"Damn Hulk! Damn Storm Swordsman!"
In a dark underground tunnel, the Leader, clutching his head and barely able to stay on his feet, stumbled forward, using the dusty walls for support. After Noah's psychic attack, he had taken precautions and hastily escaped, destroying his base along with the equipment and data. His enhanced brain allowed him to retain all the experimental data in his memory.
Now his head was splitting with pain; his large, deformed brain felt as if hundreds of needles were piercing it. It was because of this that he felt a burning hatred for the Storm Swordsman. When he, connected to the mutated bird, saw the Hulk and the Storm Swordsman, he immediately recognized the latter. After all, he was one of the famous heroes who fought alongside Tony Stark. However, he hadn't expected the Storm Swordsman to possess similar mental abilities and be able to attack him through the mutated bird.
The Leader struggled forward, peering into the depths of the dark tunnel. It was an abandoned sewer, unused for years. Before destroying his base, he used this tunnel to escape – a passage he had discovered while converting the old factory into his hideout.
Strange sounds emanated from the depths of the tunnel, resembling the rustling of animals clinging to something. Due to the excruciating headache, he was completely devoid of combat strength, and if any wild animal attacked him, he wouldn't be able to resist. However, he wasn't entirely defenseless. Green eyes gleamed in the darkness around him, highlighting the fact that he was still dangerous.
He waved his hand, and one of the creatures darted forward into the darkness. A few seconds later, the sounds of crunching bones and chewing could be heard. But even this action caused him another bout of pain. He clutched his head in his hands. Now, even giving such simple orders was difficult. If he hadn't programmed these creatures specifically, he wouldn't be able to control them anymore.
"I need to find a place to rest... I won't forgive you! Not you, Storm Swordsman, nor Bruce Banner!"
...
Morning arrived. Sunlight pierced through the clouds, illuminating every particle of earth in the seaside mansion. The fountain cheerfully sprayed water, its droplets shimmering in the sun like scattered pearls.
Whoosh!
A purple figure flashed over the fountain, scattering water droplets beyond the edge of its basin. It was Noah's pet mascot – Rabadon's Deathcap. A figure in a blue and white outfit chased after it.
"Stop! Little hat! Come on, put it on!" Gwen shouted, trying to adorn the hat with strange accessories. But the hat, as always, refused to obey, and their daily race around the mansion began. Gwen cheerfully ran after it, clutching small decorations in her hands.
Noah stood at the windowsill, holding a cup of hot tea in one hand. He watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The morning scenes filled with laughter and fun always brought him a sense of peace and tranquility.
"There's news from the search drones, Noah," a voice said behind him.
Lissandra's tall figure approached him, and, placing a hand on his shoulder, she continued,
"Here are the results of their work."
Noah turned, and Lissandra unfolded a holographic screen displaying the information gathered by the search drones during the night.
"So fast?" he was surprised. But, considering the small search area, it wasn't surprising that the drones finished in a few hours.
"Let me see," he said, focusing on the screen. Despite it being just a projection screen, it seemed tangible. Even the bright sunlight didn't interfere with viewing it.
The screen split into multiple small windows, each displaying data from different drones. Noah frowned, looking at Lissandra as if asking, "Do you want me to watch all of this?"
Lissandra smiled, and the screens began switching to key moments captured by the drones.
Among the ruins, where buildings had collapsed due to the fire and explosions, debris piled up in huge mounds. Several search drones circled these piles, gradually extending mechanical arms to begin clearing the debris.
Although the drones were small, their strength was impressive. Watching the tiny robots lift objects many times their own size was a mesmerizing sight – like ants carrying heavy loads. Soon, thanks to their combined efforts, the debris was cleared, revealing the surface hidden beneath.
At first glance, it was an ordinary reinforced concrete floor, no different from the surrounding area, except for the dents left by falling debris. However, Noah noticed that this concrete slab looked like it had been recently laid and quickly hardened using some kind of chemical agent.
He glanced at the report from the search drones – there was a tunnel beneath the concrete, hidden by the rubble. The drones replaced their manipulators with drilling rigs and began destroying the slab.
Boom! Boom!
Under the blows of the drills, the slab began to crumble, revealing a round underground passage.
"Ha, a real tunnel. It seems this guy chose it for his escape," Noah said, finishing his tea.
"Lissandra, give the drones a command – let them scour everything underground and find all the tunnel exits."
On the screen, the drones had already entered the tunnel, which turned out to be an old sewer. They stopped in standby mode, awaiting further instructions. Noah ordered most of the drones to descend and begin exploring the tunnels, trying to find exits.
If there were several exits, he could narrow down the search area, focusing on the areas where the Leader might be hiding. If there was only one exit, it would significantly simplify the task, but the probability of such an outcome was low – sewer systems were usually branched and complex.
"Noah, there's some more information you haven't looked at," Lissandra reminded him.
When Noah focused on the drone footage, the screen changed, displaying new data. Several drones exploring the vicinity of the Leader's base had discovered an important clue – a cigarette butt. One of the drones immediately began extracting DNA from the filter.
Thanks to Lissandra's intervention, the drones quickly hacked into American databases and began comparing the sample with existing DNA profiles. A few moments later, the drones produced a result.
[Myron MacLain, white male, belongs to the XX Military District, rank - Lieutenant Colonel]
Noah glanced at this key piece of data, and the name of the military district seemed familiar to him.
"Ross? Is he involved in this too?"