"He... just went down like that?"
Peggy Carter's slightly distorted voice came through the communicator.
Even through the static, one could hear the astonishment she couldn't fully conceal.
"He has his own way."
Lynn was quite calm, even beginning to check the equipment on his body.
A pure black combat suit and a compact parachute pack.
He couldn't be compared to that freak, Soldier Boy.
Before setting off, Lynn had already sent an encrypted telegram to Tom, a reporter for The Stars and Stripes.
The content was simple, but it was enough to make that keen-nosed reporter stay by the telegraph machine without eating or sleeping.
[Exclusive scoop. Codename: "Ragnarok". Location: Mountains of Wrocław, Poland. Protagonist: The Forgotten God of War.]
After tonight, the legend of Soldier Boy would no longer be just an ambiguous short article in a supplement.
It would become a front-page headline, an epic written in the blood and steel of HYDRA.
And he was the only chronicler.
"Return along the scheduled route in five minutes; that is an order."
Lynn finished his final sentence into the communicator and cut the connection without giving Peggy Carter any chance to respond.
He took two steps back, then ran and leaped.
In the cockpit, Peggy Carter frowned, sighed helplessly at the communication device, and refocused her attention on the dashboard.
A sense of weightlessness washed over him, and the sound of wind filled his ears.
He stretched his body in the air, gliding in a standard parachute posture.
This gave him enough time to enjoy the upcoming opening ceremony from an excellent god's-eye view.
"BOOM!!"
A loud noise came from the valley below.
The entire mountain range visibly trembled.
Lynn quickly adjusted his posture in the air to steady himself, his gaze locked firmly on the source of the sound.
He saw that the outermost concrete fortification of the complex marked as "Giant" had been smashed through by Soldier Boy.
Countless fragments of stone mixed with steel rebar exploded outward in a fan shape, centered on that hole.
The HYDRA soldiers stationed inside the fortress didn't even have time to scream before they were caught in this impact, which was comparable to a natural disaster.
"Woo—woo—woo—"
After a delay of a full three seconds, the piercing sound of alarms rang throughout the valley.
Beams of searchlights pierced the night sky, sweeping back and forth frantically.
Lynn opened his parachute at an altitude of less than a hundred meters from the ground.
The black parachute canopy flashed across the night sky and immediately carried him silently into a dense pine forest.
He unbuckled the parachute pack and casually hid it in a bush.
Immediately after, he took out a portable camera from his tactical backpack that had been hand-crafted by Howard Stark.
This had been a whim of his.
He hadn't expected that genius Stark to actually make it for him within two days.
It was compact in design but possessed military-grade image stabilization and night vision capabilities.
He hung the camera around his neck, adjusted the lens, and then blended into the shadows of the forest like a ghost.
A figure was walking out from the pervasive dust and rubble.
Soldier Boy was completely unharmed.
He twisted his neck, emitting a crisp "crack" sound.
Dense gunfire erupted.
The surviving HYDRA soldiers relied on their cover, pouring the tongues of fire from their heavy machine guns frantically toward the uninvited guest.
Bullets struck Soldier Boy's body, sparking tiny flickers of fire.
Soldier Boy was annoyed by this futile attack.
He casually scooped up a piece of concrete the size of a millstone from the ground and hurled it out.
The block of concrete smashed into a machine gun position with a whistling sound.
In a deafening roar, the machine gun, sandbags, and the three soldiers behind them were all turned into a pool of blurred flesh and blood.
This was a one-sided display of violence.
Soldier Boy had become a prehistoric tyrannosaur that had broken into a sheep pen, destroying everything before him in the most barbaric way.
He punched through an armored vehicle; the sturdy steel plates were like paper under his fist.
He even disgustedly dragged the driver inside out along with the seat, and crushed their head with a casual squeeze amidst their terrified screams.
He leaped over a trench more than ten meters wide, sweeping away an entire squad of soldiers attempting to surround him.
Lynn had become the most professional war correspondent.
Like a ghost, he moved along the edge of the chaotic battlefield, using the explosions and gunfire as cover, searching for the best camera angles.
He recorded the imposing back of Soldier Boy, bathed in the glow of fire, ignoring the hail of bullets.
He recorded the expressions on the faces of the HYDRA soldiers, mixed with fear, despair, and disbelief.
He even gave a three-second close-up shot to that blood-stained shield.
These were all materials used to weave a myth.
When Soldier Boy had completely torn the outer defense forces into shreds and began advancing toward the steel gate deep within the complex, Lynn turned off the camera.
There was enough material.
The real show was over.
Now was garbage time for the scavenger.
Lynn slipped into another auxiliary passage that had been blown open by the explosions.
He put on a pair of special insulated gloves and, with the help of low-light night vision goggles, calmly bypassed the tripwire alarms.
Soldier Boy was attracting all the attention and manpower at the front.
This turned the research area in the rear into a treasure trove with its defenses reduced to a minimum.
Lynn's goal was very clear.
The HYDRA energy weapon technology database.
According to the intelligence provided by Peggy Carter.
This Base was also one of the most important technical backup centers for HYDRA.
Deep in The Alps, the HYDRA headquarters Base.
Dozens of surveillance screens displayed the scenes of the slaughter inside the "Giant" Base.
Johann Schmidt, Red Skull, sat calmly on his Commander's throne.
He felt no anger, only a fanaticism bordering on greed.
His crimson face was illuminated by the flickering light of the explosions on the screens.
"Record it, Valentine!"
"Record his every movement, every exertion of force! Bone density, the limit of his muscle explosion! This is the masterpiece that fool Dr. Erskine dreamed of! A perfect... sample that can be replicated and surpassed!"
On the screen, Soldier Boy tore an armored personnel carrier in half with his bare hands.
He grabbed the broken track, the metal chain like a living steel python in his hands.
He violently smashed the energy turret that had just opened fire into a pile of sparking scrap metal.
"Did you see that, Valentine?"
Schmidt didn't even turn his head, his voice trembling as if he had discovered a miracle.
Beside him, a man wearing a blood-stained research uniform and a pig-face mask stood as still as a statue.
"This is the true Superman!"
"Pure power! The ultimate desire for destruction!"
Schmidt extended his finger, pointing through the air at the figure on the screen bathed in the glow of the fire.
"He is closer to the form of a god than any weapon we have ever created!"
A faint, suppressed sound of breathing came from beneath Professor Pyg's mask.
"Those puppets you went to such lengths to stitch together are nothing but inferior, fragile toys in front of him!"
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