Chapter Thirty-Three: Destination

Despite Hyde’s hefty frame, he maneuvered that colossal truck with a master’s touch—wielding it like a juggernaut forged for the road. Even on the ruined expanse of Ingram Street, Hyde could make the massive vehicle drift as if the battered asphalt were an open plain. Naturally, they encountered many of the dazed townsfolk, those poor souls now puppets under Tuki’s control, wandering aimlessly through the streets. But Hyde had clearly never learned the meaning of “yield to pedestrians.”

He didn’t slow down one bit; instead, he thundered right over them. Crunch after crunch, the unfortunate people didn’t even have time to scream before being crushed beneath the wheels. Trailing behind the truck were four pitch-black vans, loyal as the most devoted bodyguards, following Hyde with unwavering vigilance.

Inside one of those vans, disguised as Greliru, Zhong Shenxiu rode with the driver, the squad leader, and the ever-chatty Raynor. The four of them occupied the same vehicle as before, but now, with all the supplies already offloaded, the interior space felt vast and hollow. Yet, even with all that room, the squad leader and Raynor still huddled together, pressed close as ever. Zhong Shenxiu, respecting their closeness, found himself a quiet corner and sat alone.

He was curious—where was this so-called “Lord Hyde” rushing them off to now? After gathering supplies in such a hurry, what was the urgent destination? Was it a frantic escape? And then there was the mysterious cube in the back of the truck, so dense with power that even his own magic couldn’t penetrate it. These people, still lucid within the territory dominated by Tuki, hid too many secrets on their persons.

Zhong Shenxiu had a hunch: if he could unravel the mysteries surrounding these people, he would likely discover the truth about Tuki and, perhaps, finally learn Wanda’s whereabouts. Piece by piece, the clues were falling into place; this “Lord Hyde” must know far more than he let on. It seemed he was finally on the right path. By following Hyde under the guise of Greliru, he believed he’d soon uncover the heart of the mystery. And then, with over a thousand units of magical power at his disposal, he could eliminate the mastermind, rescue Wanda, and complete his main quest—delightful indeed.

Everything now seemed clear and within reach. No wonder the Skrulls were so formidable in Secret Invasion. With the ability to flawlessly mimic others, anyone could become the most terrifying spy—after all, who would ever suspect that someone with a perfectly identical face and voice was an impostor?

A few more minutes passed. Thanks to Hyde’s frantic driving, their destination was reached in no time: a small, somewhat classical villa perched on the edge where Eighth Street met Ingram Street. With its white walls and simple gray tiles, it looked like an unfinished relic from decades past.

The villa stood far from any main thoroughfare, surrounded by barren wasteland. It was so secluded that the place exuded a profound solitude. Even Zhong Shenxiu, who’d lived on Ingram Street for over a month, had never known such a villa existed—proof enough of its remoteness.

Wait a minute.

He took a closer look at the villa’s exterior. Suddenly, a realization struck him: every other building he’d seen was made of chocolate or biscuits, but this villa was constructed of genuine lime and cement! Could it be…? Zhong Shenxiu cast his gaze around. To the naked eye, nothing seemed amiss.

But what about with a pulse of magic? As his wave-like magical energy rippled outward, he discovered that once his probe reached Eighth Street, it was blocked, just as before with the mysterious cube—completely cut off. Within Ingram Street, his magic could stretch freely, probing and sensing at will, but the moment it crossed into Eighth Street, all response vanished. Moreover, the area of blockage seemed to form a subtle arc, gradually spreading outward—almost as if…

A vast circular barrier was enclosing Ingram Street.

If this was the range of the world-altering power Wanda had described as belonging to Qiu Bi, then… Once again, Zhong Shenxiu thought of the mysterious cube: both blocked his magical probing, suggesting that the cube and the barrier might share the same origin. Could they both be manifestations of Qiu Bi—Wanda’s chaos magic?

—

Outside the perimeter surrounding Ingram Street.

Fitz stared intently at the screen, where lines of numbers and densely packed parameters flickered and changed. His unwavering focus was as if he were wrestling with some monumental scientific challenge. Whenever he noticed the slightest shift, he’d quickly lift his head—either barking orders into his radio or simply shouting across the room, prompting the diligent S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to recalibrate their monitoring equipment.

Fitz was held in the highest esteem by the agents, seen as the very model of excellence, brought in by none other than the legendary Coulson—the agent hailed as perfection itself. No one dared slack off in the slightest, regardless of Fitz’s youth; their execution of his instructions was nothing short of meticulous. If he called for an adjustment to 5.21 degrees, they would never set it to 5.22.

Coulson stood silently behind them, watching it all unfold. His usual polite smile had faded, replaced by a look of shifting uncertainty. From time to time, his eyes would rest on the red glow that hovered like half a smooth eggshell over the outskirts of Ingram Street.

Then his gaze would drift to Fitz’s screen, dizzying in its barrage of data and metrics. At that moment, Coulson was struck by the vital importance of high-tech specialists in the field. If he ever had a chance to assemble another team, this experience had taught him to prioritize not just combat prowess, but also scientific expertise. Top-tier hackers, biologists, physicists—each role was essential if they were to tackle the multifaceted challenges ahead.

With technology advancing so rapidly, Coulson sometimes felt he was barely keeping up. Was he nearing retirement age already? The truth was, his mind wandered only because for now, he had nothing else to do.

Ever since May had mentioned that “Professor X,” she’d boarded a plane and set out again, with no word since. As for Professor X himself, Coulson had a vague recollection—someone with a mutated gene, yes, a mutant. These mutants, he remembered, kept an exceptionally low profile, their numbers so few that hardly anyone knew of these special humans born with extraordinary abilities.

Coulson’s knowledge came from an incidental discovery during a previous mission. Otherwise, he might never have known that mutants existed at all. Would Professor X help them? Coulson wondered.

Suddenly—

An alarm blared from Fitz’s computer.

Coulson snapped from his reverie and strode quickly to Fitz’s side. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“The particles—those unknown particles I mentioned—they’re growing even more active…no, agitated! It’s like watching a provoked lion!” Fitz exclaimed, pointing at the screen.

There, clusters of particles formed a shimmering arc, quivering violently as if under enormous pressure.

—

Meanwhile, Zhong Shenxiu attempted to probe the area with magical pulses a few more times, but each attempt was blocked. He finally gave up, unwilling to waste what remained of his precious magical energy.