Inside a small S.H.I.E.L.D. outpost, the air was tense and still.
In the ward where Bella lay recovering, more than a dozen figures in full S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical gear burst through the door. Their movements were quick, practiced, silent. Each one wore a black uniform, faces hidden behind reflective masks that obscured any hint of identity.
The leader, distinguishable only by a slight silver trim on his shoulders, raised a gloved hand. His voice, though muffled by the mask, was firm and hurried.
"Move. We don't have much time."
"Yes, sir!" the others responded in unison.
Without delay, the agents sprang into action. Seven of them fanned out to secure the perimeter and set up a false scene, while a second team approached the unconscious girl on the bed. One agent opened a secure metal case on the floor, revealing a syringe filled with a glowing green liquid. Another stepped forward to lift Bella's body.
But just as his hand reached her shoulder, he froze.
A black-gloved hand had shot up from the hospital bed like lightning, gripping his wrist with inhuman strength. The man's face contorted with pain, though he didn't scream—well-trained instincts kept him from making more than a muffled grunt. Even so, the sound echoed like thunder through the ward's uneasy silence.
Every other agent paused mid-task, eyes slowly turning toward the bed.
There, Bella sat upright, her dark eyes wide open and glowing faintly with restrained fury. A wave of dread rippled through the room.
She had awakened.
And too soon.
One of the agents gulped under his breath. "No way. She was out cold not thirty minutes ago…"
"What is this...02 ghost physique…?" the masked leader muttered to himself, cursing their luck.
Bella's head tilted slowly as her gaze drifted to the open metal case. Inside lay the syringe with its green contents, the sharp needle glinting under the fluorescent lights. She didn't know what it was, but it radiated nothing good. Her senses—unnaturally sharp and refined—picked up the agents' quickened heartbeats, the nervous sweat under their armor, the subtle tremble in their limbs.
Malice. Fear. Guilt.
All of it was written on them like a screaming warning. These people weren't here to help.
They were here to take her.
Her voice was quiet but carried weight like an avalanche. "Are you… trying to take me away?"
The words alone would not have been frightening. But from her, in this moment, they were the prelude to death.
A suffocating sense of doom fell over the ward. These agents had been trained to deal with the superhuman. But Bella wasn't just superhuman—she was a force of nature. A girl with the destructive power of a living weapon. The kind of power that could shatter meteorites and cleave tanks in half.
Even the masked leader faltered under her gaze. He hesitated—then steeled himself.
"Do it!" he barked.
The captured agent tried to grab her with his other hand. The rest moved swiftly, pulling out high-powered stun devices designed to incapacitate even Mutants. One agent lunged with the syringe, aiming to pierce her neck with surgical precision.
But they weren't fast enough.
Bella hurled the agent she was holding like a ragdoll.
Crash!
He slammed into the group behind him with bone-crushing force. Blood sprayed across the walls as three agents were knocked back—two of them slammed so hard into the ward's walls that the plaster cracked and their bodies twisted unnaturally. The last one didn't survive the impact, reduced to pulp.
Bella didn't even flinch.
Her weapon—the Black Oath of Victory Sword—rested beside the hospital bed. Its ancient enchantments made it impossible for anyone but her to wield. But in this moment, she didn't need a sword. She was the weapon.
"Zzztt! Zzztt!"
The surviving agents ignored the loss of their comrades and fired their stun guns, aiming for Bella's chest and legs.
But she was already gone.
A black blur zipped through the air.
Boom!
An explosive sonic wave erupted from her sudden movement, blasting agents off their feet. One flew headfirst into a wall and died instantly, skull shattered. Others landed in crumpled heaps, limbs bent at impossible angles.
Bella reappeared behind one of them—an unfortunate agent still raising his weapon. She lifted her leg in a smooth arc, and the force behind the kick sent him flying like a missile, his body smashing through two walls before vanishing into the night.
The rest followed, picked off one by one, crushed beneath her fists or torn apart by her sheer velocity. Her movements were too fast to track, her strikes too powerful to withstand. Within seconds, the entire team was wiped out.
Only the masked leader remained.
He stood frozen, surrounded by the remains of his squad. The once-sterile ward was now a battlefield—bloodied bodies embedded in walls, furniture reduced to splinters, and the stench of violence hanging heavy in the air.
The girl had her back to him, but even from behind, her presence was overwhelming. She stood calm, still, and utterly invincible.
Panic clawed at his mind.
So this was what true power looked like…
The Goddess of Judgment.
With a trembling hand, he raised his pistol, pointing it not at her—but at his own temple.
Bang!
He pulled the trigger.
But the shot missed.
Bella had moved with impossible speed, appearing in front of him just as the trigger clicked. She grabbed him by the neck, her fingers like an iron vice. With one hand, she lifted him off the ground and slammed him into the wall.
Crack!
The wall shook from the impact.
"Who sent you?" she asked coldly.
The agent struggled, his feet kicking helplessly.
"Kill me," he choked out, his face turning red beneath the mask. "I…won't…talk…"
Bella's eyes narrowed.
She didn't need confirmation. The answer had already become clear.
They were disguised as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, operating under the cover of authority, using advanced technology and acting with surgical precision. The only organization capable of such deception, with the motive and obsession to capture her, was—
HYDRA.
HYDRA had long coveted her power. Now they had found the perfect opportunity to strike—except they'd underestimated her recovery speed. Her powers had returned faster than expected. And now, she was stronger than ever.
She released the agent just as his consciousness began to fade. He slumped to the floor, coughing and wheezing, defeated but alive—for now.
Bella turned away, her face emotionless.
The surge of power she'd unleashed just now wasn't without consequence. She could feel it—her body had adapted better than before, but such explosions of magic still came at a cost. There was no telling how it would affect her next time.
Then—alarms blared.
Woowoowoo~!
Red lights flashed overhead as the outpost's automated systems responded to the chaos. Footsteps echoed in the hall—dozens of them. The real S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had been alerted.
Within seconds, a full squad of armed personnel stormed into the ward. Their weapons were raised, expressions grim and uncertain as they took in the carnage.
The scene was apocalyptic.
Dead bodies in S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms littered the room. Blood and cracked walls. Burned-out stun guns. A girl standing alone amidst it all, unharmed and breathing steadily.
"Drop your weapon!" one of them shouted.
"She's unarmed!" another called, unsure.
Still, every gun was trained on her. Tension filled the air like a powder keg waiting for a spark.
Bella looked at them calmly, her hands at her sides.
She had no intention of fighting them—not unless they gave her a reason.
Inside, her mind was already working through the next steps.
HYDRA had crossed a line.
And she would make them pay.
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