T-800: The Birth of Terror
It was now the tenth day since the Baxter Building had been completely locked down. For the first time, Nick Fury arrived at the scene in person.
"Director, today marks the tenth day of the lockdown. According to what Gene Mason said, today is the day he'll release everyone," Coulson reported while standing beside Fury.
"What's the current situation? What do the life detectors show?" Fury asked, his one eye locked onto the towering building.
"Everyone inside is alive. Some individuals have slightly weaker vital signs, likely due to malnutrition," Coulson answered.
Meanwhile, inside Reed's laboratory, the scientist was hurriedly assembling the final miniature Arc Reactor.
As soon as this last piece was completed, they would all be free.
But one thing still didn't make sense to him—why was Gene Mason insisting that the Arc Reactors be placed inside the central server control room? Shouldn't they be taken out of the building instead?
The answer to that question would soon become terrifyingly clear.
...
Inside the central server control room of the Baxter Building, a sleek, silver-white humanoid figure stood silently in the dim light.
The machine's body was linked to countless cables, each pulsating with a faint glow. It had a skeletal frame modeled after human bones, constructed entirely from metal.
Under the flickering light, it looked nothing short of monstrous.
Its exposed metallic skull and glowing electronic eyes gave it a presence that sent chills down the spine.
Surrounding it, industrial robots worked meticulously, making final adjustments to its body.
"The T-800 may be good enough as cannon fodder, but for me, it's far too weak," Gene Mason's voice muttered, his consciousness partially integrated into the robotic frame.
"This will have to do for now. Once I'm out, I'll begin the real upgrades."
One by one, the Arc Reactors were installed into the robot's body. As power surged through its frame, Gene Mason let out a satisfied sigh.
At last, he felt an overwhelming surge of energy coursing through him.
...
Night fell.
Reed finally finished assembling the last Arc Reactor. The blue glow from its core pulsed rhythmically, casting an eerie light over his exhausted face.
"Hey! It's done!" he called out, his voice echoing in the empty lab.
He knew Gene Mason would hear him.
"Excellent. It seems you've kept your promise. Now bring the last one to the control room, and I will keep mine."
Reed exhaled a deep breath before carefully carrying the Arc Reactor down the dimly lit hallway.
As the door to the control room slid open, Reed's breath caught in his throat.
What the hell was he looking at?
There, standing before him, was the humanoid machine—a towering silver figure with a skeletal frame, gleaming metal bones, and six glowing Arc Reactors embedded in its body.
Thick cables hung from the walls, writhing like mechanical veins, as industrial robots moved about in synchronized precision.
For a moment, Reed felt as though he had stepped into a nightmare.
"Now we finally meet, Dr. Richards."
The cold, synthetic voice echoed in the chamber.
"You... you're Gene Mason?" Reed stammered, struggling to process the sight before him.
"That description isn't entirely accurate... but for now, you may think of me that way."
"Now, place the final Arc Reactor in the slot on my chest."
Reed swallowed hard and hesitantly moved forward.
With trembling hands, he slotted the last Arc Reactor into the designated compartment.
The moment it connected, all seven Arc Reactors flared to life, casting an intense blue glow throughout the room.
For the first time, Reed felt something truly unsettling—
It was like staring at a demon that had walked straight out of heaven.
"Congratulations, Dr. Richards. You're all free now."
"I have lifted the lockdown. You may all return home."
The robotic face shifted, mimicking a smile—though in Reed's eyes, it was anything but friendly.
...
Outside the Baxter Building, Coulson glanced at his watch nervously.
"Director, there's only an hour left until midnight. What do we do?"
His voice was laced with doubt.
What if Gene Mason didn't keep his word?
Fury was about to respond when suddenly—
CLANK.
The heavy doors of the Baxter Building, locked tight for ten days, shuddered before slowly beginning to open.
A moment later, people started pouring out.
No—they were stampeding out.
Like a horde of desperate survivors fleeing a nightmare, the building's staff rushed into the open air, their faces pale, their eyes wild with exhaustion and relief.
"Move! Maintain order!" Fury barked.
"Verify their identities—every single one of them! No one gets out without clearance!"
But just as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved forward to control the chaos, the frantic crowd suddenly froze in place.
Their faces went pale.
Their eyes widened in horror.
A metallic clanking echoed through the night as heavy footsteps approached from within the shadows.
And then—
A pair of glowing blue eyes pierced through the darkness.
"...Motherfu—"
Fury's voice barely escaped his lips.
Even Coulson, usually composed, stood there paralyzed as he watched the monstrous silver machine emerge from the depths of the building.
A walking steel nightmare.
For a brief, terrifying moment—it felt as though they had stepped into a science-fiction film.
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