Mod Superhero

Chapter 7.50 - Midas 2

The flagship of Ava Savanus hung in the air above the Rocky Mountains—

Directly above where Vault Alpha should have been.

Midas was on the main deck, gripping the railing in impotent fury. His knuckles were white, and the interior lighting pulsed angrily. A servant biomech strolled over to him. Midas whirled around, smacking the tray. Drinks crashed to the floor. Overhead lights flickered and burst. Then he fixed his eyes on the mech, right in what passed for its eyes, and bent the full force of his power on it.

The mech's joints whirred as Midas folded the creature inward on itself. It stooped, like it was cowering from him. Its joints creaked and squealed as Midas pushed them past their limiters, before finally snapping under strain. Circuitry sparked, letting off a tang of ozone before melting completely. Midas made sure to heat up the circuits around its cloned brain. Hydraulic fluid, brain matter, and whatever other liquids were inside pooled beneath the crumpled wreck.

Midas hissed, and then promptly sucked in a breath. He'd been clenching his entire body, but couldn't bring himself to stop.

Killing—destroying the servant mech hadn't helped. He didn't feel better. Not at all. Angry, irate, furious, enraged—there wasn't a fucking word in the English language that could begin to describe what he was feeling.

He doubted even killing Emmett Laraway or his entire family would suffice. Midas wanted to take the flagship, accelerate it until its engines melted and crash it into the White House. Turn the lab's fusion reactor to critical and nuke Belport.

Then maybe—fucking maybe—his anger would be satiated.

Bastion's voice came through the ship's speakers. "Your heart rate and blood pressure are dangerously high. Administering a sedative."

Before Midas could unclench his jaw, drugs flowed into his bloodstream. It was one of the few bodily enhancements he'd succumbed to. A tiny store of drugs inside his body for emergencies. Just the basics—amphetamines and sedatives, and adrenaline to restart his heart.

Warmth flowed through Midas's body, like he'd shot a comforting blanket into his veins. The anger was still there, but was distant, like someone had taken that part of him and locked it in a padded room on the other side of the ship.

Lights across the main deck returned to normal. Midas let out a sigh. He was still angry—the rational part of him knew that, but it was manageable now.

Midas walked back over to the viewing window and peered down on the ruins of Vault Alpha. All that was left was a hole in the side of the mountain, like a scabbed-over puncture wound. Rounding up the former inmates was going much, much slower than projected. In fact, less than one hundred had been recovered so far. A far cry from the thousand they'd projected by now... How many inmates had they expected to recover?

Midas smirked. "Bastion, you might have overdone the sedative."

No wonder Ava had been drinking so much.

Either way, Vault Beta was still behind schedule, so it was probably a blessing that they hadn't recovered all the inmates yet.

"All things in due time," Midas said to himself. Then, "Bastion, we'll need to speed up our plans for world domination."

It might've been the sedative, but it felt like Bastion took a moment to reply.

"Do you have specific orders or should I contact Ava Savanus for you to discuss new plans?"

Midas waved a dismissive hand. "No, no, that won't be necessary. I'm just thinking out loud."

He looked out across the Rocky Mountains and the surrounding forest. It was lush and green, and ripe for development. There was little in nature that couldn't be improved with polymer and pavement. With Bastion's help, they could be strategic with which hiking routes and slivers of scenery were kept while maximizing urban development. There was plenty of room for luxury in the mountains—both commercial and residential. Maybe instead of rebuilding Vault Alpha, they could use demiplane passageways to mine and hollow out the mountains without disturbing paying customers.