."
Noah stepped forward, leaving the dying edge of the fireball behind.
Cleanup time.
He swept through what remained of the base, collecting anything useful—especially the remaining adamantium—before moving out into the surrounding wilderness.
Then he reached into his spatial pocket—
And pulled the engineer back out.
The man hit the ground hard, still clutching his shattered shoulder, face pale and drawn.
Noah looked down at him.
"Let's continue," he said. "Start talking about those Sentinels."
The engineer swallowed, his voice shaking.
"The Sentinel program… it started as a concept. Designed by Dr. Bolivar Trask. A machine built specifically to eliminate mutants."
"At first, no one took it seriously."
He winced, shifting slightly.
"Then… things changed."
"An autopsy revealed that President Kennedy—the one assassinated by Magneto—was a mutant."
Noah blinked.
"…Of course he was."
"That discovery triggered political panic," the engineer continued. "The military got involved. The program was revived."
"And then… it escalated."
"Howard Stark. Hank Pym. Both brought in to contribute."
Noah's expression twitched slightly.
Well, that explains a lot.
The engineer went on.
"With their involvement, progress accelerated rapidly. Within a few years, using genetic samples—Mystique's adaptive DNA, fragments from a mutant called Darwin—the project reached what Stryker considered a 'final stage.'"
He paused, catching his breath.
"But even that wasn't the end goal."
"The design was meant to allow multiple abilities at once. Adaptive combat. Size manipulation through Pym Particles."
"But the project collapsed. Pym and Stark had a falling-out. Stark died soon after. Everything was shelved."
"I only learned about it a few months ago," he added weakly. "Stryker got access through… higher-level clearance. Something tied to a former S.H.I.E.L.D. director."
Silence followed.
Noah stood there, processing.
Then exhaled slowly.
"So the ones I fought…"
"…weren't even the finished version."
He looked up at the sky, then back down at the engineer.
"…Good to know."