He waited in the testing chamber, a cruder, much larger version of the Visor he would eventually find in his escape down the road fixed to his head. It's lens system had more in common with those film projectors as opposed to actual monocles, a glittering ruby sheen of a fat cylinder joined to a dome shaped casing that completely obscured his features. He was in white test medical scrubs, multiple auto injector systems running along his arm, an adjustment module to wirelessly alter the width of the lens aperture mechanism affixed to a crude harness resting over his left pectoral.
Next to him was another test subject, in matching white medical scrubs, with a similar type of visor affixed to the subject's head, save the lens system was located where the right eye should be, and had an azure tinge, the helmet was also much smaller and more form fitting, and some kind of vambrace with an LED readout was surgically attached to his right arm.
In the distance, seated on a throne in near total shadow, was Essex, her red eyes shining in the darkness like the diamond symbol on her forehead. Below her were the thrones of multiple others, each bizarrely dressed. One he vaguely recognized in his brainwashed state as Viktur Vonn Duum, nicknamed "Doctor Doom" by the media, and only barely in a half joking manner. Viktur had later appropriated the name in a not at all joking spirit and was the undisputed dictator of Latveria. A man he recalled in his normal state as being described as a complete sociopath by his chief scientific rival (and Would-be Assassin), Reed Richards. He cut a powerful figure, clad in armor of gleaming obsidian black with a dark green cloak and hood of some shimmering material, spotless, draped over his imposing frame, angular eye slots in his stylized mask covered by glowing golden lenses. He had a weak spotlight above him. Next to him was a VERY beautiful woman with blue skin and a shock of long, crimson hair, wearing a blisteringly white cocktail dress and matching heels. Her eyes were a disturbing all yellow color.
While those two were to the lower left of Essex, the two to the lower right he was totally unfamiliar with. They had some sort of bizarre, antiquated garb, like something out of a British Period Piece. In the lower right seat closest to Essex, sat a man of strong tall build with a tan complexion and a head of long brown hair in a ponytail. The woman next to him was a pale, carved beauty with raven hair, and lips, and a matching black gown in the same type of antiquated British style.
"Why is the helmet so big on the one with the red monocle? It's ungainly. Give Doom two weeks, and Doom could make a better one..." Doctor Doom proclaimed in a somewhat thick, deep baritone of a European accent.
"The helmet is designed to limit his power output enough so that he doesn't destroy the lab but not so much that he cannot provide a good demonstration," Essex replied in the shadows, that crisp English accent poking through.
Doctor Doom pondered this answer.
"Doom accepts your reasoning and will continue to observe..." he trailed.
"What's with the other one?" the man with the Ponytail asked.
"That one is a useful case of convergent evolution. His abilities are similar to yours, Mister Shaw. Absorption of ambient energy, which is then discharged as electrical blasts from his eyes. Both abilities were quite weak when I found him...but grafting some of Scott's gene sequences to him has brought him up to an acceptable level for our purposes. Erg's genetics make him perfect for infantry work. Scott, however, is perfect for leading such infantry. He shall be the template for the kind of general you need."
The blue skinned woman glanced him over appraisingly.
"Not sure what you can accomplish with them drugged. It's what they can do when they have all their faculties that will show you whether they are the perfect types to use as soldiers or not," she said in a haughty, dark contralto.
"Miss Darkholme is correct..." the woman in black said.
"Then let us get on with the demonstration..." Essex suggested.
The pair were lowered from the audience booth into the chamber proper, lined with cameras on the walls. The floor was a black and white grid.
"First, I would like to show you that these are not one trick ponies...You'll have fully capable infantry who will know how to fall back on tried-and-true tactics should it become necessary..." Essex said.
Two sections of the floor parted and a pedestal raised containing a pair of M-16A2 Rifles.
"Participants, please pick up, inspect, for defects, and then load the rifles and await further instructions," Essex instructed over the Intercom.
Scott approached the rifle, going into automatic function, handling the rifle like it was an everyday thing. He had no idea how true that was.
In minutes he had inspected, disassembled, and reassembled it along with Erg. They couldn't resist Essex's commands. Only the certainty of obedience was in their minds.
"Today, I thought we might go beyond simple combat robots and give you both your first taste of Life Model Decoys..."
Floor panels in the far distance parted, and on them rose four people who all resembled blue garbed SHIELD Heavy Assault Soldiers in light exoskeletons, each equipped with an M60.
"Begin."
Barriers arose from the floor instantly and Scott felt his body moving, reacting without real thought, unfamiliar techniques to his consciousness coming to him like light turning on in his head as he opened fire, after flanking one side while Erg flanked the other, The LMD's programmed specifically to fight as highly trained special forces soldiers, which pretty much made up the bulk of SHIELD's membership. Scott was distantly aware of the projectiles escaping the LMG the Decoys were firing, sensing them travel through the air and always being where they were not. They were well functioning, keeping Erg and Scott pinned at first behind a barricade.
Instinct made Scott hand signal to Erg to provide covering fire. Scott, in the meantime, used the precious few seconds all the LMD's were focused on Erg to aim at a wall close to where one LMD was behind cover. Instinct made him place the shot. The bullet pinged off the barrier and hit the robot in the skull, which exploded in a shower of sparks and burning circuitry.
The sensation of an object hurled through the air made him whip the barrel of his rifle like it was some sort of mechanical swivel and fire, the precise aim letting the bullet hit the edge of the grenade at its equator, sending it tumbling towards another barricade, where it bounced off and hit another LMD, blowing him apart.
"The one with the Red Monocle...he possesses a natural sense of Trigonometry and Calculus..." Doom noted. "And spatial awareness to boot."
Erg, by contrast shined in direct engagement and aggression. He knew when to press the assault and when to get behind cover, blind firing and hitting a grenade he sensed moving through the air. But he didn't seem to be able to do ricochet shots the way Scott could. He was slightly less accurate as well...all of Scott's shots were kill shots.
"Scott is my star pupil and greatest discovery," Essex boasted in the darkness that concealed most of her, her crimson gaze following Scott as he successfully directed Erg to distract, flank, and snipe more and more LMD's that kept popping up, only to be shot and destroyed sometimes three at a time. When the rifles finally ran dry that's when Scott's greatly filtered optic blasts came out as a weak, red beam lancing out and cutting through the LMD robots that fired shotguns at him, their chests erupting in sparks and flames as their robotic innards were exposed.
"So even weak, anyone he stares at is dead," The blue skinned woman noted.
"Correct," Essex confirmed. "Soldiers can be genetically tailored to any level of power output or manner of distribution your respective factions could wish. The Master Templates, of course, stay with me, but the ones I create from these two shall be the first generation in a whole new form of infantry warfare."
Doom observed Erg at last fire his electrical blast from his own visor, a white ball of light that traveled above a target and then diverted straight down onto another LMD from above, destroying and melting through the robot completely. He began one shotting more and more LMD's as they popped from the floor firing, while Scott used his continuous beam to sweep the floor and heard them behind cover while Erg made his blasts travel rapidly around corners to hit them once they did so.
Scott herded them expertly, and then began destroying the floor itself, to hamper more that could arise. This caused Essex to peer closer, along with Doom.
"It appears Mister Summers is figuring out to simply cut the Gordian Knot..." Doctor Doom observed. "And you say he's under constant medication to control him?"
"Scott has a gift for saving his own life..." Essex replied casually. "It shines through even when he's under total mind control."
"I can already see the possibilities..." Shaw trailed. "Think of the Snipers we could make!"
"Such power...I have not detected a Mutant of this caliber in hundreds upon hundreds of years. It's like meeting En Sabah Nur all over again," The woman in black remarked.
"Who, Love?" Shaw asked.
"Ancient history. No one you would know, Sabastian," The woman replied.
"Doom grows tired of your words. Cease them so Doom may observe properly." Doom ordered quietly but with naked authority over everyone.
No one challenged his command. Better, stronger people then they had attempted to kill Doctor Doom.
Eventually the amount of LMD reinforcements began to decrease as Scott destroyed more of the floor.
Doom leaned back in his throne, armored fingers clicking together. as he finalized his mental evaluation.
"Doom is somewhat impressed by their adaptiveness..." he began in a clinical, emotionless manner, that hint of aristocracy poking through his baritone.
"But only somewhat. Latveria is threatened by much worse than these primitive LMD's though Doom does concede the wisdom of providing a demonstrable simulacrum of their effects against the common rabble the nations of the world throw at Doom in vain," he began. "Doom can even perceive the exceptional advantage of an energy weapon of limitless ammunition, all without the need to ever use these beneath crude ballistic armaments."
Then Doctor Doom clenched his fists and stood up.
"But if Doom wished to murder common soldiers instead of foes such as Doctor Wyndham, or upstarts like Stark, or relics like Rogers, Doom would let his own robots dispatch such people. Doom needs weapons that will ensure Latveria's survival against the interference of threats like REED RICHARDS..." Doom snapped loudly at Essex, armored hands crushing the guard rails that protected the transparent observation window.
Essex only chuckled at Doctor Doom's anger.
"Dear Doctor Doom, I am more than aware of your difficulties with Mister Richards. Do you really believe I would dare waste the ruler of Latveria's time? As I said, I wanted to make sure you all understand that even if I put out a very weak product, I ensure only the highest quality a weak product can possibly be made at."
"Doom has seen nothing that would truly impress him so far. If Doom wanted to see fancy gun tricks, he would watch a Western!" he replied in an utterly corrosive tone. His patience was wearing thin.
"Doctor, I was JUST getting to the next part of this test. What you see next should more than prove the worth of this project's potential."
"Hurry it up then. Doom must return to Latveria before the evening."
"As you wish, Doctor..." Essex replied.
A large segment in the wall parted open, revealing a great darkness beyond.
"For our next part of the test, A.I.M. was kind enough to loan me one of their Adaptoids..." Essex explained, eyes narrowing as a being of green, segmented metal in a primitive humanoid shape of an especially muscular male floated out, carrying a round shield, a bow and quiver of arrows, and strange green gem in its forehead in a matching green color.
"This Adaptoid is one of their more limited models. Only able to simulate three powersets. In this instance, two of the powersets imitate more pedestrian superhumans like Hawkeye and Captain America...and the third ability set is that of The Vision."
This got EVERYONE to perk up.
"Hmmm...perhaps your research is not entirely in vain for you to trot out an Adaptoid to make your point. Doom admires boldness. Continue."
"By the way, Doctor Doom...why DOES Reed Richards want you dead?" Shaw asked as he observed the Adaptoid fire a powerful green laser out of its forehead that demolished the floor, with Erg barely getting out of the way before firing multiple blasts of lightning that smacked into it at the same time Scott's beam did.
"That is DOOM's business," Doom snapped.
"But he's made it so public. He threw away everything to try and kill you in front of the U.N. and no one bloody knows why, not even his own wife," Shaw said, fixing a wry, searching gaze upon the dictator. "Come now, Great Doctor of Latveria; enlighten us primitives that we might glimpse the magnificence of your intellect."
"Flattery and Patronizing might get you easy smiles and languid gazes in your Hellfire Clubs, but DOOM is no mere Senator! No mutated concubine to slake themselves on your honeyed words!" Doom sneered in contempt without looking at Sebastian Shaw as he watched the Adaptoid rush Scott using the Shield like a battering ram. Scott dodged at the last second and blasted it in the head from the side, only for the beam to go through due to how the robot had rendered itself intangible.
"Doom ONLY answers your query because it behooves DOOM to do so," The Latverian Dictator added a second after this condemnation, and Shaw grinned like the Devil due to how Doom had his back turned to him. Doom often voiced how he looked down on Shaw, but Shaw had known Doom long enough due to occasionally being useful to the dictator's aims that he had gained at least 'some' small understanding of Doom's psychological triggers, his inability to resist making everything about himself.
"The truth is that Doom does not know..." the Dictator said quietly, watching the Adaptoid fade through barriers to evade Scott's blast, retaliating by firing arrows with its bow, it's strange powers allowing it to phase the arrows as they traveled through the air right through the barrier, and Scott barely ducked before one would have gone into his heart.
Despite Scott surviving such an impressive attack, everyone, even Essex, felt their eyes go wide only at what Doom said instead of what Scott did. The threat Richards posed was THAT serious, they all realized, for Doom to be willing to admit such a thing, and not care who was nearby listening...
"Reed Richards was nothing to Doom before the fool had his accident in space with his fellows, and he was nothing after it. The only connection Doom has found is that Richards once attended the same University that Doom visited his genius upon before he became Latveria's leader...but left a full several years before Doom even arrived at that place. He had never commented on Doom, never criticized Doom in public or in private, in written or in verbal format, until 'after' his failed attempt. His degrees were unimpressive, and his activities after his radiation exposure but before he made the attempt on Doom ultimately amounted to little more than publicity stunts with the mutations the cosmic rays induced in his body."
Doom watched as Scott used Erg to distract the Adaptoid with an electrical blast that turned a corner Scott had lured it close to by constantly blasting at its feet to get its attention. The impact sent the Adaptoid slamming hard into a wall and now it struggled to pry itself loose from the crater. This momentarily drew their eyes back to the arena, Scott's ability to strategize, even in his mind-controlled state, intriguing even Doom more and more before he continued making it all about himself again.
"Then...then he pulls out a singularity device at the U.N. so complex Doom initially assumed he had to have stolen the designs from Doom somehow and attempts to kill Doom with it...and the only reason Doom visited no retaliation on the rest of his group was because they 'clearly' weren't in on it, given the panic they exhibited in trying to subdue him. They were as caught off guard as Doom was. A mistake Doom will not make again."
Doom turned to Shaw as the Adaptoid was slammed into another wall by Scott's blasts, followed up by barrages of electrical bolts from Erg's visor.
"Doom does not know why this 'Mister Fantastic' has chosen to burn what little his Reputation amounted to out on a blatant assassination attempt in broad daylight. Doom does not understand the unceasing, single minded determination Richards exhibits in repeatedly trying to slay Doom or destroy Latveria, or both after his escape from prison. But once Doom has defeated his schemes, Richards will rue whatever madness he has allowed to crawl into his heart in thinking he was good enough to overcome DOOM." Doom vowed as The Adaptoid managed to partially hit Scott with the energy laser.
Scott cried out, ducking behind a barrier, but hand signaling to Erg to keep firing so the Adaptoid could not press the attack, while a wounded Scott scrambled towards a fallen M60 being clutched by a destroyed LMD, and ripped the weapon out of the robot's grasp and fired it, his body naturally absorbing the recoil from the M60, allowing near perfect accuracy on the Adaptoid's head, firing his optic blast at the same time Erg fired his own.
The Adaptoid's head erupted in a shower of sparks as it threw the Shield at a barrier, making it ricochet and hit Erg in the chest, sending him flying but ultimately uninjured as the shield returned to the Adaptoid's hand, blocking the energy blast and machinegun fire from Scott.
Doom refocused on the trial, watching as Scott emptied the machine gun at the Adaptoid before charging, still clutching the weapon which he tossed, right in its direction with all his strength, and it phased the gun through it just as Scott broke into a Baseball Slide, firing his optic beam just as the machine gun finished passing through and the Adaptoid's molecular structure had started to re-adjust...
There was a flash of sparks, and an explosion that sent Scott flying, skidding painfully across an already damaged floor.
Being hit by the blast as its molecular structure had just started to become tangible had seemingly compromised its whole body, glowing cracks running down it from head to toe in thousands of little hairline fractures on the surface.
Scott rose, the upper part of his white medical scrubs burnt off, right shoulder and arm partly scorched and ripped off his helmet.
Essex peered closer in alarm as Scott unleashed a much stronger, golden blast that ripped its left arm clear off. Erg had gotten back up and the blank, emotionless Scott ordered a barrage of electrical blasts from all sides by Erg with a series of hand signals.
Erg nodded and unleashed a storm of electrical spheres from his eyes that traveled towards the rising Adaptoid, some hitting from the front, other blasts being redirected to hit him from behind while Scott hit it with a much more powerful blast of golden beams that made the entire facility shake, to the point Doom almost lost his balance.
The Adaptoid struggled at first, struggled to even move, but the cracks on its body grew wider and wider and it eventually exploded with such tremendous force that the entire arena was demolished...
The group of observers clustered around the observation port, all except for Essex, who remained seated.
The Blue skinned woman, Raven, finally decided to speak up some more as Scott rose out of the rubble, looking for Erg...
"That one...you can't afford to make even one mistake against him..." she said of Scott as he pulled a wounded Erg from the rubble, struggling to remember how to help through the fog of chemicals...
"Doom cannot be bothered to count how many of Doom's robotic servants have been lost because of the Avengers' resident Synthezoid..." Doom grumbled, as even he realized two relative rookies taking down an Adaptoid was nothing to sneer at.
Doom turned to Essex, still in the shadows on her throne.
"Doom is intrigued, if nothing else. It seems you've created something of promise, Essex..."
What Doom didn't know, what none of the evil, detestable people in that room suspected, was that Scott's ability to sense movement in general was a lot more sensitive than even Essex understood.
Scott, the whole time the conversation had played out, his brain was unconsciously registering every single physical movement that took place, including soundwaves moving from people's mouths.
He would not realize it until after he eventually escaped, but he had unwittingly 'recorded' the entire conversation in his subconscious...
...
Scott snapped awake in the Jet, in a cold sweat, head darting around looking for threats. He felt the power exit his eyes against his will due to the intensity of the suppressed memory surfacing yet couldn't penetrate the ruby quartz interior housing of his visor. No question. He could never, EVER risk taking it off during sleep. And maybe not even while awake.
He was trapped with it.
"You alright, Cyke?" Mortimer asked.
"Bad dreams. Hey Mort, you remember Essex ever putting you through weird tests while being observed by what are all very obviously criminals?"
"Uhhh...no?" Mort answered, confused.
"Good," Scott simply replied.
"Attention, please, we have breached Egyptian airspace, and we will be landing shortly..." Xavier announced over the intercom.
"This should be just an absolute delight..." Scott muttered acidly as the ship set down.
"This thing sure is a smooth ride!" Mortimer said to Xavier as he entered the passenger section, putting on the holographic disguise vest, while Scott picked up the backup Captain America Shield.
"I try not to abuse the immense advantages it offers Mortimer. Now, we must remember, we have not come here to hurt anyone or start a fight. Let me do all the talking, I speak the local dialects perfectly," Xavier assured, as he went to a storage closet, fetching tunics and sandals for them to wear.
"You just keep clothing for traveling to Egypt?" Mortimer asked as he was tossed a bundle.
"I traveled here frequently in my youth with my father. He was an archeologist, had some minor fame in his profession when he discovered the Cyttorak Ruby, believed to be mythical back then." Xavier answered. "I also maintain some relations with the Mutant network in Cairo, so I travel here from time to time to help treat medical complications arising from Mutant abilities."
"Any cases ever take you into the deep desert?" Scott asked as he put on the long tunic and sandals and headdress, Xavier helping him fasten it all to look authentic, to make him look like as much of a local as possible along with Mortimer at a distance. A long distance.
"I'm afraid not..." Xavier answered, putting on a headdress and one of the long cloaks. He then passed out water canteens and they then ventured out. It was nighttime, the sun was just barely finished setting but it was still warm.
"I landed us about a kilometer from the mine itself. Shouldn't be a long walk, and the nighttime will allow us the advantage of concealing our approach." Xavier said, pulling out a car remote like device, clicking a button on it and the hatch to the now actively camouflaged jet closed.
The three began walking through darkened sands and rolling dunes of dark gray, the eerie quiet of the desert hounding them invisibly all the while. It was a place of old ghosts, this desert.
"So Cyclops..." Xavier began. "Say you got rid of your abilities. What then?"
"Go into the Air Force," Scott answered, thinking of his Dad.
"Aviation? Interesting. May I ask what prompts your choice?"
"No," Scott answered.
"I 'am' trying to help you, you know," Xavier replied with sigh.
"You're trying to help your cause," Scott replied. "My cause is finding Essex and making sure she spends the rest of her days in a cell with rubber lining," Scott snapped. "And beyond figuring out a way to either control this power or getting rid of it, I don't much care about your research."
"I see. Well...can't win 'em all over..." Xavier said. "Fine, Cyclops, as you wish. If all you want is to stop Essex and figure your eyes out, that is, of course, your choice. You are under no obligation to take up the cause of prosperity for your people. It's an admittedly daunting task, one not easily committed to."
"Really, Charlie, you're underestimating how much Mutants even want to BE Mutants to begin with..." Mort remarked, spotting a fly, and catching it with his tongue.
"I maintain that neither one of you has anything to be ashamed over," Xavier countered.
"I'm just saying, can't be a movement if nobody wants to move..." Mort countered, taking a sip of water. "If I was some high-powered Mutant like that white haired fella-"
"White haired fella?" Xavier asked as they traversed the desert.
"Callisto didn't tell you?" Mort asked. "When Scott busted Fred 'n' me out, Fred had us go rescue another Mutant he believed Essex was afraid of. This guy was somethin' else, lemme tell 'ya..."
"Callisto made no mention of this mutant, just Cyclops..." Xavier trailed. "Curious...this Mutant, what could he do?"
"He could fly. Was super strong. Lasers bounced off him. All he needed was a cape, and his issues would eventually be collected in trade paperback." Scott snorted as he took a sip from his own canteen. "And I have no intention of describing him..."
Xavier was silent at this new information.
"Maybe you ain't as trusted as you thought..." Scott mused as he took another sip.
...
The Mine was a long stretch of ancient and new mouths in the ground and rock faces of the Black Desert, with special staircases dug along with tracks for carts to be led in and out of the mine itself. Xavier quickly made note of the number of sentries and spotters. The Mine was closed. They were fortunate in that regard. Corruption scandals regularly caused temporary closures of what was otherwise an extremely profitable mine.
"Four sentries in the east, at a cluster of mine entrances...three, in the west, close to a radio tower station. Helipad directly ahead of us..." Xavier observed, using the binocular function on the camera attached to his disguise vest.
"Just have to find someone in charge...there he is..." Xavier said under his breath, observing the Mine Foreman, a portly Egyptian man in a green jumpsuit, with a well-groomed beard. As soon as Xavier got a full body shot of him, he took a photo, and let the advance software within extrapolate a holographic disguise from it, and put the camera away into its special housing on the harness...
"Now we just need a way of separating him...wait...something's up..." Xavier said, seeing something approach in the distance. A single black helicopter, carrying a large crate, marked with Egyptian military symbols.
"What the hell?!" Xavier said, pulling out the camera from its housing again to get a closer look as the Helicopter deposited the crate, the sentries gathering around it along with the foreman.
Xavier watched as they pried open the crate on one side, then another, until they all laid eyes on someone wearing a very large, very heavy looking plated exoskeleton, colored red, with what looked to be two large, heavy looking barrel devices mounted on its gauntlets. It was clearly manned.
"Oh dear..." Xavier said, getting back behind cover. "Things just got complicated for all of us."
"The hell is that thing?" Mort asked.
"I've encountered stuff like that before. Nineteen-Sixty-Nine, in Cambodia, was the first time. The second was in Laos. Deployed by the Russians for covert operations." Xavier answered. "They're called Malinovoye Dinamo. This one looks used. Possibly a knockoff produced in China, or perhaps here from some of the parts from bombers that other countries have been sending here recently...but why deploy one here?"
"It's a valuable Mine, isn't it? Maybe they're finally starting to take security seriously," Scott suggested.
"You wouldn't need a Dynamo Suit to do that. Just extra men and guns, and you can achieve the same thing for a fraction of the price," Xavier replied as quietly as he could, staring hard as the Suit Operator moved into the largest mine entrance. "Dynamo Suits generate powerful directed electrical blasts capable of punching through tank armor, with voltages so high they can flash fry someone to dust in seconds. Deploying them here, while it makes sense at a cursory glance, is ultimately overkill without some overriding threat. If it was for common security, the general maintenance costs alone for daily operation would quickly become unsustainable."
"So why deploy one here?" Mort asked.
"Because I think there may be a problem in the Mine. One that requires a Dynamo Suit to help put it to rest." Xavier said. "But its all a moot point now. I cannot, in good conscience, risk the lives of my charges any more than I already have. We're going. We'll find another way."
Xavier turned and started the trek back to the Jet, when he heard the sounds of feet rapidly crunching against black volcanic rock.
He turned...
Scott was already running into the encampment along with Mortimer.
"Oh no..." Xavier exclaimed quietly, running in after him...