Begin from the original form of torture and become immortal

Chapter 1738 Connors' Rebirth
As he spoke, the laboratory lights seemed to sharpen instantly, and the electronic buzzing in the air took on a clear, almost inhuman intensity. "—I will immediately and unconditionally activate 'Bastion Protocol'! Lock down the entire Alpha Quadrant containment area! Including 'inviting' them out, along with their equipment and the stench of your S.H.I.E.L.D. bureaucracy, using the laboratory's own methods—non-lethal but absolutely unforgettable! I mean what I say! Don't even think about challenging this with any backdoors or so-called 'Director's authority'! The highest authority here belongs only to Tony Stark!"

He was panting heavily, like a cornered beast, glaring fiercely at Fury: "Now, take your 'babysitter team' and get out there to do your deployments! I have to work! Before you turn this place into a SHIELD branch, I need to make sure this damn 'core' doesn't explode prematurely because of your bad luck!"

He abruptly turned around, his back to everyone, his shoulders trembling slightly from suppressed anger. His fingers flew across the control panel, the data stream on the screen scrolling wildly, as if only by immersing himself in intense technical work could he temporarily numb the pain of being forcibly invaded and the deep sense of crisis.

Fury gave Tony's violently heaving back a deep look, and said nothing more.

He nodded slightly to the four members of the inspection team, turned around first, the hem of his black trench coat drawing a cold, hard arc, and walked towards the exit.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint followed in turn, each with an extremely solemn expression.

Rumlow walked at the back, and just as he was about to step out of the heavy airtight door of the containment area, he turned back seemingly casually, his gaze once again landing precisely on a spot located below the array of force field generators in the "core".

It was an inconspicuous secondary control panel interface located at the very bottom of the massive toroidal force field generator array, cleverly concealed by several thick liquid helium cooling pipes and spare energy transmission cables.

The color of this interface is darker than other standard interfaces, and its shape is also slightly strange. Next to it is a tiny indicator light, which, under the dim light of the core, flashes an extremely faint, almost negligible dark red dot.

It is not the entry point of the main control system, but a low-level super control port at the physical level, a "last resort" designed for extreme emergencies (such as complete failure of the main control), bypassing all software protocols and acting directly on the force field generator hardware itself.

Its very existence is a top secret.

Rumlow's gaze lingered on that interface for less than half a second.

His face, as resolute as a rock, showed no change in expression, not even a slight shift in the focus of his eyes.

However, in the deepest recesses of those unfathomable eyes, a fleeting, extremely faint glint of light, like that of a venomous snake locking onto its prey's vital spot, a mixture of satisfaction and cold calculation, vanished in an instant.

Hydra's instructions were clear and greedy: the primary objective was to obtain a live sample of the "core," which would be the key to unlocking a new era.

But what if this path is completely blocked by Stark's impenetrable defenses and that ubiquitous artificial intelligence...?

Therefore, controlling this Damocles' sword hanging over humanity's heads, which could fall at any moment, is not unacceptable.

An ultimate deterrent in our hands, capable of dragging all of humanity down with us... this would be the most powerful bargaining chip to force the world to kneel.

After all, who wouldn't be afraid of a madman holding a button that could destroy everything?
Chang Wei watched a good show.

It can only be said that Tony was too naive, attempting to seal away the secrets concerning the survival of the race with the power of one person, one fortress, and one AI.

Even for a giant like America Capital, the power of an individual is ultimately as insignificant as dust in the face of the collective unconscious greed and fear of humanity.

No matter how strong a fortress is, it cannot stop the decay that grows from within and the gazes that peer into the abyss from all directions.

However, Nick Fury is truly capable; he managed to persuade those major powers to entrust the safety of all humanity to a few individuals, none of whom held any nationality other than America. Natasha, the Russian woman, had already become an American citizen long ago.

Of course, "in this world dominated by America's values ​​and heroic narratives, this does seem 'natural.' The world needs a savior, and the savior's passport color has already been predetermined. Faced with Fury's apocalyptic vision and the Avengers' past 'report card,' the leaders of those major powers chose to relinquish some sovereignty in exchange for a seemingly efficient 'fire brigade.' Efficiency and loss of control are often separated by only a fine line." He discerned the fragility of this arrangement—it concentrates enormous power in the hands of a few individuals, who are deeply embedded in the system of a particular nation, which in itself is a huge source of risk and a potential flashpoint for conflict.

More importantly, none of them knew that Chang Wei had not actually completely "frozen" Connors.

Location: Edge of the Mariana Trench, Depth: 10900 meters.

Time: Unknown (Eternal Darkness)
Absolute silence.

The weight of the seawater, heavy enough to crush steel, enveloped everything.

There is no light here, only eternal cold and darkness. Time seems to stand still, with only the occasional muffled groans from the depths of the earth's crust proving that this planet is still breathing slowly.

Deep within this forbidden zone of life, an object enveloped in thick sea mud and dark green tissue that had solidified upon cooling trembled very faintly.

In the beginning, there was chaos. More ethereal than the deepest dream, purer than the darkest darkness.

There is no concept of "I", only a cold, heavy void.

"I am……"

The fragmented neural signals flickered weakly in the remaining brain tissue, like a candle burning in the wind.

Fragments of memory, like the wreckage of a sunken ship, float and collide in the abyss of consciousness: blinding laboratory lights... twisted lizard limbs... a violent urge to destroy... a cold blue beam of light... and then... nothingness.

“Connors… Kurt Connors…”

This name, like an icebreaker, painstakingly broke through the ice of consciousness.

I am Kurt Connors.

The scientist who pursued perfect regeneration but turned himself into a monster.

That threat that was... ended.

As consciousness gradually focused, it brought clearer perception, but also unprecedented terror.

He couldn't feel his limbs, his torso, or his heartbeat!
He only had... a head left? No, not even a complete head.

The intense pain (signals remaining in the nerve endings) and the cold, heavy pressure made him realize his miserable state: he only had half of his severely damaged head left, with nothing below the neck. The fracture was brutally "melted" and sealed by some kind of low-temperature energy, preventing a complete collapse, but also completely cutting off the possibility of recovery through his own powerful regenerative abilities.

(End of this chapter)