----
Just when the Hydra squads thought the worst had passed—
"Look out!" someone screamed.
Too late.
From the shadows, tiny machines scurried into the open rat-sized drones with pumpkin-shaped payloads strapped to their backs.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions ripped through Oscorp's front entry like a hellish symphony. Limbs flew. Blood splattered. The air filled with shrapnel and screams.
The open courtyard became a butcher's slab.
Lightning flashed overhead. Fire lit the sky like a war zone.
"Dammit!" Bucky snarled, barely diving out of range. His exoskeletal frame took the brunt, but the heat still scorched.
Over the chaos, a voice crackled from Oscorp's PA system chilling, amused, godlike.
Nolan.
"Yare~ Yare~ You really had the nerve to show up on my turf?"
He laughed, cold and cruel. "Perfect. I've been meaning to stretch my muscles."
His voice echoed unnaturally, bouncing off every wall and floor like a disembodied puppeteer playing with prey.
Then blackout.
Every light in Oscorp snapped off.
Zzzzt—
A pulse burst across the compound. Every piece of tech, every comm, visor, and scope died.
Whsssshk!
The sound of a blade across flesh. Then, a body crumpled into puddled rainwater.
Blood met stormwater. The scent was metallic and warm.
"He's in the building! He's moving fast—too fast!"
"Infrared's down!"
"Shit—he's—"
Thud!
More bodies fell.
The remaining Hydra soldiers huddled, adrenaline spiking. It was no longer a mission it was survival. Something was hunting them.
"Use flashbangs!" someone shouted.
White-hot light flooded the hallways.
They finally saw him.
Nolan.
No armor. No tactical gear.
Just a white lab coat, stained with rain and blood, a long vibranium blade in one hand and a shield in the other.
He stood still, calm.
And he smiled.
"Let's see what you're made of," he said.
Only the elite remained seven super-soldiers and a few dozen hardened Hydra operatives. All others had been culled.
…
From the shadows, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, and Natasha Romanoff watched the massacre.
The earlier explosion hadn't spared them but Steve's quick reflexes and shield had saved their lives.
"Nat—you okay?" Clint asked.
She turned slightly, back bleeding through her suit. "Fine. Nothing I can't handle."
She wasn't lying.
The wounds were already healing.
Faster than they should've.
She wasn't ready to tell them.
Nolan tilted his head, watching a flashbang fizzle nearby.
He stepped forward.
The water beneath him rippled as he moved too fast to track, too fluid to stop.
Flashbangs only lit up the horror.
Every time the light faded, more bodies hit the floor.
Slice. Slam. Crack.
A blur of motion. A scream. A life ended.
Nolan was dancing in the rain a ballet of blood and thunder.
"He's not a scientist," Clint whispered. "He's a goddamn weapon."
Natasha had never seen him in action, not like this.
She knew his mind was dangerous.
She didn't know what his body was, too.
Fury's voice crackled in their comms. "Gather intel only. Do not engage."
Steve didn't answer.
He was watching Nolan tear through trained killers like they were made of paper.
If they ever fought—
How would he win?
…
Whup-whup-whup—
Suddenly, two helicopters roared into the sky overhead. Their spotlights cut through the darkness. Miniguns opened fire indiscriminately.
Steve's jaw clenched. "They're firing in the middle of the damn city are they insane?!"
…
Elsewhere, inside a sleek Hydra compound, Madame Viper watched the chaos unfold on her screen.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Has Strucker lost his mind? The whole world's watching."
She scanned a dossier pinged from Dr. Zola keywords highlighted.
Subject: Nolan.
A former Hydra researcher. Super Soldier Program. Genetic Division.
"This... is what he's after?"
Her mind clicked. "No… It's not about capturing him. It's about the serum."
She stood.
"Prepare the jet. I'm going to New York."
Her phone buzzed. A message in Japanese flashed:
"Awaiting your arrival, Madam."
She sighed. "Zola's getting reckless."
…
Back in the storm-soaked courtyard, the helicopters' light cut across the battlefield. Rain blurred everything.
But Nolan remained a ghost among flashes.
Dodging bullets. Twisting. Deflecting with his shield. Every shot that was missed hit someone else.
Then came the voice.
Bucky.
"You're finished, Nolan!" he growled, raising his rifle.
He fired rapid bursts.
Nolan raised his shield. Sparks flew.
"Bucky," Nolan said with a grin behind the shield. "Didn't think you were still functional."
With a burst of speed, Nolan charged straight into the gunfire blade flashing.
Clang!
Bucky blocked with his vibranium arm, the impact ringing like a bell.
"New upgrades?" Nolan mused.
"You're still garbage."
Bucky snarled, firing again.
Nolan swatted the bullets away like flies.
"Different toys. Same Motherfucker."
----
[Support with 100 PowerStones = 1 Bonus Chapter]
For early access to advanced chapters on p@treon:
P@treon/iamxeno
Thank you so much for your support and for reading!