Reed stared at Dr. Kang, a trace of disbelief flickering in his eyes. He couldn't bring himself to accept that this brilliant man had joined the Illuminati merely to seek asylum.
He knew better. Dr. Kang was far too intelligent for that—there had to be deeper motivations at play.
Reed and Kang—both geniuses, both strategic thinkers.
And men like them always had their own agendas.
That was true for every seat on the Illuminati council. Each of the six members harbored secret motives, constantly maneuvering behind the scenes, scheming, probing, never fully trusting one another.
Take Black Panther, for instance. It was obvious he didn't join the Illuminati out of idealism. He used the platform to gain recognition and leverage for Wakanda in global politics.
Atlantis, too, had its own ambitions. Their involvement was clearly transactional—using the Illuminati to stabilize trade routes and secure dominance over the oceanic territories.
As for Baron Zemo… he was an enigma.
Reed could never quite understand why S.H.I.E.L.D. had insisted on Zemo's appointment to the council.
Deep down, he suspected that Zemo might be an undercover agent working for Alex Ray, the self-proclaimed Lord of Hell ruling over Hell's Kitchen. After all, Zemo's mutant nation had no explicit ties to Alex's dominion.
And yet—despite extensive Hydra investigations—no link between Zemo and Hell's Kitchen had ever been found.
That made Reed even more suspicious.
Everything about Zemo was too clean, too well-managed. As though someone had deliberately scrubbed away any traceable connections.
Sure, Zemo's appearance wasn't out of place—but Cassandra's first emergence had happened in Hell's Kitchen. That couldn't be a coincidence.
Reed couldn't see through Hydra's deeper intentions, and as time passed, he began to lose faith in the Illuminati.
Despite its power, the organization's members seemed more focused on protecting their own nations' interests than in pursuing the Illuminati's overarching mission. It was a stark contrast to the Avengers, where everyone fought for Earth as a whole.
At every meeting, conversations revolved around individual agendas. Rarely did anyone speak about strengthening the Illuminati itself.
And Reed wasn't innocent either. He joined not out of conviction—but out of necessity. The Illuminati gave him a larger platform, access to resources, and a shred of influence.
In truth, he was fighting so hard because he had no better option.
The Illuminati was his kingdom. But he, its supposed king, was little more than a puppet.
So it was obvious: Kang was hiding something. His story about seeking protection from S.H.I.E.L.D. was nothing but a smokescreen.
Everyone knew how powerful Kang was. There wasn't a single person in the Illuminati who could defeat him.
Reed knew this firsthand—because Kang had done something Reed had only dared to dream of.
He humiliated Hell's Kitchen.
Kang had been hunted by some of the deadliest figures in Alex Ray's empire—and still escaped. Sure, "Hell's Kitchen" mostly referred to Kingpin's faction and remnants of the Continental Hotel, but even so, pulling off such an escape was a feat.
No one had expected the golden serum project to succeed. It was too experimental. There hadn't even been any animal testing.
But Kang had downed the serum without hesitation.
That kind of resolve and madness astounded Reed.
He had seen how earlier serum trials had ended—dozens of gruesome deaths. And yet Kang had emerged alive. More than alive—he'd become stronger than ever.
Reed coveted the serum himself. But he wasn't willing to risk his life on an unproven formula.
So all he could do was watch in envy as Kang rose in power.
And then the question came: why had Kang, with all his strength and intellect, chosen to join the Illuminati?
He could have lived in seclusion, built his own empire, even formed a private power bloc to rival Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D.
So what exactly did he want?
Across from him, Kang sat quietly, studying Reed's expression.
The scholarly, harmless façade had vanished.
Now, his gaze was sharp—calculating. The timid posture was gone, replaced by an air of absolute control.
The reflection of his eyes through his glasses made them look bottomless, unreadable.
Reed suddenly felt like this—this was Kang's true face.
A strategist. A manipulator. A man of many secrets.
Kang slowly removed his glasses and began polishing them with a cloth, his voice calm and precise.
"What are you so nervous about, Mr. Reed?"
There was a hint of teasing—an edge of knowing in his tone.
"Of course I have a purpose. Maybe the same one as you. Alex Ray."
The name landed like a thunderclap.
Kang placed his glasses gently on the table, his tone turning cold.
"You've encountered the multiverse, haven't you?"
The words hit Reed like a sledgehammer.
His eyes widened with surprise. He had believed he was the only one aware of that secret.
But he quickly recovered. After all, Reed had been through too much to let himself unravel now.
He forced a neutral expression and responded, playing dumb, "Multiverse? What are you talking about? That's just fantasy. No such thing exists."
A bait. A test.
"Don't play games, Mr. Reed," Kang replied smoothly. "The Reed Council is one of the most famous institutions in the multiverse."
That did it.
Reed's breath caught.
He knows.
He knows about the Council of Reeds, the dimension-spanning assembly of his variants—beings like him, but from countless alternate realities.
Reed had stumbled upon the Council long ago, and had kept that knowledge to himself.
But how the hell did Kang know?
Had he met another variant of himself?
Or—was this Kang himself a multiversal traveler?
Was that why he joined the Illuminati?
For the multiverse?
Reed's mind raced with possibilities. The room suddenly felt smaller, colder. He could feel the shift in power—the growing realization that this man across from him wasn't just here to help. He was here for something far more dangerous.
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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones
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