Bab 35: Mercy?
Bruce looked at Pepper, still holding her face as her tear-filled eyes stayed shut, resigned. He sighed and gently let go, leaving her standing but visibly shaken. Her pale face, stained with tears and blood marks from his palm, stared at him in confusion. He took a deep breath, his expression softening for the briefest moment as he said, "It's not my choice to make." He looked over at the glass chamber where Morgan lay, her gaze sharp, almost fiery. "Morgan will decide what happens to you."
Pepper's eyes shifted from Bruce's face to her daughter, who watched them from behind the thick barrier. There was something in the girl's gaze, a weight far beyond her years.
Without wasting any more time, Bruce approached Morgan's containment chamber. He examined the complex web of tubes and wires connected to her—a grotesque display of Hydra's twisted genius, using alien technology mixed with Stark tech and Skrull engineering. Pulling her out without understanding the setup could endanger her life. He pressed his hand to the glass, his voice soft, "I'm sorry, Morgan… I wasn't there for you when you needed me the most. But I'm here now, and I'll make this right."
Turning to the group, he said, "Selina, Harley, Natasha, I need you to guard this place. Don't let anyone in or out. The rest of you can stay if you want, or leave. I want no interruptions. As for you fucking doctors," He glanced at the doctors and scientists. "I'll kill you all regardless of your situation, in the most painful way possible after I save her... That you can count on."
Harley, Clint, and Jennifer decided to keep watch outside, so they took the elevator back to the surface. The rest decided to stay there.
Morgan's gaze didn't waver, her tired yet resolute eyes locked on him. She was aware of his presence and her fingers twitched as if to acknowledge his words. Bruce gave her a reassuring nod, knowing that she was still fighting despite everything. But he also saw the fatigue, the toll her confinement had taken on her.
Over the next four days, Bruce worked tirelessly. He studied the machinery around Morgan's containment, marveling at the technology while feeling sickened by its purpose. He recognized elements of Stark's tech, customized and repurposed, with alien elements he'd never encountered before. Hydra had mixed Stark's inventions with Skrull and other alien technologies salvaged from the New York invasion, turning it into a nightmarish prison.
Every so often, he'd catch Morgan watching him with a flicker of curiosity or even hope. He'd give her a small, reassuring smile, hoping she understood he wouldn't let her down.
On the fifth day, after sleepless hours of analyzing circuits, decoding schematics, and hacking into encrypted data logs, he finally pieced together the last of Hydra's intricate system. It was a draining process, one that required every ounce of his intellect and patience, but he knew he was close.
"You figured it out?" Selina asked, seeing him sitting in front of a screen with a satisfied smile. She had seen that expression countless times before, whenever he'd figured out a case or unraveled a mystery. She knew the look well.
"Yeah," He said, looking over at the machine.
Natasha, Sue, Mystique, and Pepper took a deep breath, feeling relief, hope, and a flicker of joy, emotions they hadn't felt in a long time. Well, Pepper was happy, but then she thought if she was really feeling this emotion or just pretending to be, so she wasn't sure what to think. While the doctors, scientists and workers were trembling in fear, waiting for their death.
Bruce made the final adjustments and then entered a set of override commands into the control panel. With a deep breath, he pulled the lever that initiated the shutdown sequence. Slowly, the tubes and wires connecting Morgan to the machine began to retract, and the hum of power decreased until there was a deep silence.
The glass barrier released with a soft hiss, and the machine slowly put down Morgan on the floor. Bruce ran to her and so did Natasha. She was ready with a big piece of cloth to cover her naked body, as Bruce was taking off his jacket and putting it on her.
"Let me," Natasha said softly, seeing him taking off his jacket. Morgan looked weak and disoriented, her eyes still closed and her limbs limp. "It's okay... I got you," She whispered, gently covering her with the cloth.
Bruce carefully stepped into the chamber, lifting Morgan in his arms. She was lighter than he expected, her frail body evidence of the torment she'd endured.
Morgan's eyes fluttered open, meeting his with an expression of vulnerability and relief. Her voice was a mere whisper, "Dad... It's really you... I thought no one would come."
Bruce's chest tightened, and he whispered back, "I'll always come for you, Morgan. Sorry, it took me so long to get here..."
As he carried her out, the others watched in silence, understanding the gravity of the moment. He looked at Pepper, who watched with a mix of guilt and desperation. She whispered, "Morgan... I..."
Morgan's expression hardened, but there was a trace of sadness in her eyes. She finally spoke, her voice stronger than expected, "You let them do this to me… you were supposed to protect me." She was tired, and her eyes felt heavy, yet through sheer force of will, she forced them to stay open.
Pepper, her face pale, bowed her head in shame. "I was… manipulated. But it doesn't change what I did. I don't expect forgiveness."
Bruce looked to Morgan, "Please, rest. You can decide it later."
"I... I'll never forgive her," Morgan replied as her eyes closed again. She fell asleep... A real sleep after years of torment and nightmare.
Bruce gave Pepper a sympathetic look as he walked past her, then carried Morgan to Selina. She carefully took the girl in her arms and nodded at Bruce. "Take her outside. I don't want her to stay in this place any longer." he then looked back toward Natasha. "Take her to the safe house. I'll meet you all there."
"What about them?" Selina asked, looking over at the workers, doctors, and scientists who stood waiting.
"I'm gonna spend some time with them now. They tortured her for years, it's only fair, that I return the favor, right? Unlike Pepper, they weren't brainwashed. They chose this path... Time to pay the price for their decision. Besides, I gotta take care of my old body and all the Infinity energy they have gathered."
Sue and Mystique gave Bruce a slight nod as they left the lab. Pepper followed behind them.
In the silence that followed, Bruce's presence seemed to darken, his expression settling into something cold and merciless. The workers, doctors, and scientists stood paralyzed with terror, realizing that there would be no escape, no pleas that would sway him.
He moved slowly, taking in their expressions—fear, regret, and horror. He started with the lead scientist, a tall man with graying hair, whose hands were still stained with remnants of the chemicals they'd pumped into Morgan's system. Seeing Bruce's eyes, he fell to his knees.
Bruce crouched in front of him, his voice low and deadly calm. "Did you even flinch when you hooked up those tubes? Did you feel anything?" The scientist stammered, a faint whimper escaping him, but Bruce cut him off. "You had a choice, and you made it. You must been excited to get to experiment on the Infinity energy and play with alien technology, right? Well, I'm pretty sure I can help you with that."
He grabbed the guy by his hair and began to drag him toward the glass tube where Morgan was...
Bruce's grip tightened on the man's hair as he dragged him closer to the glass chamber, the place that had become Morgan's prison and torture chamber. Every whimper and plea from the scientist only seemed to fuel his resolve, his eyes glinting with grim satisfaction. He pressed a series of buttons on the control panel, reactivating the mechanisms that had once bound Morgan.
"Let's see how you enjoy your own creation," He muttered, his voice devoid of mercy as he activated the restraints.
The scientist's eyes widened in horror as mechanical arms descended, holding him in place, clamping onto his wrists and ankles, stretching his limbs with an unnatural rigidity. His body trembled as Bruce calmly adjusted the machinery to bypass any sedatives or anesthesia—there would be no reprieve from the pain.
"You built this to drain every ounce of energy and willpower from her. Every needle, every tube... I'm gonna put them all in you," Bruce said, his voice filled with contempt as he activated a series of alien syringes attached to long, snakelike tubes.
One by one, the tubes extended towards the scientist, each needle finding its mark with precision. The first one pierced through the skin at the base of his spine, and he screamed as the needle drilled deeper, connecting directly to his spinal column.
"ARGGGGG!!!!" The guy screamed.
Bruce watched with a cold detachment as the man's back arched involuntarily, his face contorted in agony. The tubes then latched onto his arms, his neck, and finally his chest, each one burrowing in without mercy, extracting blood, bone marrow, and tissue samples.
The scientist's voice was raw with pain, but Bruce showed no sign of relenting. He leaned in close, his voice a quiet, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it fun? Why are you screaming like a little bitch? Huh? Motherfucker."
He activated another dial, and the machine began to siphon the man's bone marrow and blood as slowly as possible while increasing the pain. The scientist's skin grew pallid as the essence was drained from his body, his eyes rolling back in agony as his muscles spasmed, the pain rippling through every nerve.
"Please... stop..." he gasped, his voice barely audible.
Bruce tilted his head, feigning contemplation. "Stop? This is mercy compared to what you did to my daughter."
As the process continued, Bruce stood back, watching with an icy detachment. Each agonizing moment was a reminder of the horrors this man and his colleagues had inflicted on Morgan, and he intended to make sure none of them escaped the price of their cruelty.
The other scientists and doctors, witnessing their colleague's fate, stood paralyzed, their faces pale, realizing that this was only the beginning. Bruce turned his gaze to them, his voice calm, unfeeling.
"Don't worry. I haven't forgotten about any of you. You'll each get your turn."
As the lead scientist's body finally slumped, lifeless, within the glass chamber, Bruce turned away, his face darkened with a blend of rage and satisfaction. He scanned the remaining group, each scientist and doctor now frozen in horror, realizing that escape was no longer a possibility. Among them, two Skrulls shifted nervously, their emerald-green skin appearing mottled under the sterile light, each avoiding Bruce's gaze. But he had noticed them, and his attention sharpened as he approached.
One of the Skrulls took a tentative step back, their alien features twisting in an attempt at a plea. "P-please, we were only following orders. We didn't have a choice."
"Choice?" Bruce's voice was icy, contemptuous. "Every one of you had a choice. Just like I have one now."
With a swift, ruthless motion, he grabbed the first Skrull by the arm, forcing them onto the cold, steel floor. Their cry of pain was cut off as he held them down, unsheathing a small, razor-sharp knife. Without hesitation, he began severing their arm at the joint, methodically, ensuring the pain radiated through every fiber of the Skrull's being. The alien's voice broke into a guttural scream, filling the room, as Bruce proceeded to repeat the process on the remaining limbs.
The second Skrull tried to bolt but was intercepted by Bruce's heat vision, severing his arms and legs.
With the Skrulls now reduced to limbless bodies writhing in silent agony, Bruce calmly dragged each of them to the disposal hatch. He opened it, revealing the inky blackness of the ocean depths below. One by one, he threw them out, their bodies tumbling downward until they vanished into the crushing pressure of the ocean's depths, where they would be obliterated by the force.
Bruce returned to the remaining scientists, each one visibly shaken, some openly sobbing, others staring in numb disbelief. His gaze swept over them, and he picked the next in line—a woman who'd documented each agonizing experiment done to Morgan.
As he approached her, she began to cry, her voice hitching with desperate pleas. But he ignored them, his focus absolute. He would ensure they each felt the same torment they had inflicted on Morgan, sparing none.
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