"With the integration of these unstable molecules, the T-1050 can smoothly lie on the operating table and undergo their super gene fusion."
"Sounds like a decent plan." Homelander flicked the ash off his cigar. "What are the consequences?"
"The Skrulls undergoing the transplant surgery will completely lose their genetic mimicry ability." Skynet answered calmly. "Sir, what do you think of this plan?"
"Do it, Skynet."
Homelander agreed to the plan without hesitation, his fingers wandering casually over Skynet's smooth back.
"They're just a bunch of alien refugees. Depriving them of their mimicry ability might actually be a good thing for them; at the very least, it will teach them how to behave and be submissive low-class citizens of Earth."
"There is no such thing as a free lunch in this World, especially not a lunch from Vought International. They eat my food, live in my housing, they have to pay some price."
"Compared to being blasted into cosmic dust by Kree warships, or being torn to shreds by angry humans on Earth, merely losing the ability to shapeshift... this is the greatest mercy I can grant them."
...
Alaska, Vought International Skrull quarantine zone.
The cold wind, carrying snow and sand, scraped against the thick glass curtain wall.
Nick Fury sat in his empty and lifeless office. The room's heating was turned up high, but it couldn't warm his cold heart in the slightest.
"Application for Nutritional Supplement Rationing for Skrulls in Zone B", "Quarantine Zone Sewer Network Maintenance Log", "Approval for the Installation of Two Additional Thermostatic Heaters"
Fury stared at these documents, a sense of grievance and powerlessness lingering in his heart.
As the former Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., the most powerful spymaster on Earth, why did he give up his dignity to come to Vought International?
He originally thought that joining Vought meant grasping the greatest resources in this World.
He thought he could still be like he was in the past, commanding troops, devising strategies, using iron-fisted means to uproot the tumors threatening Earth, and regaining control of power.
Yet he didn't expect that he would only be able to act as a damn zookeeper for aliens!
All his work consisted of approving synthetic protein rations for these green-skinned refugees, handling disputes over their living space, and managing their trivial matters of eating, drinking, and excreting!
The World is facing a huge threat, those radical Skrulls could trigger World War III at any time, yet Nick Fury, who has the ability to save the World, is trapped here, unable to do anything!
"Motherfucker..."
Fury cursed loudly, grabbed the wine bottle on the table, and took a large gulp directly.
"You look terrible, Fury."
A low, elegant voice came from the shadowed corner of the room.
Fury stopped his movements. He didn't reach for his gun—he knew it was useless—but simply slammed the wine bottle onto the desk wearily.
"Oh, my dear Fury. You look just like a lion locked in a cage, without even the strength to roar."
In the shadows, a touch of dark red firelight gradually lit up.
Mephisto was wearing a dark red embossed suit, appearing leisurely on the sofa opposite Fury.
This wasn't the first time Mephisto had come during this period.
Since the Battle of Chernobyl, Mephisto would come to this frozen land from time to time to harass him.
Demons always like to take advantage of people when they are at their most vulnerable, but every previous time, Fury had mercilessly cursed him away.
But this time, he didn't do so. He suddenly wanted to hear what kind of trick this devil wanted to play today.
"You look very idle." Fury stared coldly at Mephisto.
"I can always make time for the friends I value most." Seeing that Fury didn't drive him away like before, the smile at the corners of Mephisto's mouth deepened.
"Won't you pour me a glass?"
Mephisto glanced at the wine bottle in Fury's hand.
Fury ignored him and took a drink himself.
"A ruthless way to treat a guest." Mephisto didn't mind, snapping his fingers lightly in the air, and a crystal goblet swirling with red liquid appeared out of thin air in his hand.
He gently swirled the wine glass, striking the pose of a close friend having a heart-to-heart talk.
"Do you know why I like humans, Fury?" Mephisto raised his glass in a toast.
"Because you are always full of contradictions. You consider yourselves the spirits of all things, yet you always pin your hopes on powers that simply do not belong to you."
Fury was expressionless, saying nothing.
Mephisto didn't care about Fury's coldness and continued to speak on his own: "Fury, we haven't known each other for a short time. You are a smart man, and an extremely excellent conspirator."
"But have you ever thought about why you always end up in this state?"
Fury remained silent.
"Because you have never believed in yourself." Mephisto said with a tone of pity.
"Recall your life. When you were young, you met Carol Danvers, you met those Skrulls that fell from the sky. You relied on them to climb step by step to the position of Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"Later, you discovered that those aliens didn't have enough power. So you started searching the World for those freaks. You found Captain America, you found Iron Man, you pieced them together into the Avengers. You hid behind them, relying on their fists to maintain your so-called peace."
Mephisto looked around the empty office.
"And now, the Avengers have fallen apart, and your S.H.I.E.L.D. no longer belongs to you. You are at your wit's end, and you ran to wag your tail and beg that actor draped in the stars and stripes. You thought Vought would give you an army, but in the end, they only gave you a broom."
The devil's words were like sharp scalpels, cutting open the things Fury was least willing to face in his heart.
Fury's cheeks trembled slightly, but he still kept his lips tightly closed.
"You are always relying on others, Fury! And facts have proven that others are never reliable!"
Mephisto suddenly raised his volume.
"One must rely on oneself!"
This sentence finally got a reaction from Fury; his breathing became heavy, and complex emotions flashed in his eyes.
Mephisto captured this subtle change; he moved in front of Fury and leaned against the edge of the desk.
"I admit, in that previous deal, I was played by you." Mephisto shrugged, frankly admitting his failure, "So, you have earned my respect."
"The Fire of Vengeance you have now is not something someone else gave you as charity; that is something you tricked out of me using your own ability. It belongs to you."
"That power is sleeping within you. It is yearning to burn, it is yearning to punish."
"And if you want to reawaken it, the method is very simple."
Mephisto lowered his voice, as if sharing an extremely tempting secret.
"You don't need to beg anyone."
"What you need is just to harvest the souls of those sinners..."