The Blackwood Estate, London
"Do not question the methods, Kerry. Just find the anomaly."
Ernst's voice brooked no argument.
Kerry sighed, looking at the young man who spoke with the authority of a general.
"As you wish, Master. I will triple the sensor sweeps in Greenwich. If there is a crack in the world, we will find it."
Ernst nodded. He knew the Aether was there.
He just needed the coordinates.
It was a needle in a haystack, but he had time.
"Good. We are leaving."
Azazel grabbed Ernst's shoulder. The air warped, and they were gone.
Hydra Base, The Alps - 04:00 AM
They rematerialized in Ernst's private office.
The room was dark, the air stale.
Ernst checked the door handle. A single strand of hair he had placed there was still intact. No one had entered.
"Perfect," Ernst whispered.
"Go to your quarters. Rest. The show starts at 0900."
Azazel grinned, the blue light pulsing faintly beneath his red skin.
"I'll be ready."
The Corridor - 09:15 AM
The next morning, the base was humming with activity.
Ernst was in the lab with Dr. Erskine, reviewing the latest serum stability charts.
"The beta-blockers are holding," Erskine noted, pointing to a graph.
"But the aggression levels in the test subjects are still... problematic."
"Aggression is a feature, not a bug, Doctor," Ernst replied absently.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the hallway outside.
It was followed by shouting and the sickening crunch of bone meeting metal.
A junior researcher burst into the lab, eyes wide with panic.
"Dr. Ernst! Come quickly! It's your bodyguard! The Special Forces unit... they're killing each other!"
Ernst exchanged a look with Erskine.
"Excuse me, Doctor."
"Azazel moves fast," Ernst thought, hiding a smirk as he grabbed his clipboard and ran out.
The hallway was a war zone.
A dozen elite Hydra soldiers, Schmidt's personal guard, were scattered across the floor.
Some were groaning, clutching broken limbs. Others were unconscious.
In the center of the carnage stood Azazel.
He held the squad captain by the throat, lifting the 200-pound man off the ground with one hand.
Azazel wasn't just fighting; he was performing.
He was panting heavily, sweat dripping down his face.
And crucially, with every exertion, his veins pulsed with an eerie, sickly blue light.
"Put him down!" Ernst shouted, pushing through the crowd of terrified staff.
Azazel turned, his eyes wild.
He threw the captain against the wall like a ragdoll.
"He... insulted me," Azazel rasped, clutching his own chest as if in pain.
Before Ernst could speak, heavy boots echoed down the hall.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
Johann Schmidt had arrived.
"STOP!"
Schmidt's voice was a whip crack.
The soldiers who were still conscious scrambled to stand at attention, trembling, not from their injuries, but from the presence of the Red Skull.
Schmidt surveyed the damage. His elite guard decimated by one mutant.
"Explain," Schmidt demanded, his eyes boring into the squad captain who was wheezing on the floor.
The captain tried to stand but collapsed.
"General... the mutant... he attacked us..."
"Liar," Ernst interjected smoothly.
He walked up to Azazel, checking the mutant's pulse ostentatiously.
"Azazel has strict orders never to engage unless provoked. What did you say to him?"
The captain went pale. He looked at Schmidt, then at Ernst.
"I..."
"Speak!" Schmidt roared.
A younger soldier, terrified, stepped forward.
"Sir! The Captain... he called Mr. Azazel a 'cooked crab'. He said genetic filth like him should be dissected, not fed."
Schmidt's face remained stone cold.
He looked at Azazel, then at the Captain.
"You provoked a weapon," Schmidt said softly.
"And then you lost to it."
"General, please, "
Schmidt waved a hand.
Two of his personal guards stepped forward, dragging the screaming captain away toward the detention blocks.
Everyone knew he wouldn't be coming back.
Schmidt turned to Ernst.
"Your pet is volatile, Doctor. He is disrupting my base."
"He is sick, General," Ernst lied, his voice grave.
He gestured to the blue light pulsing under Azazel's skin.
"Look at him. The Tesseract energy exposure during a lab accident... it's destabilizing his cellular matrix even further. That 'blue glow'?. It's radiation leakage. His body is breaking down."
Ernst quickly pulled out a notepad and sketched a fake medical diagram.
"See here," Ernst pointed to the sketch.
"The energy is eating his telomeres. It causes extreme pain, mood swings, and... this luminescence. He lashed out because he is in constant agony."
Schmidt looked at Azazel with a mixture of disgust and disappointment.
He saw the blue veins and the sweat. He saw a broken tool.
"Is he dying?" Schmidt asked.
"Eventually," Ernst said.
"I can manage the symptoms with medication, keep him functional as a bodyguard. But his lifespan is shortened even further. He is... a tragic case."
Azazel played his part perfectly, letting out a ragged cough and slumping against the wall, the blue light flaring and then dimming.
Schmidt sneered.
"Pity. He fights well. Very well, Doctor. Keep your animal on a leash. If he disrupts my operations again, I will put him down myself."
"Understood, General," Ernst nodded.
"And the other soldiers?"
Ernst gestured to the bruised men on the floor.
"They were just following a foolish captain. Let them go. I need them to guard the perimeter, and Azazel clearly taught them a lesson."
Schmidt scoffed.
"You are too soft, Ernst. But fine. Get them out of my sight."
The soldiers looked at Ernst with sheer gratitude. He had just saved their lives.
——
Authors Note:
I have analyzed the physics of 'Writer Motivation.'
It turns out, my typing speed is directly correlated to the number of shiny blue rocks (Power Stones) in my inventory.
200 Power Stones = 1 Bonus Chapter
10 reviews = 1 bonus Chapter