HISD Chapter 74: Out of Control
"I thought it was Mr. Hogan, but it turns out to be Mr. Parker. Good evening."
The little girl carried herself with a natural nobility that came from her family background. She stepped out of the living room and politely greeted Spider-Man at the door before curiously glancing at the four strangely dressed figures standing behind him.
"Morgan…"
Peter Parker froze, his eyes widening in surprise. He turned to Aunt May and asked in shock, "May, why is she here?"
"Happy brought her over to play. She also wanted to use the Maker Machine to create a toy." May smiled softly, lowering her voice. "Don't underestimate her just because she's only six years old. She's already been accepted into MIT. If you get in, she'll be your senior."
"Where's Happy?" Peter's youthful face suddenly hardened.
May noticed his change in tone and replied, "He went out to buy the cake Morgan likes. He should be back soon."
Peter's gaze shifted back to Morgan. His heart skipped a beat. Even if he were completely reckless, he still understood how important this girl was.
He could never allow her to fall into danger. Otherwise, how would he ever face Mr. Stark's memory again?
Even though things were still under his control, seeing Morgan here filled him with unease.
"Aunt May, please take Morgan and leave this place right now. Go somewhere safe."
"Alright."
May glanced at the four men lingering at the doorway. Realizing the situation, she quickly turned back to Morgan and gently coaxed, "Morgan, how about I take you to Central Park, and then Uncle Happy will drive you home?"
"No problem."
The little girl nodded obediently, her manner calm and mature for her age. Then she ran inside to grab her toy.
May started putting on her outdoor shoes.
Peter let out a breath of relief, only to hear a chilling voice behind him. "Peter, I can see how much you care about that girl."
Peter's heart tensed. Forcing himself to stay calm, he answered, "She's a relative's child."
"Oh, really?" Norman Osborn, his face pale and frail, gave a knowing look.
"She looks a lot like my daughter," Sandman said with a rare smile.
"I think I've seen her before…" Electro frowned, blue sparks flickering in his eyes.
Doctor Octopus remained silent.
Half a minute later.
Morgan walked out again, this time with a two-meter-tall toy following behind her—a chubby humanoid figure that walked on its own.
Everyone in the room was stunned.
"Morgan, you made that toy?" Even Aunt May was shocked. She never imagined Morgan could design something like that in just half an hour.
Peter's eyes widened in disbelief.
It was a giant, round, white inflatable robot. With its smooth lines and simple expression, it looked like a cross between the Michelin Man and an oversized marshmallow—harmless, cute, and oddly comforting.
"Yes. I call him Baymax."
The little girl's innocent smile shone brightly.
This was something Teacher once mentioned in class as a curious invention. She had simply recreated it using the Maker Machine.
However, this Baymax wasn't paired with Stark Industries' advanced AI. It only followed a preprogrammed set of responses.
"If Teacher ever comes back, he could control it…" Morgan thought to herself, her eyes shining like stars as her small hands clasped Baymax's inflated fingers.
"Amazing," Peter admitted in awe. He knew that even with the Maker Machine, creating something like this still required technical analysis, design, and engineering knowledge.
You couldn't make something this advanced without a deep understanding of science and engineering.
The four villains outside the door—all men of science in their own worlds—were equally stunned.
"This girl… she's a super-genius," Doctor Octopus muttered. The others nodded.
Electro's attention, however, shifted toward the room inside. He could sense the advanced machine sitting there, something he longed for.
"Alright, Morgan. Let's go," May urged, holding the girl's hand.
Under Peter's watchful gaze, the four villains reluctantly moved aside.
As May and Morgan walked out the door, Baymax's eyes suddenly glowed green. It scanned the four villains one by one.
"Dissociative personality disorder?"
"Body molecular destabilization?"
"Neurological impairment?"
"Electrochemical instability?"
"Diagnosis complete. Further treatment requires Stark Industries advanced medical technology."
Then Baymax fell silent again and simply followed Morgan out.
"This is… a medical robot. Its level of advancement is extraordinary," Doctor Octopus muttered, awe in his voice.
Electro suddenly narrowed his eyes. "I remember her now. I saw her in a magazine. She's Morgan Stark—the sole heir to the Stark fortune, worth hundreds of billions!"
"What?!" Sandman's eyes blazed with greed. If he had that money, he could save his daughter. That medical robot could heal her too.
At that moment, all four villains turned their hungry eyes toward Morgan.
Peter's stomach dropped. A heavy dread overcame him. He could feel control slipping away.
He rushed forward and shouted, "Everyone, come inside! Let me help treat you, and then you can return to your worlds safely!"
But this time, the four men who had gone along with him until now ignored his plea.
Peter's face went pale. Things were spiraling completely out of control.
"Peter, you're far too naive."
Norman Osborn, who had played the frail, gentle act until now, suddenly grinned wickedly. "You think you fight for some noble mission, but we don't need your salvation. We don't need your pity!"
He swept his gaze across the others. "Our powers aren't curses. They're miracles! In this world, we can take whatever we want—and then either stay here or return. But we don't need you."
With that, he lunged at Peter, slamming him to the ground.
The others moved instantly. Electro dashed into the apartment toward the Maker Machine. Sandman hesitated, then dissolved into sand and surged after May and Morgan.
"Damn it, Peter Parker! You've lost control!" Doctor Octopus cursed, his human self and his mechanical arms wrestling in confusion.
Down on the street below—
Bang!
The locked doors of a truck burst open. A hulking green lizard leapt out, scrambling up the building walls with terrifying speed.
Chaos exploded.
Five supervillains. Four had turned on him at once. The building was descending into a nightmare.
…
On the 16th floor hallway—
May clutched Morgan tightly, running toward the elevator as the sounds of chaos erupted above. She slammed the button and rushed inside as soon as the doors opened.
The elevator doors slid shut just as Sandman's bulk surged toward them.
"It's okay, Morgan. I'll get you out of here safely," May reassured, holding the girl close.
Morgan wasn't afraid. She simply looked at Baymax standing silently beside her.
The elevator began its descent.
But then—
The elevator shuddered violently, grinding to a halt.
Clang, clang!
The doors began to force open. Two sandy hands pressed against the metal, prying them apart.
"Give her to me."
Sand formed into the rough face of a man, leering inside.
"Never!" May shoved Morgan behind her and punched the sandy face, scattering it.
But the sand kept pouring in, forming a massive hand that bypassed May and reached for the little girl.
May desperately struck at the arm, but couldn't stop it.
Morgan pressed against the wall, her eyes squeezed shut as the sandy hand came closer. She cried out instinctively, "One!"
In the next instant—
A blur of white moved. Both May and Sandman froze.
Baymax had stepped forward, wrapping his inflated body around the little girl, shielding her with its resilient form. The sand hand pressed uselessly against its spongy surface.
"Ba…"
Morgan's eyes filled with tears as she finished the word she hadn't managed to say before. She nuzzled her cheek against Baymax's soft body.
May exhaled in relief, thankful for Baymax's intervention.
But she didn't know—the robot didn't actually have a programmed protective protocol. It shouldn't have been able to move on its own.
"He's back," Morgan whispered softly, her small voice trembling with certainty.
"Who?" May frowned in confusion.
Sandman, however, shuddered violently. A chill ran down his spine. Instantly, he retreated, pulling all his sand out of the elevator, letting the doors close.
In the pitch-black shaft, Sandman reformed halfway up the wall, staring at the remains of his sand. To his horror, it had crystallized into solid glass.
Then he looked up—
A tall, white figure phased through the building wall, staring down at him. Its electronic eyes glowed with a cold red light. A cracked chip pulsed yellow at its forehead. It radiated no emotion, no humanity.
It gazed down upon him like a god of machines.
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