Mysterio operated the drone, cautiously firing the first laser beam. Of course, he had no other choice – it was either this or the space station would be destroyed, and everyone would die.
Although Mysterio had brazenly woven such a grand conspiracy involving the space station, he had never anticipated the current situation. When it ca to defusing bombs, he was a complete amateur. No novice could remain calm in such circumstances.
And to make matters worse, Parker kept causing trouble, one mont telling him to keep the laser straight, the next to swerve it. Mysterio dared not disobey, as controlling the drone was already exhausting enough, leaving no spare energy to scrutinize the bomb's condition.
Ti ticked away, second by second, and sweat poured down from under Mysterio's helt, dripping from his eyebrows to his eyelashes, trickling down his beard, and soaking the collar of his armor's lining.
02:15, the laser cut off a corner, making it possible to lift the floor, proving the plan could succeed.
01:59, the laser gently peeled open the floor on the right side.
01:01, the laser moved to the left side, with more than half already cut. Now only the final touches were left.
00:35, the floor was entirely cut open, the drone grasped the bomb's four corners, and the bomb slowly rose into the air.
00:20, with a bang, the space station's glass shattered, oxygen rapidly escaping. Yet, at the sa mont, the bomb also flew out the window.
00:15, just as Mysterio breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly felt sothing interfering with his control of the drone, the signal starting to break up. The drone, with the bomb still not far away, began to wobble and lose control.
"No! It can't go out of control now!" Mysterio roared in his mind, "If it explodes at this distance, the space station won't escape either!"
With a flourish of his cloak, Mysterio leaped out of the window. The drone, carrying him, headed towards the bomb. As they approached, the signal beca clearer, so he hastily directed the drone to fly even further away.
However, every ti the drone moved about ten ters away from him, the signal would beco extrely weak. Gritting his teeth and stamping his foot, Mysterio pushed the drone to its full power, speeding away with the bomb as fast as possible.
Of course, the spectators in the live broadcast room didn't know he was using a drone. They just saw Mysterio elevating the bomb with a mysterious energy, flying further and further away, leaving the space station far behind, squarely facing the dangerous bomb alone – an act that could be called the greatest feat of the century.
00:05, the bomb finally reached a safe distance. At that ti, Mysterio also identified the culprit for the signal interruption: it was a mysterious clump of grey fog.
But he had no ti to look closely; he turned and ran. However, five seconds was not enough ti to escape the explosion. The bomb detonated, and Mysterio was hurled backward.
In the last second before his vision darkened, he saw a massive escort ship slowly heading towards the space station.
"Balk... Balk..."
A voice kept calling to him.
Suddenly, a bright light appeared in his field of view, causing Beck's eyes to hurt. He blinked hard, trying to avoid the light, feeling dryness spread across his eyelids. Tears welled up, and after his eyelids were moistened, he finally managed to open his eyes.
A black-haired doctor wearing glasses stood in front of his bed, bent over examining his eyes. It was his flashlight that was flashing the annoying light.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Beck tried to shield his eyes with his hand, but realized he had no strength.
Fortunately, the doctor imdiately withdrew the flashlight, waved his hand in front of him, and said, "Justin Balk, do you rember your na?"
"Damn it, of course, where am I now?"
"You're in a hospital," the doctor sighed, "It's strange, everyone else is alright. How did you get injured so badly? Thankfully, your colleagues found you passed out in the storage room; otherwise, you'd be dead."
Beck finally rembered everything – the bomb had exploded, and he hadn't been able to avoid it. However, the drone he had set up had an automatic defense feature; once it detected its owner was unconscious, it would take him back to the original setting point. It was the drone that had dragged him back to the space station, saving his life.
Beck's head started to hurt, and he saw the doctor turn a knob, which lessened the pain. He said, "Thank you, doctor, what's your na?"
"You can call Shiller. I'm your primary care physician. Oh God, your injuries have alard the S.H.I.E.L.D Director himself. Agents have searched the space station high and low, but they can't determine who injured you so severely."
Balk imdiately shouted, "It was a monster, there were monsters, a fla monster that was chasing !"
"Indeed, we found so burns on you," Shiller sighed, "Do you feel any discomfort? Think carefully, are there any gaps in your mory?"
Balk stared blankly for a mont, his mind was a muddle and he couldn't rember anything, but he still said, "No, I'm fine."
"That's good; it will ensure you can provide all the information about the monster to S.H.I.E.L.D. They won't let your injuries be in vain."
Balk saw Shiller continue the examination. Only then did he belatedly feel the pain in his arms, chest, and legs. He inhaled sharply and asked, "Am I badly injured?"
"Very badly, so much so that S.H.I.E.L.D authorized a cure potion for you..."
"No, I don't want any potion!"
"It's already been administered. It's a modified version for ordinary people. It takes so ti to work and will leave you weak for a while, but don't worry too much. You'll be better in a week."
Balk seed sowhat relieved at that, he said, "What about my friends? Are they all right?"
"They're much better than you. They weren't injured," Shiller shook his head, "But so of them were ntally shaken and are undergoing psychological treatnt. You have about three sessions of counseling yourself..."
"I don't need any counseling."
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"Are you sure? I used to be Stark's psychologist, and my fee was 3 million US dollars per hour."
"But I feel like I've been a bit shocked too."
Shiller laughed, "You are now the focus of everyone's attention."
Balk imdiately tensed up, then he heard Shiller say, "Because you are the one who was injured the most seriously. If you don't survive, we'll have our first casualty in this major accident."
"Does that an the others are still alive?"
"Yes, thanks to the scientists who calculated the safe trajectory for the escort ship to approach Earth at top speed and successfully evacuated everyone from the space station. Now, the towing spacecraft are dismantling the space station."
"What about the other half?"
"It has safely landed in the sea. Now it's up to China-Arica-Australia to handle the salvage and rescue, and all personnel have been confird safe. However, many are requesting to retrieve data, so the evacuation is proceeding in order."
Balk let out a sigh of relief—regardless of everything, the situation had turned out fairly well.
Afterward, he got his phone and saw news that filled him with surprise. Turns out, that damned evil robot had live-stread the entire incident to show off its power to the human race. Of course, the most comndable aspect was Mysterio's incredible strength and selfless dedication.
He was now the hottest superhero on Earth.
One could even say he was more popular than seasoned heroes like Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Captain Arica, since it had been way too long since their last appearance. Mysterio, however, was in high demand.
Balk was eager to share the good news with his team, but Shiller said apologetically, "Sorry, apart from , you cannot contact anyone else. Even with , it's a humanitarian asure approved by Nick Fury..."
"Why?!" Balk asked, puzzled.
"Because S.H.I.E.L.D is a special agent organization, and you're the only one in this accident who witnessed the so-called monster with your own eyes. You know, until they completely understand what this is all about, they wouldn't want this information to get out."
"They want to detain ?!"
"Although I'd like to say this isn't detention, just healing or sothing along those lines, as your psychologist, I must tell you the truth. Yes, you're under house arrest. You can't go anywhere but the hospital until they've gotten enough useful information from you."
Balk wanted to punch the bed with force, but he couldn't muster the strength. Had he known this would happen, he would never have separated Mysterio from his true identity—then the public would never have allowed these damned agents to treat their hero like this!
"Unfortunately, S.H.I.E.L.D is more interested in that powerful mysterious person than you right now. They are spending a lot of effort investigating the so-called Mysterio, and you've almost been forgotten. So you might have to stay here for a very long ti."
Balk felt even more suffocated. After a long mont, he asked, "Is there soone guarding ?"
Shiller didn't answer, just stood up, walked to the door and opened it to show him the line of agents in the corridor, unsurprisingly.
Balk sighed in annoyance and then looked at Shiller, who spread his hands and said, "Yes, I'm stuck here with you because if you do tell so truth, I'm also a subject to be kept confidential and just as unable to leave."
"Alright, give your phone. They want to announce on the internet that you're not dead. They need your account."
"How can they..."
"Obviously, they can do anything." Shiller seed quite accustod to this, taking the mobile phone from Balk's hand and saying, "You might as well get used to it, this is what being an agent is like."
Balk felt powerless; he could barely lift one arm, and as he watched Shiller's profile, he suddenly rembered, "Aren't you that doctor?"
The doctor who had looked at him with such disdain from the stands.
"That's right, it was . But is that strange? S.H.I.E.L.D has only one professional psychologist, of course, I have to do whatever job is required."
"But you saw that monster too..."
"I'm an insider; my testimony is invalid. The old n in Congress wouldn't believe a psychologist employed by S.H.I.E.L.D, only you can convince them the monster really exists."
Balk saw Shiller make a slightly scornful twist of his mouth and said, "Seriously, your performance that day was pretty pathetic, you know you looked like you were about to piss yourself, right?"
Balk's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Shiller. Shiller turned to look at him and said, "Yes, they sent to eliminate the overdramatic parts from your testimony. Please, if you worked a week, no, probably just three days at S.H.I.E.L.D, you'd see monsters far more terrifying than that."
"Of course, you're a civilian; we can't be too hard on you. But it wouldn't be good if, because of your overreaction, you exaggerate the monster into so apocalyptic catastrophe causing panic. I'll keep an eye on your testimony."
Balk clenched his teeth and roared at Shiller, "You just want to cover up the truth! You damned agents."
"Don't worry, you'll soon see what really damned agents are like." Shiller smiled and opened the door.
The expressionless Natasha walked in.
"Justin Balk or should I call you Quentin Beck, I'm Natasha Romanoff, a Level 8 Agent with S.H.I.E.L.D, and I'm here under the orders of the S.H.I.E.L.D Director to interrogate you."
"But before that, we need to talk about how you hid your identity to infiltrate the space station and beca the head of software security."
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