Baron Strucker had always been paranoid, and his paranoia made him powerful.
The secret behind the creation of the Super Soldier Serum was something only he knew—and that was exactly how he wanted it. Not a single other soul could be trusted, for in his eyes, the moment a second person learned the truth, it meant the secret belonged to the world.
Inside the hidden Hydra facility nestled within the side of a mountain, alarms blared. Red lights spun in every hallway, sirens echoing like a mechanical scream through the reinforced corridors.
Nathan sprinted across the polished steel floor, his breath tight, his heart pounding with adrenaline. Behind him, the heavy steps of metal boots echoed.
The exoskeleton squad was in pursuit.
In front of him was a small laboratory—his only chance.
Without hesitation, Nathan slammed the door shut behind him, twisting the lock hard. He didn't need much time. He just needed enough.
Outside, four exosuit soldiers caught up. Their armor gleamed under the emergency lights, hydraulic pistons humming as they stepped forward.
BOOM! BOOM!
Powerful fists encased in mechanized armor hammered against the glass-reinforced door, sending deep vibrations through the room. The walls groaned but held.
From behind the glass, the leader of the unit snarled, veins bulging along his temple. "You're just buying yourself a few seconds, kid. That glass? It's tough, but not indestructible. We'll be through it in twelve seconds, max."
"Better come out now," barked another. "Because when we get in there, you'll wish you had."
But Nathan didn't respond. He was already at work.
Ducking below a metal table, he scanned the cluttered workbench. Scattered were circuit boards, unused copper coils, torn capacitors—scraps, in the eyes of any untrained soldier.
But to Nathan, this was opportunity.
He started pulling the components together with methodical speed. Moving into the blind spot of the surveillance camera, he murmured to himself, "Twelve seconds... more than enough."
Years of theoretical work and obsessive study kicked in. What he was about to build wasn't military-grade or polished—it was crude, dirty, and extremely dangerous.
An electromagnetic pulse generator.
Electromagnetic pulse—EMP for short—was a burst of high-intensity electromagnetic radiation capable of frying any electronics in its radius. With the right charge and configuration, it could render even Hydra's cutting-edge exosuits completely inert.
Nathan worked like a surgeon. He yanked wires, stripped insulation, soldered hastily but cleanly. A capacitor hummed to life under his hands, storing the charge. He tied copper wire around it in loops, creating the coil required to generate the pulse.
Outside, the exoskeleton team watched through the glass with puzzled expressions.
"What's this guy doing?"
"Looks like he's making... some kind of electrical toy?"
"Even if it's a stun device, what's he gonna do? Shock all four of us at once?"
The squad shared a dry laugh.
"Let him try. He zaps one of us, the rest will pound him into the floor."
They didn't understand. They weren't engineers. They couldn't see what Nathan saw.
Inside the lab, Nathan clutched the makeshift EMP in one hand. It looked like nothing more than junk—scrap twisted into a small, dangerous miracle.
Then the glass shattered.
BOOM!
Shards exploded inward as the exoskeleton squad burst into the room. One soldier cracked his knuckles. Another pulled back his arm, ready to bring his fist down like a sledgehammer.
"You're finished now!" one of them snarled. "We gave you a chance!"
Nathan stood still.
Then, he hit the switch.
BUZZZZZZZZZZZT!
A silent wave of energy burst from the device. Invisible to the eye, but devastating to machines. The magnetic pulse surged outward.
The four exosuits groaned and jerked.
Their hydraulics locked. The lights in their visors flickered and died. They froze in place like statues—iron giants caught mid-stride.
"What the—?"
"What just happened?!"
But Nathan didn't let them finish.
With a sharp, precise motion, he drew the surgical knife from his coat—its blade gleamed with cold efficiency.
SHLICK!
SHLICK!
One by one, he slit their throats. The suits kept their bodies upright, turning them into grotesque crucifixes—soldiers suspended in their own armor, dead before they hit the ground.
Blood trickled out. Nathan stood in silence, his chest heaving, sweat and blood mixing and dripping from his chin.
The surgical blade spun once in his fingers before he tucked it away.
He didn't waste time.
More Hydra soldiers would be coming.
He tossed the EMP aside, grabbed a sidearm from one of the fallen troops, and bolted for the exit.
Gunfire erupted behind him.
He returned fire without hesitation, nailing two foot soldiers in the chest. Without their exosuits, they were little more than targets.
Nathan exploded out of the lab into the open air.
The hidden facility had been carved into the belly of a forest-covered mountain. Outside, mist rolled through the trees and the air smelled of moss and gunpowder.
He scanned for an escape vehicle.
There—a Jeep parked under a camo net.
Nathan sprinted.
No key.
But it didn't matter. He ripped the panel beneath the steering wheel, twisted the ignition wires together—
VROOM!
The Jeep roared to life.
Before he drove off, he turned, aimed, and shot out the tires of three nearby vehicles. Reinforcements wouldn't follow easily.
Then he floored it.
The tires skidded over dirt and gravel, spitting mud behind him as the vehicle tore into the narrow mountain path.
Wind rushed through the open window. It was cold and sharp, but it cleared the taste of blood from his tongue.
Nathan exhaled.
For the first time in hours, he felt like he could breathe.
But he knew this wasn't the end.
Not even close.
Hydra would never let him go.
They would track him to the ends of the Earth. And he didn't have the strength to face them all—not yet.
He needed allies.
He needed Wolverine.
Logan's healing factor held the key to surviving the next step. Nathan had read enough reports, studied enough files to know: if he could replicate that self-repairing DNA, he could become untouchable.
But getting close to Wolverine would be its own battle.
Those adamantium claws were not friendly.
So Nathan had a new priority:
Acquire tools. Prepare for battle. Upgrade.
He had no delusions about heroism. He wasn't Captain America. He didn't wear a shield or a cape. He was a survivor, a rogue spark in a war of giants.
But if he played this right—if he survived long enough—he could change everything.
___________________________________
Get membership in patreon to read more chapters
Extra chapters available in patreon
patreon.com/Dragonscribe31