EASTERN FRONT — NIGHT
Rain falls like shrapnel.
Mud sucks at boots. Barbed wire rattles under artillery shockwaves. The sky flashes white every few seconds as shells bloom across the horizon.
A young German infantryman stumbles into a crater, breath ragged, rifle shaking in his hands.
"Verdammt… verdammt…"
He looks up and freezes.
A child stands at the crater's edge.
Dark-skinned. Barefoot. Too calm.
Too still.
The boy's eyes reflect the distant fires like dying stars.
"Who... What are you?" the soldier stammer in German .
The boy tilts his head, listening—not to the man, but to the battlefield itself, then he appears in front of the soldier before touching his head, using a technique from Canon as he reads his mind and learning the basics of the language.
"…Wrong place," the child says softly, in accented but fluent German.
A shell lands nearby with a BOOM!
When the smoke clears, the boy was gone .
Dura moves through the war unseen.
He walks between bullets that should have hit him, between collapsing buildings that don't quite fall until he passes. His ki is pulled so tightly inward that even trained sensitives would struggle to notice him.
Suppressed Power Reading: < 300
He smells oil. Blood and Fear.
Just men killing men because someone else told them to.
He pauses atop a shattered farmhouse and senses something off.
Not ki but.....
Mutation.
POV .. HYDRA SCIENCE DIVISION
Deep beneath a forest, steel doors grind shut.
A man in a long black coat removes his gloves slowly, eyes gleaming behind round spectacles.
"Another failure?" he asks calmly.
A trembling assistant nods.
"The subject's mutation destabilized again. Psychic hemorrhage."
The man sighs.
"Wasteful. We need control, not fireworks."
A red-haired woman chained to a reinforced chair laughs weakly.
"You can't control what you don't understand," she spits.
The man smiles thinly.
"Oh, my dear… that's why we dissect."
Suddenly...
The lights flickered.
Every instrument spikes violently
"What was that?" the assistant whispers.
The man straightens.
"…Something just powerful entered this reality."
RUINED VILLAGE.... NIGHT
A small group of resistance fighters crouch behind rubble.
Among them is a tall man with metal braces wrapped around his arms, crude, humming with unstable energy.
A woman with glowing eyes peers into the dark.
"I sense… something," she says. "It's not hostile. But it's not human either ."
"Everything out here is hostile," another snaps.
Then...
A Nazi patrol rounds the corner.
Before anyone can react, the soldiers drop.
TAP TAP TAP..
Unconscious but Breathing.
Dura steps out of the shadows.
The resistance fighters raise weapons instantly.
"Easy," the glowing-eyed woman says slowly. "He's a child."
Dura meets her gaze.
"You can see me," he notes.
She swallows.
"…Yes."
"Who are you, I've never seen a child like you before?" the man with metal braces asks.
Dura considers lying.
Then decides against it.
"Someone who doesn't belong to this world."
The woman exhales sharply. "Join the club."
Artillery thunders again.
Dura looks toward the sound.
"You should move," he says. "Something worse is coming."
"And you know that how?" the man challenges.
Dura's eyes flicker faintly green just for an instant.
"Because I felt it notice you and your team ."
Silence.
Then the glowing-eyed woman whispers, "We can trust him."
No one argues.
Elsewhere....
EARLY SUPER SOLDIER PROJECT
Inside an Allied bunker, a broad-shouldered man with tired eyes slams a fist onto a table.
"We lost another unit to Hydra experiments," he growls.
A scientist adjusts his glasses nervously.
"There are… rumors, sir. Of a dark skinned child appearing on battlefields and skillfully neutralizing threats."
The man frowns.
"is it some kind of weapon?"
"…Or something worse."
The man looks toward the ceiling, jaw tight.
"Find him," he says. "Before Hydra does."
Elsewhere
Dura watches mutants argue strategy, watches humans risk their lives for ideals they barely understand.
He helps as a way to practice precise ki control and manipulation..
A snapped bridge collapses after civilians cross.
A tank jams mysteriously as it starts smoking...
A Hydra convoy never arrives as it's blown to ash....
Each time, his ki tightens further, adapting to this world's strange energies, cosmic radiation and mutations...
"…Different rules," he notes.
"But rules can be broken nonetheless ."
For the first time since leaving his universe, he feels something unfamiliar.
Curiosity.
....
POV HYDRA, AGAIN
The man with the spectacles watches grainy footage.
A shadow moving faster than cameras should allow.
A child's silhouette.
He smiles.
"Prepare the retrieval teams," he says softly.
"And alert our… benefactor."
A symbol flashes briefly on a hidden screen.
Not Nazi.
Something much older.
...
Dura stands alone on a hill overlooking the burning countryside.
Warplanes roar overhead.
He clenches his fist.
"This world will notice me eventually," he says quietly.
"The only question is, who notices first?"
ALLIED FORWARD CAMP... DAWN
Fog crawls low across the camp.
Engines idle. Soldiers smoke. Tents sag under rain-soaked canvas.
A tall, broad-shouldered man in a plain uniform steps out of a command tent, Steve Rogers, early in his career, posture straight, eyes tired but alert.
He stops short.
A child stands near the perimeter fence.
Barefoot. Calm. Watching everything.
Rogers frowns. "Who's kid is that?"
A sergeant scoffs. "No idea, sir. He just… appeared."
Dura meets Rogers' gaze.
For a moment, Rogers feels something he can't name, like standing too close to a tornado.
"Son," Rogers says gently, "this is a military zone. It's not safe here."
Dura blinks once and smiles a little.
"I know old man."
Rogers hesitates. "…You alone?"
"Yes."
The sergeant mutters under his breath, "not surprised."
Rogers shoots him a look. "That's enough."
Dura turns away without another word, walking past them like the conversation never happened.
Rogers watches him go, unsettled by his presence.
"That kid doesn't move like a civilian," he murmurs.
(EDGE OF CAMP)
A loud laugh cuts through the air.
A stocky man with a bow slung over his shoulder, Dum Dum Dugan eyes Dura skeptically.
"Kid's got nerve wanderin' around like that," he says. "Doesn't look like he belongs here ."
Another soldier snorts. "Where'd he even come from? Don't tell me command's lettin' just anyone in now."
Dura passes them.
Dugan calls out, half-joking, half-not. "Hey, kid orders say civilians clear the line."
Dura doesn't slow.
Dugan's smile fades. "You deaf?"
Dura stops. Turns his head slightly.
"I don't take orders from people who don't understand what real power is.. ," he says calmly.
The group goes silent.
Dugan stares. "You got a mouth on you, boy!."
Dura resumes walking.
Behind him, a soldier mutters, "Someone oughta teach him respect."
____
POV.. MUTANT SAFEHOUSE
Inside a half-destroyed church, candles flicker.
A woman with silver hair and sharp eyes, Raven Darkhölme, not yet the future legend,watches Dura from the shadows.
"Interesting," she murmurs.
A young telepath beside her frowns. "I can't read him."
Raven arches a brow. "That's not possible."
"I know," the telepath whispers. "But it's true."
Dura pauses at the doorway, glancing back not at the telepath, but directly at Raven.
She stiffens.
He knows.
He nods once acknowledgment, not respect and leaves.
Raven exhales slowly.
"That child," she says, "is not from around here"
POV — HYDRA OBSERVATION ROOM
Hydra does not rush.
They watch.
They catalog.
They notice what others miss.
A thin man in a tailored coat gestures to a projection of Dura moving through camps and ruins.
"He avoids leadership figures," the man says. "Ignores authority does not respond to intimidation like I child should ."
A woman beside him tilts her head.
"Then we don't command him."
She smiles faintly.
"We just need to convince him."
THE PLAN
The next village burns louder than the rest.
Hydra makes sure of it.
They staged a massacre, just visible enough to attract the right attention .
Survivors fled in panic. The screams are real and so was the fear.
Dura arrived minutes later.
Too late to stop the disaster
He kneels beside a wounded civilian, stabilizes them with precise pressure, eyes distant.
Then he feels it.
A signal.
Subtle. Clean. Purpose-built.
A frequency designed to resonate with compressed energy.
He straightens.
"…Clever," he murmurs.
Black-coated soldiers emerge not pointing weapons, not shouting.
One steps forward, hands open.
"We can help you stop this," the man says calmly. "If you come with us."
Dura looks past him, toward the horizon.
He senses the facility beneath the forest. The labs. The cages.
He could kill them then leave.
Instead, he nods, wanting to see where this goes.. .
"I was hoping someone would ask."
Before more words could be said, 2 soldiers approach an cuffed him with strange handcuffs.
Telling him that it's protocol during the war..
The restraints hum as they lock around his wrists.
Energy dampeners. Crude but inventive.
His power drops.
Active Reading: < 200
The Hydra officers exchange relieved looks.
"He's cooperating," one whispers.
Dura lowers his head, hiding a faint smile.
Show me your nest you idiots , he thinks.
POV SWITCH
DRAGON BALL VERSE
A cold chamber.
A throne of polished stone. The Tyrant lounges, tail flicking lazily as a hologram plays, the scouter footage, the report, the word anomaly repeated again and again.
"So," Frieza says lightly, "a child killed King Vegeta's elites… and then vanished."
His eyes narrow, as he hums softly .
"How irritating."
A subordinate bows deeply. "Lord Frieza, perhaps the Saiyans... "
Frieza raises one finger gently
Silence.
"I tolerated their king because he was predictable," Frieza says softly. "This is not."
He rises .
"In this universe ," he continues, voice silky with menace, "I will not be caught unprepared."
Frieza then proceeds to walk out the lounge and makes his way to another room..
He steps into a training chamber, one few have ever seen.
"I've relied on transformation limits long enough," he muses. "My stamina is… a vulnerability."
His aura flares, controlled, elegant and terrifying..
"I think I'll correct that first ."
The chamber seals.
Screams echoed in the chamber as his own power pushed back against itself.
Frieza smiles through clenched teeth.
"Let them evolve," he whispers.
"So will I."
.....
...
POV, HYDRA BLACK SITE, BAVARIAN ALPS
The room was white.
It was sterile, surgical and bleached of mercy. The walls hummed faintly with generators buried deep in the mountain, and red banners bearing the Nazi and Hydra sigils hung like watching eyes.
Dura stood at the center.
Metal restraints, alien alloys scavenged from failed Tesseract prototypes, clamped around his wrists, ankles, chest, and neck. They crackled softly, emitting a suppressive frequency designed for mutants. Useless to him , but clever.
Hydra scientists circled him.
They spoke German. Sharp, clipped, efficient. Their words were dissective, not curious.
"Primitive physiology," one muttered, adjusting a dial.
"It's not an Aryan . Not mutant either,"
another sneered.
"Whatever he is, it bleeds. Everything bleeds."
Dura's head was lowered. His hair obscured his eyes. His ki was buried so deep it barely registered, like a sleeping volcano pretending to be a hill.
They mistook his quiet stillness for weakness.
A needle the size of a dagger slid from a mechanical arm, humming with energy. It pressed against his skin.
It snapped.
The alloy needle shattered like glass.
The room froze.
Slowly... Dura lifted his head.
His eyes were calm.
That terrified them more.
"Interesting," the lead scientist whispered. "Increase voltage. I want to see pain in those eyes not Defiance ."
The restraints surged.
The floor shook from Dura standing up.
The clamps screamed as metal warped. One by one, the restraints folded like paper crushed in a fist. The collar exploded outward, embedding shards into the far wall.
Ki output 200 to 1000 then back to 200..
Silence.
Then
Dura moved.
He didn't rush. He walked.
The first guard raised his rifle but he never got the chance to fire . Dura's palm tapped his chest lightly almost gently.
The man folded backward as if gravity had betrayed him, spine shattering on impact with the wall,
CRACK!
The second guard screamed something about containment protocols.
Dura exhaled.
A ki pulse, compressed to the size of a heartbeat, rippled outward, the emerald pulse
SPLAT!
Every human in the room slammed into the walls at once. Bones cracked. Glass imploded. Blood painted the white sterile floor in chaotic arcs.
Dura looked down at his hands.
"This world," he murmured softly, voice low and alien,
"likes to bite off more than it can chew" .
Alarms wailed.
Hydra soldiers poured in from reinforced corridors.
Dura's aura flickered green, but faint,controlled. Not rage Just Intent.
He vanished.
A soldier's helmet dented inward as Dura appeared behind him. Another was lifted by the throat and thrown hard enough to punch a man-shaped hole through reinforced steel.
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets sparked and flattened against an invisible pressure around Dura's body.
He didn't even look at them.
He raised two fingers charging up a green ki attack...
A thin, emerald beam cut the corridor in half.
When the smoke cleared, there was nothing left beyond the line no bodies, no walls, just molten ruin.
Dura stepped over the remains and kept walking.
POV, HYDRA PRIVATE BUNKER, UNKNOWN LOCATION
Deep beneath another mountain far from Bavaria, a private chamber glowed with dim blue light.
A man sat in the shadows.
A Hydra officer stood rigidly before him, visibly shaken.
"The new asset is uncontrollable," the officer said. "He is not a mutant. Not enhanced. He is... "
"a weapon," the man finished calmly.
A holographic projection flickered to life, replaying footage from inside the facility, Dura tearing through soldiers like paper.
The man leaned forward slightly.
Metal gleamed beneath his glove.
"Not captured," he corrected. "Observed."
The Hydra officer hesitated.
"Sir… may I ask, who exactly are you backing this operation for?"
The man smiled faintly.
"For the future," he said.
"And for those who will inherit what this world becomes when gods decide to walk it."
Behind him, partially obscured by shadow, lay fragments of alien tech not Chitauri.
Something older.
Something that hummed in response to the footage.
"Let him run," the man said.
"Every cage teaches a beast how to break the next one.".
POV, EUROPEAN THEATER
Rain hammered a ruined village.
Captain America stood beside a shattered Hydra convoy, shield resting at his side. Bucky Barnes knelt near scorched metal that had been cut, not blasted.
"This wasn't us," Bucky said slowly.
A young mutant barely more than a boy, touched the ground, eyes glowing faintly.
"Whatever did this…" he whispered, "it's gone. Like it never wanted to be found."
Logan, rougher, less patient, snorted.
"Kid didn't move like a soldier," he growled. "Didn't move like human either."
Steve frowned, staring into the distance.
"He was here," Steve said.
"And now he's gone ."
"We lost him," Bucky muttered.
Steve tightened his grip on the shield.
"No," he said quietly.
"We crossed paths with something that doesn't belong to anyone or any faction."
POV, DURA, MOVING THROUGH THE NIGHT
Dura stood on a ridge overlooking burning ruins.
Searchlights swept the valley below. Distant artillery thundered.
He felt it now.
Eyes.
Plans.
Fear.
Not from Hydra alone.
This world was crowded with watchers.
He clenched his fist hard.
"Too many hands," he said softly.
"Too many ambitious people."
His aura dimmed further, nearly gone.
"I need to refine my skills in combat"
And then
He vanished into the darkness.
Not fleeing but hunting
...