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  The Abomination seized Dr. Zo by the leg and smmed him against the ground, left and right. Sparks flew as mechanical parts cttered onto the ground, leaving Zo utterly defenseless.

  Baron Zemo, seeing that Dr. Zo was no match for the beast and that their firearms were useless against its defenses, called for a retreat.

  “Prepare the transport. We're pulling out,” Zemo ordered.

  The Hydra operatives knew they stood no chance against the monstrous foe. Shielding their leader, they hurriedly boarded an aircraft, leaving Dr. Zo behind to endure the onsught alone.

  Though Zemo fled, he left a contingent of Hydra agents behind to maintain the blockade, ensuring no townspeople could escape.

  “Zzt… Stop… stop…” After enduring the relentless beating, Dr. Zo’s voice modutor emitted only garbled sounds. “I… I surrender!”

  The Abomination ignored him entirely, consumed by a berserk rage. The hulking creature only reveled in its frenzy.

  Zo’s robotic body was battered beyond recognition. One of his cybernetic eyes dangled from its socket, and an arm y shattered. His metal frame was riddled with dents and cracks. “I… I’ll… get you for this… I… will… have revenge…”

  Before he could finish, the Abomination ripped him apart, leaving nothing but a heap of sparking scrap metal.

  The Abomination scanned the surroundings, only to find no one else left. Disappointed, he lumbered back toward Garus.

  Unbeknownst to them, Dr. Zo was not truly dead. The robotic body was merely one of many, and his consciousness could be transferred to another, allowing him to escape danger.

  Unlike Ultron, however, Zo couldn’t exist within the digital network. When a robotic body was destroyed, his consciousness transferred to another host via a device known as a "consciousness register"—simir to a lich’s phyctery.

  Garus watched as the fight ended. Suddenly, he noticed a white, spectral form drifting from the remains of the robot.

  “A soul? From a robot?” he muttered, puzzled. Unaware the machine had been Zo, the sight left him perplexed.

  Meanwhile, in Zo’s hidden b, a dormant robotic body came to life. Its eyes glowed red as its systems activated.

  “Consciousness activation program initiated. Rebooting.”

  “Body bance calibration in progress…”

  Dr. Zo’s consciousness gradually awakened. Sitting up, he detached the cables plugged into his body.

  “Zemo,” Zo hissed, connecting to Baron Zemo’s communicator. “I did my best. Now, transfer the funds to my account immediately.”

  “Dr. Zo? You’re alive?” Zemo sounded surprised.

  Zo’s anger fred. “You abandoned me! Do you realize the cost of losing that body? You owe me compensation!”

  Baron Zemo, indifferent to financial concerns, replied smoothly, “Of course. Next time I need your help, I’ll call.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” Zo snapped. “I’m focusing on constructing my test ironcd body. Do not disturb me again.”

  The line disconnected abruptly. Annoyed, Zemo called back.

  “What now, Zemo?” Zo growled.

  “I know you’ve secretly commandeered the military base near the town,” Zemo said coldly. “I want you to unch the missiles and obliterate the town. If you don’t, you won’t see a single cent of your payment.”

  “Damn you! How do you know about that?” Zo spat, furious.

  Fifty kilometers from the town, arms bred in a military base.

  “What’s going on?” the base’s general barked as he entered the control room.

  “Sir, our systems are under attack,” a technician reported.

  “What?! Our network is isoted—an internal system! How is this possible? Do we have a mole?”

  Before they could act, the missile silos opened. One by one, the rockets ignited and unched.

  The general watched in horror as the missiles ascended. Cold sweat dripped down his back. “Where are they targeting?” he demanded.

  The technician frantically typed at his console. “The town of Morris, sir. It’s a remote settlement with a small popution.”

  Relieved yet still grim, the general exhaled. While he would face a court-martial, at least the situation wasn’t catastrophic.

  “Have you made your decision?” Garus asked.

  Before Wanda could reply, the ground began to tremble, accompanied by deafening explosions. Turning, they saw massive smoke plumes rising as missiles rained down.

  “What the… How are there so many missiles?!” Garus excimed.

  Acting swiftly, he opened the Death Gate and pushed everyone through before they could react.

  His first thought was Hydra. Only they could commit such a reckless and destructive act. But how had Hydra acquired so many missiles without detection by the American government?

  Wanda and Pietro stumbled through the gate and found themselves in an unfamiliar office.

  Looking around, Wanda asked cautiously, “Where are we?”

  “This is X-Academy,” Garus replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “Good thing we got out in time. Things could’ve turned ugly.”

  “Come on. Let’s take a look around. I think you’ll like it here. Oh, hold on a moment.” Noticing Pietro’s injured leg, Garus picked up a phone. “Send Sissy to my office.”

  A few minutes ter, there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in!” Garus called.

  A teenage girl entered. Wanda and Pietro recognized her immediately—a fellow victim from their time as Hydra’s test subjects.

  “Headmaster, you…” Sissy froze when she saw the siblings. Fear turned to anger as she gred at them. “Why are they here?”

  Garus, understanding her reaction, tried to calm her. “Rex, Sissy. I called you here to heal Pietro’s leg. They’re not with Hydra anymore.”

  “I refuse!” she snapped.

  After much coaxing, Garus finally convinced her. Reluctantly, she agreed to treat Pietro.

  Golden light radiated from her hands, enveloping Pietro’s injured leg. The wound closed rapidly.

  “Thank you,” Pietro said sincerely.

  Sissy ignored him and left the room without a word, refusing to acknowledge anyone.