The air inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. mobile operations van felt heavy as Black Widow's words echoed through the comms. Rain pattered softly against the windshield, but the weight of her revelation struck like thunder.
Hawkeye's pupils contracted. "HYDRA… created someone like Nathan? A walking weapon of mass destruction?"
Black Widow nodded grimly. "Yes. It may sound absurd, but after seeing what Nathan just did, it's possible. Think about it—HYDRA isn't just a gang of thugs anymore. They're a global organization with roots deep within S.H.I.E.L.D. itself. For years, they've siphoned tech, data, and funding for secret projects."
She paused, her tone sharp. "Remember Baron Strucker's lab? It gave us enhanced beings like Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver. They even tried to use the Mind Stone to create a synthetic intelligence like Ultron."
"If we hadn't stopped them back then... we'd never have uncovered the extent of what they were doing."
Hawkeye leaned back, jaw tight. "And that was just one base. God knows how many others are hidden across the globe."
Black Widow agreed. "Exactly. If one small HYDRA base could generate beings that rival the Avengers, then a hidden facility might've birthed someone like Nathan. A super weapon who could take on an entire battalion—and win."
The realization sent a ripple of fear through Hawkeye's spine. "If they can make one, what if they make more?"
"Let's not jump ahead," Natasha countered, though her tone remained cautious. "It's more likely Nathan was a fluke—like the Hulk. Accidental, uncontrollable. Maybe he gained those powers from some prototype serum or unstable experiment."
She exhaled slowly. "HYDRA couldn't replicate him, so they turned their eyes elsewhere—like they once chased after Bruce Banner. That would explain why they've gone to such lengths to capture Nathan. Not to eliminate him, but to study him. Reverse-engineer him."
The puzzle was starting to come together.
Hawkeye nodded slowly. "If that's the case... maybe they can't make another Nathan. That would explain why they're desperate."
He felt a wave of relief wash over him.
Natasha offered a small smirk. "If they could make more, we'd already be fighting a dozen Nathans."
The rest of the S.H.I.E.L.D. command room monitored the feed quietly. A heavy silence hung in the air until one of the field captains muttered darkly, "HYDRA's roots are still deep. Deeper than we thought. We need to stop treating them like they're wounded prey."
Commander Dumont—nicknamed Black Dumpling by his team for his bluntness—folded his arms. His face was stone. "Time to strike back. Hard. We've been too soft."
"Agreed." Maria Hill's voice was cold and determined. "No more mercy. HYDRA didn't break—they just went underground. We hit them again, this time with everything."
Unbeknownst to them, HYDRA had already been shaken to its core.
Because of one man.
Because of Nathan.
—
In the canyon, the storm still howled. Rain fell on blood-soaked stone. Nathan stood silently amidst the battlefield he had created. Around him were corpses, broken exosuits, charred weapons.
He looked skyward.
Without hesitation, he hurled a DNA contamination bomb into the air, then pulled a pistol from his belt and fired.
BANG!
The containment canister exploded, releasing a thick gas that mixed with the rainfall and soaked into the bloody soil. It would erase genetic traces and corrupt any attempts at DNA tracking.
Cleaning up. Covering his trail.
Mission complete.
He climbed the cliff like a phantom and disappeared into the jungle, racing toward New York.
—
Far above Earth, something else was happening.
A spacecraft, launched by the Life Foundation, veered off its return course. An unexpected system failure caused it to spiral down toward Earth.
CRASH!
The ship slammed into a forest with terrifying force, splitting apart on impact.
Personnel from the Life Foundation arrived shortly after, racing to recover the contents. They pulled several sealed canisters from the wreckage.
Inside those containers?
Liquid life. Shapeshifting, pulsating, intelligent goo. Symbiotes.
But something was wrong.
One of the canisters was broken. Empty.
The recovery team leader immediately called headquarters. "Dr. Drake, we've got a situation. One of the containers ruptured during the crash. The… subject inside has escaped."
Dr. Carlton Drake's voice crackled through the line. "Secure the rest. Get them to New York immediately. I'll handle the rest."
The containers were loaded into a transport plane—destination: New York.
—
At a distant HYDRA base, Baron Strucker sat in his command room, his hands shaking slightly as he reviewed the latest battlefield reports.
Moments ago, he was giddy. Confident. His trap was perfect. Nathan would be captured or killed.
But now?
The screen before him was flooded with loss reports.
"Report to Baron! Nathan is slaughtering the strike team!"
"Exosuit casualties: 4, then 32, now only 9 remain!"
"Winter Soldier casualties: 1, now 3! Only one remains!"
"Total field operatives: down to one-fifth!"
Each line on the screen made Strucker's blood run colder.
And then the final blow.
"Final report: All units KIA. Four thousand mercenaries, one thousand elite forces, 36 exosuit soldiers, four Winter Soldiers. Eliminated."
A deathly silence fell over the command center.
Everyone stood frozen, unable to process the scale of the loss.
"All… all gone?" one operative whispered.
"By one man? Is that even possible?!"
Strucker stared blankly at the screen. His lips trembled. Then—BANG!
He pulled his pistol and shot the nearest analyst, the man who had delivered the final report.
Blood sprayed across the monitors.
The others shrank back in terror.
The room went silent—just the sound of Strucker's ragged breathing.
He dropped the gun. It clattered against the metal floor.
He staggered.
This was the worst defeat in HYDRA's modern history. And it was delivered by a single person.
Nathan.
He wasn't just a rogue asset now—he was HYDRA's worst nightmare.
—
At that moment, a separate HYDRA observation team arrived at the canyon to assess the chaos. Their leader activated his earpiece.
"Madame Viper, we've arrived at the scene. Beginning recon."
They moved forward cautiously—then stopped cold.
The canyon was a graveyard.
Charred corpses. Torn exosuits. Mangled bodies stacked on one another. Rivers of blood.
Even the heavy rain couldn't wash away the stench of war.
The team gasped.
One of them stammered, "Ma'am, it's... it's a massacre. Stark's entire unit has been wiped out."
Madame Viper's eyes narrowed on the rooftop where she stood, far away in the city.
"Everyone? Are you sure?"
"Yes. No survivors. No signs of any other squads. No S.H.I.E.L.D. forces, no Avengers."
"Then who?" she asked, voice tight.
"Only one set of tracks going down and up the cliff. Only one individual was involved in this fight."
The silence over the comms was suffocating.
"Madame… we believe this was the work of one man. Nathan."
Photos were sent.
Viper stared at them in disbelief.
One man. All this.
She immediately pulled up Nathan's profile. The same weak dossier from Research Facility 71. A nobody.
She murmured, "Stark... so this is what you were hiding. You destroyed the facility to erase him."
"You tried to keep this weapon secret. But now he's free."
Her voice turned venomous.
"You lied to us, Stark. You let this happen. And you will pay."
—
Meanwhile, Zola, watching everything unfold via hidden digital portals, came to the same conclusion.
HYDRA's high council grew furious. Demands for answers came crashing down on Stark.
Stark had no data to share. No explanations. He hadn't even controlled Nathan to begin with.
But the council didn't believe him.
To them, Nathan was a failed superweapon that escaped—and now, Stark would bear the consequences.
Plots to eliminate Stark began in secret.
—
Back in the city, Nathan moved through the shadows, slipping past the chaos of New York's streets, his body still aching from the canyon battle.
But he had no time to rest.
Something darker loomed on the horizon.
The symbiotes were coming.
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