Plans within Plans

BOOM!

Within the towering confines of a fortified office building, a man in a green suit deftly evaded the ferocious onslaught of Battle Beast's relentless attacks.

Despite Battle Beast's unmatched speed and power, every time his razor-sharp claws came within inches of the man's throat, the green-suited figure would vanish, reappearing elsewhere in the room with an infuriatingly smug grin plastered on his face, fueling the lion-like alien's growing fury.

For nearly thirty exhausting minutes, the man dodged effortlessly, hands still casually tucked into his suit pockets, as Battle Beast's strikes grew more feral and desperate. Finally, the relentless assault ceased, and the alien warrior stood panting, his features contorted into a rare mask of frustration.

The man in the green suit straightened, his smirk dissolving into a calm, unreadable expression as he met Battle Beast's gaze. "Are you finished?"

GRRRR!

A low, guttural growl escaped from Battle Beast, but he soon folded his massive arms and gave a curt nod, his rage subsiding.

"Why did you interrupt my fight? I was enjoying myself!" he demanded, his voice laced with irritation.

The man casually pulled his hands from his pockets, offering a nonchalant shrug before responding.

"From where I stood, it didn't look like fun at all! It looked more like you were drowning in sheer numbers!"

TSK!

Battle Beast clicked his tongue in irritation, brushing past the green-suited man trailing close behind as they made their way toward a specific office. 

As they approached the doors, the synthetic voice of their boss echoed through the hallway, dripping with smugness as he berated someone over the phone. 

"Oh, and what exactly do you plan to do about it, you overgrown, fire-breathing lizard? This time, I hold all the cards, and we will proceed on my terms. Do you comprehend?"

CRACK!

Before the person on the other end of the line could respond, Machine Head crushed the phone with the immense strength of his mechanically and biologically enhanced hands.

On the desk, a display showcased the image of a bizarre tentacled creature they had "liberated" from the GDA. This formidable beast, while not as mighty in open combat as Battle Beast or as strategically valuable as the man in the green suit known as Isotope, still possessed the potential to unleash massive destruction if harnessed effectively.

"With some modifications, this creature, this Hail Mary, could be..." Machine Head's synthetic voice paused, lingering in a simulation of reverence. "Beautiful."

If he had lips, both Battle Beast and Isotope were certain he'd be licking them.

On the display before them, the tentacled monstrosity writhed beneath the harsh light of a mechanized operating theater, undergoing biomechanical integration in real time.

Phase One: Control. A restraint harness, cybernetic and jagged, locked into the base of its skull with a wet snap. This neural shackle would override instinct with command; Machine Head would not tolerate a servant that might one day become a rival. After all, what was the point of ruling a dead world?

Phase Two: Cognition. Dozens of ocular nodes blinked erratically as an AI-guided targeting suite fused into its vision centers. Combat data streamed through subdermal processors, giving the creature dynamic threat prioritization and adaptive response calculations.

Neural feedback dampeners followed, thin coils slithered into its spine, severing the creature's connection to pain. It wouldn't hesitate. It wouldn't retreat. It wouldn't feel.

Phase Three: Body. Its bones, once organic, if unnaturally dense, were replaced with programmable Bio-Steel, a proprietary alloy developed by Machine Head's private labs. This material could absorb, redistribute, and remember structure, reshaping itself in moments and blending seamlessly with foreign tech. Reinforcement nodes along the joints allowed kinetic energy to spread across the frame, making single-point trauma almost useless.

Next, the muscle tissue. Already monstrous in raw output, it was laced with carbon-titanium myofibers, fine as spider silk but capable of contracting with industrial precision. Bursts of biomechanical hydraulics were embedded into major muscle groups, allowing for controlled surges of power far beyond Viltrumite thresholds.

Finally, its organs. The heart, if it could still be called that, was gutted and replaced with a miniature fusion reactor, capable of sustaining the creature's biological processes and unleashing a directed energy blast through the thoracic cavity. Its lungs were lined with carbon macrofibres, increasing capacity tenfold and rendering it virtually immune to airborne agents or stamina depletion. Even its redundant systems were armored.

The abomination exhaled once. The lab lights flickered.

Machine Head leaned forward, metal fingers steepled in thought.

"Nearly done..." he murmured.

Beside him, Battle Beast's golden eyes narrowed, whether in awe or contempt, even he wasn't sure.

When the improvements had been fully integrated, Machine Head ordered the creature to be placed inside a virtual coliseum where it would undergo testing against various heroes and heroines.

VIRTUAL COMBAT SIMULATION ENGAGED.Target: Duplicate – Level 5 Threat.

Within seconds, ten projections of the flaxen-haired heroine shimmered into existence, each moving independently, each smiling in that same cocky, overconfident grin.

"Let's see how it handles multiplicity," Machine Head murmured.

The beast didn't hesitate.

Like a guillotine in motion, its tendrils shot outward, not wild flailing, but precise whips of sharpened bio-steel. One Duplicate exploded in a cloud of code. Then another. Then three more.

The chamber filled with the blur of attacks and evasions, until one of the projections managed to land a hit, blasting a beam of concussive light straight into the creature's thorax.

Machine Head leaned forward. "Pain response?"

"Flatline," said Isotope, reviewing the data. "It didn't even register."

The monster turned, chest sizzling from the blast, then let out a shriek of sonic energy that shattered the remaining duplicates like glass under pressure.

Result: 11.3 seconds. Efficiency: 92%

Machine Head chuckled. "Next."

Target: Brit – Level 7 Threat.

A burly figure materialized, square-jawed, trench coat billowing, fists already clenched. The creature lunged, and Brit met it with a brutal haymaker that would have pulped a tank.

The blow landed. Flesh warped. Bones snapped.

But the creature didn't fall.

Instead, it wrapped around Brit mid-swing, constricting with a bone-popping crack before its chest armor split open, revealing a thrumming core of violet-orange plasma. It fired at point-blank range.

Simulated Brit disintegrated.

Result: 5.6 seconds. Efficiency: 98%

Machine Head's eyes gleamed behind his faceplate. "Ah... that'll make headlines."

Isotope muttered, "This thing's a slaughterhouse in a skin suit."

Target: Marie – Level 9 Threat.

The coliseum chamber dimmed, then lit up with a flicker of hard-light projection. A new figure materialized, tall, broad-shouldered, but undeniably feminine in frame. The yellow-and-blue suit clung to her athletic build, the iconic "I" symbol shining on her chest.

Her brown hair floated in the air from sheer kinetic charge. Her eyes scanned the chamber sharply, already reading the battlefield before she made a single move.

"Ah," Machine Head said with something almost like admiration. "Now we test it against a real apex predator."

Isotope frowned. "You're using her old combat profile?"

"Updated. Post-Battle Beast encounter. Factoring in bloodlust."

The moment the simulation began, Marie moved.

Not forward, up, through the air, and then sideways, leaving afterimages. Her foot collided with the monster's skull before it could even complete its targeting cycle.

The beast stumbled, not from damage, but from shock.

Marie landed, slid, and came up with a rising uppercut that launched the thing across the arena. It smashed through two metal columns and impacted the barrier wall hard enough to leave a crater.

Machine Head didn't flinch.

The creature stood up. Recalibrating.

Then it roared, a bladed, sweeping roar, and charged.

Tentacles lashed out in unpredictable arcs, aiming for joints, throat, and skull. Marie dodged one, parried the next with a forearm shattering clang, then caught a tendril mid-snap and yanked the beast off-balance.

She twisted, spun midair, and drove a knee into its gut hard enough to crack the pseudo-ribs beneath the armor.

But this time… it responded.

The creature's back split open, ejecting secondary limbs tipped with plasma injectors. Marie didn't get clear in time, one buried itself in her thigh, flashing red as it discharged a destabilizing concussive pulse.

She screamed, more rage than pain, and responded by slamming both fists together, generating a shockwave that blew the monster halfway through the floor.

Smoke and sparks filled the arena.

Time: 31.6 seconds. Efficiency: 68%.

Isotope whistled. "She almost killed it."

"She almost disabled it," Machine Head corrected coolly. "And that's perfect. A challenge worth evolving for."

He stood, circuits glowing subtly in his neck and temples. "Load all combat data into the auto-adaptive heuristic core. I want the next version to anticipate her every move."

"Already on it," Isotope said.

Target: Rex Splode – Level 6 Threat.

Energy crackled in both of his hands as Rex materialized, arms already loaded with glowing red charges.

"You're ugly, so let's end this fast."

He launched a barrage of explosive disks, some embedded into the floor, others aimed directly at the beast's limbs.

Boom. Boom. Boom. BOOM.

Smoke filled the arena.

The creature staggered forward, limping. Metal plating on its leg had shattered, systems flickering red.

Isotope leaned in. "He actually did some damage—"

Then the creature detonated its own outer skin.

The metal plating exploded outward in controlled shrapnel, each shard ricocheting with terrifying precision. Rex raised a shield of debris, but one sliver cut through his throat.

He dropped.

Result: 8.9 seconds. Efficiency: 93%.

"Effective," Machine Head said.

Target: Black Samson – Level 7 Threat.

The suit-wearing powerhouse stepped forward, cape flowing behind him.

"Let's see if you're worth all this fuss."

Samson held his ground. He knew how to bait brute force, force the monster to come to him.

The beast charged.

Samson sidestepped, shoulder-checking it into the wall with seismic force. He followed up with a heavy-handed slam into its sternum, triggering microfractures in its armor. He pressed the advantage, punching faster than his size suggested.

But the creature deployed its second-phase limbs again, faster this time, and latched onto Samson's arms mid-swing. Plasma injectors ignited.

Instead of killing him, it drained his suit's energy core.

Samson's power flickered out. He was still physically strong… but not strong enough.

One tendril went through his helmet.

Result: 14.6 seconds. Efficiency: 90%.

Machine Head tilted his head slightly. "That was personal."

A flash of pink light. She stood less than an inch tall, zipping between the creature's armor plating like a wasp.

Inside the joints, she planted miniaturized charges. Along the spine, she wired explosives.

It didn't know where she was.

Until it did.

The creature pulsed. A wideband EMP surged through its body.

The simulation glitched, Rae's equipment died instantly, her comms severed. Her form shimmered briefly before the creature rotated, tentacle snapping like a whip—

Splatter.

Result: 18.2 seconds. Efficiency: 86%.

"She had the right idea," Isotope muttered.

"She had a good idea," Machine Head corrected. "One."

Target: Atom Eve – Level 10 Threat.

Eve raised one hand. With a pop, the gravity beneath the creature inverted, slamming it into the ceiling. While it struggled to reorient, she materialized a field of floating pink spike constructs, dozens of them, orbiting her like a crown of blades.

She fired them like missiles.

The projectiles struck the beast's hide with terrifying precision, piercing joints and weak points. Its leg buckled. Its arm was severed. Before it could recover, Eve wrapped it in a spiraling cage of reconfiguring pink latticework, hardening around it like an ever-tightening vice.

"Locked," she whispered. "Try something new."

The creature obeyed.

With a sudden pulse of violet light, its chest armor retracted, exposing the spinning fusion core that throbbed where its heart should've been. Energy built violently, heat distorting the air.

Eve reacted instantly, throwing up a multi-layered pink prism shield, reinforced with dynamically regenerating angles.

The reactor fired.

A blinding beam of concentrated nuclear plasma tore across the chamber.

Her first shield cracked. The second held, then vaporized. The third wavered, folding into molten slag.

Eve gritted her teeth, focusing, reconstructing mid-burn, but it wasn't enough.

The beam struck her full-on.

For a microsecond, she began converting her own atoms to escape, teleport, phase, something, anything.

but the nuclear plasma slammed through her defenses, scattering her like fragile glass caught in a storm.

Silence.

The chamber's lights flickered erratically as the simulation paused abruptly.

Machine Head straightened, eyes narrowing behind his metallic faceplate.

"Interesting!"