Tony's plan was brutally simple.
Logan would charge in first, openly and loudly, drawing every gun and mutant in the facility toward him. He was effectively unkillable. Small arms meant nothing, and even heavier weapons only slowed him down. If ordinary mutant clones appeared, Logan could handle them. If a Magneto clone showed up, Tony would deal with it from the air using non-metallic rounds.
One on the ground. One in the sky.
While all eyes were on them, Rowan Mercer would slip into the base alone. His job was clean and surgical: kill Sandell Reiss, destroy the research, and then rejoin the fight. Even if they were forced to withdraw afterward, the mission would still be a success as long as Reiss and his work were gone.
Rowan had agreed immediately.
One hundred mutant clones with overlapping abilities, supported by armed security, made a frontal assault a losing proposition. But Reiss himself was the lynchpin. With his psychic abilities, Rowan could extract every memory Reiss had, locate every backup, and erase the project completely. There would be no "Reiss Two" rising from the ashes.
Rowan had no interest in building an army of cloned mutants for himself. They lacked autonomy, relied on centralized control systems, and would be catastrophically vulnerable to hackers or AI threats. Worse, maintaining such a program required facilities, time, and attention that Rowan would rather spend strengthening his magic.
His objective was absolute containment.
Every clone would be eliminated. Every trace of the technology destroyed in public view. Privately, Rowan intended to preserve a fragment of the data, only as insurance. If one day he needed something specific, a rare genetic component for magical materials, it would be useful. Nothing more.
Inside the facility, alarms blared.
"Boss!" Commander Donald burst into the control room. "Wolverine has breached the perimeter!"
Reiss frowned. "Why are you panicking over one man?"
Wolverine finding the base was unexpected, but hardly terrifying. Reiss had studied him extensively. A fading relic kept alive by chemicals and brute healing. With proper preparation, Logan was manageable.
Donald thrust a tablet into his hands. "Look."
Reiss's expression froze.
The feed showed a younger Wolverine, fast and relentless, tearing through guards like paper. This wasn't a skirmish. It was slaughter. Gunfire barely slowed him. Explosives knocked him down, but he always got back up. The guards' discipline cracked within minutes. Fear spread faster than bullets.
If nothing changed, Wolverine would reach the inner labs.
"Interesting," Reiss muttered.
Natasha Romanoff watched from the side, her concern carefully rehearsed. "Mr. Reiss, your base seems… compromised. This won't involve me, will it?"
Internally, she calculated escape routes. Chaos was opportunity.
Reiss smiled reassuringly. "Please don't worry. Go to my quarters and rest. I'll handle this personally."
"Oh?" she said softly, brushing past him. "Then I'll be waiting."
Once she was gone, Reiss's face hardened.
"So eager to die," he snarled. "Very well."
He marched to the primary cloning chamber. "Activate the Magneto units."
At his command, nine pods opened.
Nine identical young men stepped out, eyes vacant, minds linked to the system. Each was a clone of Magneto.
Reiss had never limited himself to one clone per subject. Power was duplicated in batches. Among the hundred clones were multiple versions of the strongest mutants ever recorded. Individually, they were weaker than their originals. Together, they were devastating.
The Magneto clones moved as one.
On the battlefield, the tide turned instantly. Nine overlapping magnetic fields locked onto Logan. He was slammed against the wall, pinned in place. Reinforced steel tore itself free from the structure and skewered his limbs, immobilizing him completely.
Reiss watched the feed with satisfaction.
Wolverine was not invincible.
As for where Reiss had obtained so much genetic material, the answer lay in old sins buried deep within classified history. The aftermath of early mutant conflicts. Black-market research. Military programs quietly dismantled and inherited. Data passed from one shadowed figure to the next until it landed in Reiss's hands.
Almost every notable mutant, save one erased entirely, existed somewhere in his database.
And now, his creations were about to prove their worth.