Tracking the alien gear, Ada had come face-to-face with Hydra's infamous female commander—Madame Hydra. The two women stood off, guns drawn, locked in a fierce standoff.
Ada was still too soft. She didn't want to take a human life. If she fought like she did against the Chitauri, she could've wiped out a hundred Madame Hydras without blinking. But this was Ada's charm. Even in the bioweapon-ridden world she came from, she rarely killed people—her highest kill count belonged to zombies.
Now facing Madame Hydra, Ada leaned toward capturing her alive. But Madame Hydra wasn't going to let that happen. The two stood eye to eye, fingers on triggers, tension thick in the air.
"You're a funny little girl," Madame Hydra suddenly laughed and lowered her gun. "Even if you take these weapons back now, we'll just get them again later. Why bother? We operate on a whole different level." She was hinting that Hydra had already infiltrated the upper tiers of the U.S. government. Many high-ranking officials were in their pocket. These weapons would end up with Hydra eventually, no matter what.
Of course, she didn't say the whole truth. Though she was part of Hydra, Madame Hydra wasn't exactly in line with Red Skull or Baron Strucker. She played on a different tier—motivated by power and wealth. A criminal with simple, base desires. Red Skull and Strucker were a different breed—megalomaniacs who wanted to control or destroy the world.
If a hero still clings to low desires, they're not yet a true hero and can still fall. But if a villain only has base ambitions, maybe—just maybe—they still have a chance to change.
"You're still just one person. Brave, sure…" Madame Hydra tilted her head, hearing footsteps. Hydra soldiers were finally spilling out from the trucks behind her.
A group of large men formed a half-circle, rifles trained on Ada.
"Now it's your turn to drop the weapon. I'll make it quick," Madame Hydra said with a smile from outside the encirclement.
Ada stayed calm, her eyes cold. "You're really going to make me kill people?"
Big talk. Madame Hydra narrowed her eyes, cold glint flashing. "Every one of my men could fire once and turn you into Swiss cheese. How exactly do you plan to escape?"
"Who said I was escaping?" Ada slowly lowered her pistol.
Madame Hydra's smirk widened. She thought she'd won.
Then came Ada's next words: "I only need one shot."
Her arm moved like a blur, sweeping a semicircle in the air. One shot. One arc. One ring of blood.
The Hydra men all clutched their throats. In an instant, they couldn't breathe. The bullet had gone in through one soldier's neck, severed his windpipe, exited, and continued on. In a heartbeat, every soldier dropped. Only Madame Hydra and Ada remained standing.
Madame Hydra was stunned. Homing bullets? No, that wasn't a tracking shot—it curved. A single shot had taken them all down?! Her mind reeled. What kind of sorcery was that?! Bullets don't bend! This isn't science!
She looked at Ada again—and in her eyes, she saw something terrifying. Confidence. Absolute, effortless confidence. The kind of certainty that doesn't need aim, because the shot will land.
Her instincts screamed at her to retreat. And she obeyed them instantly.
"Smart choice," Ada said, holstering her weapon.
But Madame Hydra wasn't going to leave without a parting threat. "Don't think I'm giving up on those weapons."
She jumped, landing atop the truck in one smooth leap. Using it as cover, she quickly vanished from view.
"Don't worry. We're not on the same level," Ada said as she watched her slip away.
Ada didn't give chase. What was the point? Even if she captured her, Hydra's grip on S.H.I.E.L.D. meant someone would just let her go.
Better to let her run. For now.
Madame Hydra had left in awe of Ada's marksmanship. But then it hit her—Ada might be a mutant. Curving bullets like that? It was like Magneto bending the Comedian's bullet to assassinate Kennedy. In a world like this, anything was possible. And if Ada was a mutant, Madame Hydra had even less reason to go back. With Hydra's power, they'd get those weapons eventually anyway.
All the drivers had been ordered to clear out—as far away as possible. Ada walked up to the trucks, pulled out grenades, and, just like that big-bearded guy the day before, started setting them up. One grenade per truck. Five trucks. Five grenades.
That's right—Ada was going to destroy the entire load. Instead of letting it fall into the wrong hands, she'd rather wipe it all out. And she didn't hesitate. The cargo wasn't junk either—these were intact, untouched alien technologies. Still, she decided: destroy them.
That's what you call having principles. Ada's level was on a whole different plane from Madame Hydra. She was beyond schemers and backroom players.
Even the pilot could only stand back in silence. What Ada had chosen wasn't something a normal person could even consider. The risks? Way beyond just losing a job. If this went wrong, she could end up in front of a military tribunal.
But Ada didn't flinch. In her eyes, these weapons were pure disaster. Nothing good would come from them. "These things were never meant to be on Earth in the first place." At that moment, she wasn't just a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. She was a full-blown superhero, blazing with the ideals that defined them. She wasn't fighting alone.
Boom—
A mushroom cloud slowly rose into the sky.
Madame Hydra felt the ground tremble under her feet. She spun around, startled—only to see the road had vanished. The weapons were gone. All that tech, reduced to scrap. Her eyes widened in disbelief.
Who the hell was this woman?
Madame Hydra stared at the rising smoke. No way. No one should have that kind of nerve. Not even Nick Fury would've dared this. Those alien weapons were technically U.S. property. And yet, some random girl just blew it all up.
She thought back to what Ada had told her before leaving: "We're not on the same level."
Fury surged in her chest. All her plans to steal the weapons again—gone. Blown away in one giant, fiery middle finger.
"Ada Wong… I'll remember this," she hissed.
In truth, Ada's decision was in line with the values of many superheroes. They believed such dangerous tech had no place in human hands. Especially after what happened last night. A two-digit body count wasn't something Ada could forget.
Later on, Liu A'dou scolded his wife for the waste. "You could've at least called me! I could've hauled a truckload back to Antarctica!" Blowing it up like that? Such a waste. But even he supported Ada's decision in the end.
Blow it up? Absolutely. Those were weapons. Meant for killing. No matter who held them, they were trouble. As for reverse engineering alien tech? Liu A'dou had already looked into it. The mass-produced gear had no real value—nothing even close to the complexity of an Iron Man suit.
So yeah—blowing them up was the right call. He gave his lovely wife thirty-two thumbs up for it. It wasn't like any of it was theirs anyway. So what if it all exploded?
Liu A'dou didn't lose sleep over that. Not even a little.