At some point, Baron Strucker realized that the Hydra soldiers who had been moving in and out of the command center had quietly vanished. He turned his head—and in that brief moment, a dull thud echoed behind him. His trusted aide, the scientist who had stood at his side for years, collapsed lifelessly to the floor.
"Come out!" Strucker shouted, his voice cracking with fear as he raised his pistol and scanned the room. But when he turned a full circle, there was no one—only the corpses and unconscious bodies of his subordinates lying in silence around him.
It was then that he truly understood why his men called him black-reaper. For those who could neither see nor sense his movements, facing him was less a battle and more a haunting.
He's here… watching.'
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
Driven to the edge, Strucker fired wildly into the shadows. Bullets tore into the walls, shattered monitors, and even struck the fallen Hydra soldiers—but none found their real target.
His breathing quickened. Sweat poured down his face. The hand clutching the gun trembled uncontrollably. For years, Strucker had believed himself prepared for death. But now, standing alone in this silent chamber, he realized how difficult it truly was to face it.
"What do you want from me?" he demanded into the void, his voice cracking under the strain. He knew that if his enemy wanted him dead, he would already be dead. Marcus was toying with him, and that made the dread even worse.
No answer came. Only suffocating silence.
Then, the main screen flickered. The surveillance feed vanished, replaced by a blank blue screen.
Startled, Strucker aimed his gun at it. A blinking cursor appeared—then began typing, one letter at a time.
"I want you to live."
Strucker froze. Then, a bitter smile crept onto his lips. Slowly, he raised the gun, the barrel trembling as he pressed it against his own temple.
"Damn you," he whispered.
Bang.
A red mist burst across the desk. The gun clattered from his lifeless hand.
From the corner of the room, Marcus stepped out of the shadows, the faint blue light of Loki's Scepter illuminating his face. Calmly, he picked up the pistol and fired several precise shots into the unconscious Hydra staff around him—then placed the weapon back into Strucker's limp hand.
The scene was perfect. A staged tragedy: Strucker, in despair, executing his men to protect Hydra's secrets before turning the gun on himself. Not flawless, perhaps—but convincing enough. After all, S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't the FBI. With hundreds dead in the siege outside, no one would bother to question a few more bodies inside.
Marcus surveyed his handiwork, then activated the command center's communications console. Mimicking Strucker's voice perfectly, he sent a message to the frontlines where the Scarlet Witch was still fighting.
"Hydra soldiers! We do not surrender! Let the Americans see the courage of Sokovia's sons! Hail Hydra!"
The transmission echoed across the battlefield. The Scarlet Witch, exhausted but resolute, redoubled her attacks—believing her leader was still alive and urging her on.
Strucker's death would eventually come to light, but for now, Marcus had all the time he needed.
---
His next move was to use Strucker's personal computer to send a secure message to Hydra's Russian branch. Within the message, he transmitted complete schematics for the Zombie Control Helmet, urging them to begin reproduction immediately using their government contacts.
The Russian Hydra faction, deeply entrenched in their nation's political and military structure, would undoubtedly take action the moment they received the data.
Of course, Marcus wasn't about to let it end there.
Using his advanced cybernetic skills—drawn from Tony Stark's knowledge and his own experience as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security advisor—he subtly weakened the encryption on the message before sending it.
Not enough to look suspicious, just enough that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s cyber-defense unit would "accidentally" intercept it.
A little leak in just the right place.
When the Americans discovered that Russia had gained partial control over the zombie virus, their reaction would be immediate—and predictable. Government tensions, military escalation, paranoia. All precisely what Marcus wanted.
The consequences would unfold later, once the first-generation zombie vaccine was complete. For now, his focus remained on securing every resource he could for the coming battle—the New York War—where he would unleash his undead army upon the world.
With Loki's Scepter now in his possession, the next target was the Scarlet Witch herself.
Marcus looked up at the large monitor, where Wanda Maximoff stood at the frontlines, her hands glowing crimson as she held back S.H.I.E.L.D.'s relentless assault. Even drained and trembling, her power was magnificent.
A faint smirk crossed his lips.
'Let her tire herself out. You've played your part, S.H.I.E.L.D. Now it's time for you to burn.'
He switched to another monitor feed—the Sokovia city center, where two monsters continued their earth-shattering duel.
Hulk and Abomination.
The green and gray titans clashed with apocalyptic force. Each blow cracked the streets and shattered the skyline. When Hulk charged forward, slamming his shoulder into Abomination, they crashed through the base of a skyscraper. The building groaned, tilting before collapsing entirely in a cloud of dust and debris.
Moments later, both giants emerged from the ruins, roaring and charging once more. Their fists collided midair with a shockwave that ripped the dust from the sky.
This time, however, the balance shifted. Abomination's raw strength began to overpower Hulk's. The green behemoth stumbled back several steps, then took a brutal punch to the gut that sent him flying across the street, crushing a row of cars and rupturing underground pipelines. Water gushed up from the cracked asphalt, flooding the street.
When Hulk rose again, his movements were sluggish. His breathing ragged. His roars, once thunderous, now sounded almost… human.
'He's weakening,' Marcus observed quietly.
And for the first time that day, a faint glint of anticipation flickered in his eyes.
_____
T/N:
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