"What did you pick up, Herbie?" Clint already had his bow drawn and aimed at the opening above, his eyes narrowing as he called out to the little floating robot.
But Herbie didn't answer right away. Its square head flickered with lines of changing code until a series of rapidly climbing numbers appeared on its display.
"...1,450… 1,670… beep-beep—total count: 2,235 life signatures."
"What else could it be?"Ethan muttered, skillfully manipulating the massive Hulkbuster. The cockpit was spacious—he didn't even feel cramped despite wearing Magneto's helmet.
With heavy, echoing steps, the armor approached the opening. A bright white floodlight on the helmet switched on, illuminating the depths of the cavern below.
What the light revealed made the air itself seem to tighten—creatures clinging to the cliff walls, their bodies glistening with a dull ochre sheen that stood out sharply against the darkness.
They were vaguely humanoid, their limbs muscular and warped, exuding raw savagery and brute strength. Around their waists hung ragged scraps of cloth—the only "clothing" they possessed, torn and filthy beyond repair.
But the most striking feature was their eyes—bulging, fish-like orbs that glowed an eerie green as they darted restlessly, searching, hunting.
"...Oh, fuck!"
Clint's curse burst out as he leaned over the edge. He loosed an arrow without hesitation. It struck the cavern wall and burst apart with a sharp crack—flooding the cave with blinding white light.
A moment later, a chorus of shrill, bestial screams erupted from below—thousands of throats crying out in rage and agony all at once.
The Morlocks didn't retreat from the flare. Instead, they began to climb faster, their furious roars shaking the cavern like a living storm.
"Kreeee—kreeee—!" Their screeches were filled with anger and hatred, a sound so piercing it felt like the echo of some ancient curse.
The cacophony merged into one deafening roar, reverberating off the cavern walls until it became a howling vortex of madness.
"This—this doesn't make sense. They're supposed to hate light." Clint swallowed hard, slowly backing away. He'd run into these creatures once before out west, and back then, a few glowsticks and some yelling had been enough to send them scattering.
So why not now?
Had they evolved—adapted to the darkness even further underground?
Or were the wasteland rumors true… that these "Subterraneans" were nature's antibodies—earth's own creation to wipe out what remained of humanity?
"They've probably just been starving too long. Not much to eat under what's left of the Baxter Building."
"Don't come any closer—let me handle this."
Ethan raised his left hand and clenched his fist, halting the others before they could move in.
Twin barrels on the Hulkbuster's left arm began to glow with an icy blue light, energy pooling into a concentrated sphere at the center.
On the HUD, holographic symbols and numerical readouts flickered rapidly, marking the charge sequence.
"Charging complete. Weapon ready," came the soft voice of the armor's onboard AI.
A dozen Morlocks had already reached the upper ledge, snarling and clawing forward with rabid ferocity.
Whether driven by hunger or ignorance of the armor's might, they charged on all fours, shrieking.
Ethan didn't flinch.
With a subtle movement, the cannon fired—twin beams of azure light slicing through the air.
In an instant, the charging Morlocks were reduced to smoldering husks, the stench of burnt flesh spreading thick and acrid through the air.
"Ugh, god—that's worse than the New York sewers!" Clint gagged, covering his mouth and nose. The combination of scorched bodies and the creatures' unwashed, subterranean musk created an almost unbearable stench.
"Remaining life signatures: 2,219," Herbie reported, floating beside Ethan.
Its sensors had already identified the armored man as the squad's leader—the one most likely to avenge the fallen Fantastic Four.
Ethan stepped to the edge of the crater, loose stones tumbling away beneath the armor's feet. He extended his arm, and the cannon flared again, sweeping across the depths below.
"Remaining: 2,174," Herbie's voice came through the comms, its scanners constantly updating.
The armor's laser fire poured down like a storm, every blast carving swaths through the climbing horde. Yet for every group that fell, more poured out of the abyss.
"Remaining: 1,985."
The cavern thundered with chaos—beastly shrieks mingling with the rhythmic pulse of the cannon, each blast like a war drum beat echoing through the dark.
"Remaining: 1,870."
Gradually, the noise began to fade.Ethan's strikes were methodical and precise, each shot calculated, cutting the enemy down with ruthless efficiency.
The Hulkbuster stood tall and immovable at the edge of the pit, like a divine sentinel. The azure beams of its cannon swept through the darkness—lines of death that burned the Morlocks to ash.
"Remaining: 1,530," Herbie continued to report as the firing went on without pause.
Finally, when the little robot called out, "Remaining: 1,006," the cavern fell silent. The rustling and screeching had vanished. The surviving creatures had fled back into the depths.
Ethan glanced at the faint smoke rising from the cannon's barrel. Inside the cockpit, he spoke evenly, "Report remaining energy level."
"The engagement lasted nine minutes," the AI replied. "Current energy reserves: 98%."
Ethan walked over to where Clint was slumped against the wall, half-dozing. He lifted one massive arm and snapped his metal fingers sharply.
"Huh? Wh—what?"
Clint blinked awake, rubbing his beard. He'd been having a pleasant dream, too.
"Let's move. There's nothing left worth staying for."
Without ceremony,Ethan reached down, grabbed the still-groggy Clint, and hoisted him onto his shoulder. He did the same for the other three.
Reaching the bottom of the crater where they'd descended earlier, the Hulkbuster's thrusters ignited with a roar of blue flame, lifting them upward through the dust and darkness—Herbie floating close behind.
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