Bad news spread rapidly from the European front to every corner of the World.
At first, it was just vague battle reports mixed into the massive volume of military communication codes.
Cold and brief.
"Encountered unknown enemy unit type. Characteristics: No pain sensation, high regenerative capability, self-destruct attacks."
"113th Armored Division… completely wiped out."
"Western front positions completely collapsed. Requesting support! Repeat, requesting…"
These words were far from enough to describe the tragic state of the battlefield.
Until the first battlefield video was urgently delivered to Colonel Phillips' command post.
This veteran, who had rolled through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, saw his blood pressure skyrocket upon watching the recording.
His vision went black, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.
In the footage, those things known as "Perfect Beings" were a group of soulless walking corpses.
They had no facial features, only a face as smooth as a mannequin's.
They marched with uniform, precise steps, ignoring the hail of bullets, advancing step by step.
Bullets hitting them only caused ripples, and wounds healed visibly to the naked eye.
When they were torn apart by artillery fire, something even more terrifying happened.
The torn bodies collapsed into a blinding point of light, then suddenly exploded!
Everything around them, whether soldiers or tanks, was silently torn, devoured, and turned into nothingness.
They didn't even have time to cry out.
The battlefield where Soldier Boy was located turned into a bloody contest of strength.
He became an enraged bull.
Charging into the formation of "Perfect Beings" again and again, using his shield and fists to tear those monsters to pieces.
But every time he tore one apart, he had to endure a space explosion at close range.
Even as Soldier Boy, he felt waves of dizziness and nausea.
More importantly, these things were endless.
He could kill a hundred, a thousand, but they poured out from the HYDRA factories like a tide.
The Allied Forces soldiers behind him, as long as they got close to the combat zone, would be silently erased by those suicide attacks.
Not even a complete bone was left behind.
Soldier Boy felt it was becoming tricky.
He could hold his own position, but he couldn't lead the mortals behind him any further.
This war had become a war of one man.
On the Eastern Front, Human Torch became the only bright spot.
He hovered in the air.
Those "Perfect Beings" could not reach him.
High temperature was the only means to completely destroy these damn things.
Battle reports flew like snowflakes to Red Skull's command post, each one noting Human Torch's glorious achievements.
The most tragic situation was in France.
Captain America and his Howling Commandos had become a thorn in HYDRA's side.
Red Skull issued a kill order, sparing no cost to completely crush this "spiritual totem."
"Boom—!"
Steve held his shield firmly in front of him, but the violent explosion's shockwave sent him flying.
He slammed into a broken wall, his throat tasted sweet, and a mouthful of blood sprayed out.
"Captain!"
Dum Dum Dugan and several team members rushed over to help him up.
"I'm fine."
Steve wiped away the blood, his gaze fixed firmly ahead.
They were surrounded.
"Perfect Beings" swarmed from all directions, trapping their small unit in an abandoned village.
"Fuck!"
Bucky Barnes swapped in a new magazine, firing wildly at a "Perfect Being" rushing towards them.
That "Perfect Being" ignored Bucky; its target was only one—Captain America.
Steve, of course, knew this.
These monsters launched a fearless charge at him as if programmed.
"Cover me!"
After spitting, Steve took the initiative and charged forward.
He could not retreat; his brothers were behind him!
The Vibranium shield collided with the "Perfect Being's" fist, producing a dull, thunderous sound.
Steve used his Super Soldier strength to knock the opponent back, but two more quickly lunged from the sides.
He turned and swung his shield, smashing the head of a "Perfect Being" to pieces.
A point of light lit up.
Steve's pupils constricted, and he quickly held his shield horizontally in front of him.
The silent energy explosion made the Captain feel as if his internal organs were about to be squeezed out of his body; the pain made his vision go black.
"Steve!"
Bucky's cry of alarm was the last thing he heard before losing consciousness.
…
The next day, The Stars and Stripes used its entire front page to publish a blurry photo.
In the photo was that Vibranium shield deeply embedded in the mud.
The headline was only two words.
"Fallen."
The public, who were just a moment ago immersed in the frenzy of the "Guardian Angel's Arrival" and "The Three Gods' Expedition," were doused from head to toe with a bucket of ice water.
Their hero, that Captain America who represented hope and justice, was dead?
People rushed to the streets and gathered in confusion, their faces filled with fear and grief.
Countless people knelt in churches, praying that this was just a nightmare.
That spiritual symbol who would never fall, that scrawny young man from Brooklyn, that hero who charged into enemy lines alone to save his comrades… was he just gone like that?
HYDRA's "Perfect Beings" made the whole World feel what despair was.
If even Captain America couldn't defeat the enemy, who else could stop them?
…
The Alps, HYDRA headquarters.
Red SkullJohann Schmidt held a glass of red wine, admiring the chaotic Wall Street index on the screen.
Dr.Zola and Professor Pyg stood behind him, their expressions humble and fanatical.
"What a wonderful symphony."
Red Skull took a small sip of wine, his crimson face full of intoxication.
"The wails of the masses are the highest hymn to you, my Führer."
Professor Pyg flattered him in his hoarse voice.
"The collapse of a symbol is more useful than destroying ten divisions."
Red Skull turned around to look at his two right-hand men.
"Now, the whole World knows that their god can bleed, can die."
"And our Perfect Beings are immortal."
He drank the red wine in his glass in one gulp and smashed the wine glass hard on the floor.
"Pass on my order!"
"Let all Perfect Being legions assemble towards the front lines of Soldier Boy and Human Torch!"
Madness flashed in Red Skull's eyes.
"Since they like creating gods, then I will… personally stage for them—"
"Ragnarok!"
…
Across the ocean, New York, the underground nerve center of the Vanguard company.
Lynn Morris sat quietly on the sofa, the final frozen image on the screen before him was that Vibranium shield deeply embedded in the mud.
The internal line phone rang; it was Colonel Phillips calling from the front line, the background noise filled with irrepressible roars.
"Lynn! Did you see it! We F--King lost!"
Lynn ignored Phillips' roar, slowly raising his hand to tap on the console.
The image on the screen switched, revealing Red Skull's crimson and manic face.
"Lost?"
"No."
"The game is only just beginning."
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