"Hank, you have a guest."
"Ah! Director, you've arrived? I should have prepared some tea at least!"
His entire body was covered in thick, navy-blue fur... A massive man reminiscent of a Phantasmal Beast, yet he wore a researcher’s coat and spectacles. Despite his intimidating, savage appearance, Henry Philip "Hank" McCoy welcomed them with a surprisingly gentle demeanor, placing a glass beaker of water over a burner.
"I’m afraid I don't have proper teacups, so if a regular cup is alright..."
"It doesn't matter. You two... do you want some?"
"Well... if you're offering, I won't refuse."
"I'll take some. My thanks."
"Two cups then. I’ll pass—I prefer milk tea over regular tea anyway."
"Understood, Director."
Hank prepared the tea in his own eccentric fashion, and Charles and Erik accepted their cups.
"Charles, Erik... this is Hank. He’s the head of the Science and Technology Development Division under our Bureau. Hank! These two are Charles and Erik—fresh recruits, brand new to the department."
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Ah! The pleasure is ours."
"Indeed."
After the three exchanged greetings and handshakes, Zod returned to the matter at hand.
"Hank, you said Cerebro was completed? I’ve come down today for a performance test."
"Ah! Yes, I’ve prepared the prototype for its maiden trial. It’s an invention that a normal human brain wouldn't survive; only a telepath or a mental-type Esper could possibly endure the load. I was wondering what to do, but does this mean one of these gentlemen possesses telepathy?"
"Charles is the telepath."
At Zod’s confirmation, Hank’s face lit up as he launched into an exhaustive technical explanation of his masterpiece, Cerebro. Charles began to break into a cold sweat while Erik sighed, rubbing his temple with his forefinger. Zod checked his wristwatch and let out a sharp cough.
"Ahem! Hank?"
"Oh! Right... My apologies, Director. I got a bit carried away..."
Hank apologized and immediately guided them to the facility housing Cerebro. They were struck with awe at the sight of the early model—a high-spec detection machine that functioned by networking thirty supercomputers simultaneously.
"Incredible..."
Charles nodded in agreement with Erik's assessment. Hank handed over a helmet bristling with wired connections.
"It would be easier to wear if you shaved your head, you know?"
"My hair is absolutely off-limits, Mr. Hank."
After their light banter, Charles donned the helmet. Hank activated Cerebro, and as Charles focused his ability, the positions of every Esper across the entire planet—specifically focusing on the United States—began to flicker into view. Their locations were printed out and displayed on the monitors in real-time.
"Hank... you’re a genius."
Charles marveled at the device, thinking that with this, they could gather all the superhumans together to stand against discrimination. Zod, however, wore a thin, predatory smile, envisioning a private army composed entirely of these 'Espers.'
.
.
.
A few years later...
The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, an affiliate of the Superhuman Management Bureau. It was a residence and educational facility for Espers to learn control over their abilities, serving as a sanctuary for those who had been abused or cast out by society. The massive Western-style mansion and its surrounding grounds were sprawling enough to rival any university campus.
With thousands of Espers in residence, the government was becoming increasingly eager to draft them into military service.
"So, are you saying we should send our students to Afghanistan and Iraq as special task forces, Director?"
"I’ve recently been appointed Secretary of the Superhuman Department, so address me as Secretary. I'm planning to hand over the Director position to my right-hand man soon."
"That’s not the point! Using students as soldiers—have you lost your mind?"
"Haven't we done our best so far? This country hasn't suppressed us superhumans with force; they've treated us with leniency. Don't we owe them something in return? We have to catch them... the terrorists who attacked our homeland..."
Charles, who had now become a professor at the Gifted School, groaned in agony. He too felt rage toward the terrorists who had struck his nation, but he couldn't justify the use of students.
"At the very least, could we not limit it to the teachers? Or perhaps the university-level students who have graduated from the senior classes..."
"Haa... Charles... You're still so naive..."
Zod, utilizing the magical energy of the Greater Grail he had absorbed, initiated a mental interference to brainwash the powerful telepath.
"You must obey my words absolutely, mustn't you?"
"Ah... yes..."
For a moment, Charles looked at Zod with eyes as dull and lifeless as a marionette with its strings cut. Then, as if snapping back to his senses, he knitted his brows.
"...How far had our discussion progressed?"
"I said to extract soldiers from both teachers and students with combat capability, regardless of age... This is a Presidential order."
"I understand, Director... No, Secretary."
"Good."
Zod nodded. As Charles left the office, Zod watched his retreating back with a mocking sneer.
.
.
.
"For the Secretary to request a private audience, how unusual."
"This is the report for the formation of a special task force aimed at eliminating Bin Denra in the Iraq War."
The President looked at Zod—now a Secretary—and felt a strange sensation. Zod was the sole success of the government's top-secret project to cultivate artificial superhumans. Now, that same 'masterpiece' was his subordinate, working for the United States. Despite the fact that he had once destroyed the research facility and escaped, he had returned to the government's fold... It could have been viewed as suspicious, but the President dismissed such doubts. After all, he was merely an artificial human born in a lab. He could be terminated if necessary. Thus, the President didn't pay it much mind.
"Project Name: The League... is this the name of the dedicated team?"
"Yes, it's the name for the Superhuman Special Ops Unit... 'The League.' Isn't it concise?"
"I suppose... Very well. Does the Secretary plan to respond in person? Regarding the deployment to Iraq and Afghanistan?"
"Is there anything I wouldn't do to protect my country?"
The President snorted at Zod’s words. In Zod's eyes, there was no trace of patriotism.
Desire... nothing but pure, unadulterated desire. He was clearly hungering for something.
However, the President was quick-witted enough not to voice these thoughts aloud.
"Then I’ll leave it to you, Secretary. The reason I pushed through your appointment despite your young age and... humble origins... I trust you understand why."
"Of course. I am always grateful to your Excellency."
"I have no need for flattery. You may leave; I am busy. Take whatever support you need... Just ensure that anything substantial receives my personal authorization."
"I understand, Excellency... Then, I shall take my leave."
"Hmm..."
The President gave a dismissive nod. Outside the Oval Office, Zod was greeted by his direct secretary and Chief of Staff, Mata Hari.
"Secretary... shall we head straight to the department office? Or would you prefer to stop by the Management Bureau?"
Since they were in a public setting and still on duty, Mata Hari addressed him as Secretary rather than Master. She exited the White House and boarded the car, where Emiya Alter was waiting for them.
"You're here, Master?"
"Call me 'Secretary' when we're outside."
"To be honest, it doesn't quite roll off the tongue, Mr. Secretary."
"Tsk... What about Artoria and Jeanne? They've both become Undersecretaries, so I assume they're not just idling about?"
Mata Hari chuckled at Zod's query.
"Don't you worry, Secretary. Since both have experience leading nations or armies, they’re performing their duties as Undersecretaries quite well."
"I would have expected them both to be lazy."
In response to Zod's surprised reaction, Emiya Alter scratched his head and remarked.
"Just what kind of image do you have of those two in your head?"
"Problem children, yet the strongest?"
"I... can't really argue with that."
Emiya let out a sigh and started the car. Zod finally spoke.
"To the Gifted School first. I need to check the condition of the military supplies—the students—who will be deployed soon."
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