The outskirts of Illinois had completely devolved into an absurd farce.
Agents from the FBI and S.H.I.E.L.D., like two packs of agitated stray dogs, were baring their teeth at each other amidst the ruins and Fire.
Their guns were aimed sometimes at the roaring modified beings, and other times vigilantly at each other.
"Don't block my line of fire, rookie!"
An old S.H.I.E.L.D.Agent roared.
"Mind your own business! You damn spies!"
The FBI Agent opposite retorted without showing any weakness.
Chaos is a virus.
Suspicion is its best petri dish.
That deformed monster, nearly three meters tall, didn't care at all about the infighting among these humans.
It lifted a section of broken steel beam and, as if swinging a straw, smashed it fiercely toward the FBI command vehicle!
"Scatter!"
Amidst terrified screams, the Agents scrambled to the ground in a panic.
The command vehicle was smashed into scrap metal.
In front of the television.
Audiences all across the United States saw this desperate scene through media lenses that "happened" to be in the distance.
In the face of a real threat, the FBI representing the nation and a mysterious department were useless for anything other than creating even greater chaos.
Washington D.C., Capitol Hill.
Inside Senator Robert Kelly's office.
He stared fixedly at the chaotic, ugly, and incompetent scene on the TV screen, trembling with rage.
"Live broadcast?!"
His voice turned shrill from extreme anger.
"Who the hell allowed them to broadcast this live?! Is this showing the people of the nation the government's incompetence?!"
He slammed his fist onto the mahogany desk, making the coffee cup jump.
"Investigate! Get me an investigation!"
"Which media outlet is it?! I want their licenses revoked! I want them to disappear from this country entirely!"
Chief Investigator Michael stood by the side, unable to say a word.
He knew this was completely useless.
This live broadcast shattered all the reputation and public support Senator Robert Kelly had previously accumulated.
What the public saw was not the evil of HYDRA, but the absurdity and fragility of government forces in front of the monster.
They had lost.
A crushing defeat.
...
Abandoned factory.
Peggy Carter knew she couldn't wait any longer.
If this continued, everyone would die here and become the biggest joke on tomorrow's newspaper headlines.
Her gaze pierced through the Fire and smoke, landing on Barbara Minerva, who was nearby, accurately firing a pistol to cover her teammates.
Barbara seemed to sense her gaze and looked back.
Peggy Carter's eyes were resolute.
She silently mouthed two words.
"Do it."
Barbara certainly understood what these two words meant.
Exposing her deepest secret in front of dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. and FBI Agents, and in front of countless lenses surrounding them.
But she saw the resolution in Peggy Carter's eyes.
Barbara nodded.
She took off her glasses.
In those amber eyes, human emotions were rapidly fading, transforming into a primitive, ferocious wildness.
Just a second before that aura, stemming from an ancient predator, was about to fully erupt.
The clamorous gunfire suddenly became somewhat distant.
It wasn't that the sound had quieted, but rather that a strange low hum appeared in everyone's ears, like the wind passing at high speed over an unsheathed blade.
Everyone stopped their actions.
Whether it was the roaring modified beings or the Agents guarding against each other, they all subconsciously looked toward the source of that chill.
In the center of the factory, in the most open area.
Someone had appeared, though no one knew when.
It was a man wearing a blue ronin outfit, with a long sword slung at his waist.
He had a mane of wild brown hair, his face bore the vicissitudes of life, and his eyes were so indifferent they seemed to see through life and death.
He just stood there; no one had seen how he appeared.
"Ha—"
The deformed monster let out a roar.
It sensed a threat and swung its fist toward that tiny figure!
The man didn't move.
He only slowly raised his hand and gripped the hilt of his sword.
With a gentle push of his thumb, the tsuba and scabbard emitted a crisp "click."
No one could see his movement.
People only saw a sliver of silver light, flashing by like a crescent moon.
Extremely fast.
Also extremely beautiful.
"Clang—"
A faint sound of the blade entering the scabbard rang out.
The man maintained his stance after sheathing the sword.
The deformed monster remained motionless.
A fine line of blood spread from its forehead down to its waist and abdomen.
A second later, that massive body, as if blocks separated by an invisible hand, slid apart neatly to both sides.
The remaining dozen or so modified beings became enraged Beasts, roaring and pouncing toward the man from all directions!
The man finally moved.
His figure turned into a cyan phantom that the naked eye couldn't capture.
"Hasagi!"
A desolate syllable echoed in the wind.
The sword light swept across the entire battlefield like a gale!
Every flash of the blade was accompanied by the separation of limbs.
It was an elegant and cruel Carnage.
The "squelch" sounds of blades slicing through flesh merged into one, yet were perfectly masked by the whistling wind.
Barbara stood frozen in place, her nearly completed transformation forcibly interrupted.
Peggy Carter's eyes widened, her lips trembling slightly, and the image of Steve Rogers flashed through her mind.
Steve is a shield, an unbreakable barrier that can block all harm.
While this man before her is a sword, an edge that cuts through anything, capable of tearing apart all obstacles!
In less than ten seconds.
The battle was over.
All the modified beings had turned into scattered fragments on the ground.
The man stood quietly in the center of the corpses, his long sword sheathed, shaking off non-existent blood from the blade.
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping casually over the dumbfounded FBI and S.H.I.E.L.D.Agents.
That gaze held no disdain, no pride.
Only a kind of indifference that had seen through life and death.
As if what he had sliced open was merely a withered leaf blocking his path.
He turned around, lifted the wine gourd at his waist, and took a drink.
Then, facing the wind, he walked step by step into the depths of the factory's Shadow.
"Stop!"
A young FBI Agent finally reacted from the shock, subconsciously raising his gun and shouting.
"Who are you?!"
The man didn't turn back.
His figure merged into the wind just like that, like a sand painting blown away by the wind, disappearing from sight.
Leaving behind only a sentence that drifted away with the wind.
"Death is like the wind, always by my side."
The entire battlefield was deathly silent.
A rifle in an S.H.I.E.L.D.Agent's hand dropped to the ground with a "clatter."
He didn't notice at all, just gasped with his mouth open, unconscious of his surroundings.
Everyone stared blankly at that open space, their minds completely blank.
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