Everyone quickly made their way to the deck. Along the way, soldiers rushed past with weapons ready, moving with urgency but not panic. When Ethan reached the deck, the sight before him made his heart clench.
Dozens of soldiers stood in a circle with their weapons drawn, glancing at each other, yet none dared to shoot. As soon as Fury and his group arrived, the soldiers stepped aside, revealing the man in the center of the circle.
The man's wounds were horrifying. His left arm, left leg, and the left side of his face were mangled, exposing bloody muscles and bone. Blood seeped from his wounds, painting a gruesome picture of pain. Half of his face was twisted and disfigured, with burnt and torn skin exposing shattered tissue and bone. His eyes were gone, replaced by dark, empty sockets that seemed to absorb the surrounding light.
But the remnants of a red cloak and a familiar half of his face left no doubt—this was Doctor Strange.
Thor stared in shock. "Doctor Strange? How did this happen?"
Doctor Strange sighed deeply, his remaining features contorted in sorrow. "It's the price I paid in a deal with a demon. I cast a healing spell to purge New York City of the virus, but I made a terrible mistake."
He explained, regret evident in his voice. "The demon twisted my words. The spell not only cured the virus but also allowed some zombies to heal their injuries. It's a mistake I can never forgive myself for."
Fury frowned, looking over the battered sorcerer. "You need immediate medical attention," he said, wary. His caution stemmed from Mr. Fantastic's recent infection incident—they couldn't risk bringing another potential source of contagion onto the carrier.
Relief swept through the group when the scanner showed green. The soldiers lowered their weapons, and medical personnel arrived with a stretcher, carefully helping Doctor Strange away.
As they watched him go, Fury turned to Ethan, his expression somber. "Computer, cancel the plan to use magic against the zombies." He looked back at Ethan. "Get ready to head to Latveria, Mr. Ethan. We're trusting you with this."
"Understood. But I'll need to gather some equipment first. Take me to the equipment bay."
"Of course. Take whatever you need," Fury replied.
A nearby agent guided Ethan through the massive Helicarrier, finally leading him to the equipment bay.
Ethan was stunned by what he saw. The space was vast and well-organized, with shelves lined with various weapons, protective gear, and technological tools. A light blue screen on the wall displayed the latest research and tactical data, casting a steady glow over the room.
At the center of the equipment bay was a large console table, surrounded by terminals and monitoring screens showing real-time battle updates and equipment inventory. Standing beside the console was a young Asian female agent in a black tactical uniform.
She held a device in her hand, and after verifying something, she approached Ethan. "Welcome to the Equipment Department, Mr. Ethan. I'm Agent Skye, responsible for equipment distribution and management. I'll do my best to provide whatever you need, as per Director Fury's orders."
For a moment, Ethan paused, surprised at the agent's name. Skye? Could this be the same Skye from the series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, or was it merely a coincidence?
"Mr. Ethan?" Skye asked, noticing his momentary daze.
"Oh, nothing," Ethan replied, smiling. "I need quite a few items; let's make a list."
Taking the pen and paper Skye handed him, Ethan quickly jotted down his requirements. As he moved around gathering supplies, Skye watched, taken aback by his efficiency and focus.
With a final glance, Ethan grabbed a large bag nearly the size of himself and prepared to leave. Just as he looked up, he spotted a tall man sitting silently in a corner of the bay. He wore a black shirt with a bold, white skull emblem—the unmistakable symbol of Frank Castle, the Punisher.
The Punisher sat quietly, assembling a firearm with a steely focus. His posture was upright, and his muscular frame exuded a determined energy, his skin bearing countless scars like badges of honor.
As Ethan approached, he felt the Punisher's intense gaze meet his own. According to the original plot, Punisher was supposed to have been caught and turned by a zombie after a mission failure. But thanks to Ethan's interference, Ash had been sent out of New York early on, sparing the Punisher.
After a moment of silence, the Punisher finally spoke in a low, gruff voice. "What do you want?"
"Fury promised I could take whatever I needed from the equipment bay," Ethan replied.
"And?" the Punisher asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
Ethan extended his hand. "I want you to come with me."
The Punisher raised an eyebrow, his gaze skeptical. "Why?"
Ethan smirked. "Because I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse."
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