Become a Homelander and a Marvel superstar

We are currently at an altitude of 10,000 meters.

An unmarked black Osprey transport plane is weaving through thick cumulonimbus clouds.

Baron Wolfgang von Strucker sat in a leather chair, clutching the lead box tightly in his hand.

He opened the cap, and the T-VEX serum, emitting a faint blue glow, lay quietly inside, swaying slightly with the turbulence of the plane.

"What a pity."

Strucker sighed, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes.

"That scepter... is the key to unlocking the Age of Miracles. Just give me a little more time..."

"Damn Avengers!"

"Be content, Baron." A voice came to Strucker's ear, and he turned to look at Brock Rumlow who was walking over.

"...When God closes a door, he always opens a window. This thing may be more useful than a scepter."

"With this, you can unlock the secrets to how Vought's superheroes became so powerful. Then you can create a super army belonging to Hydra."

"You're right, Rumlow. Then Hydra will no longer need to lie in wait; we will rule the world!"

"In comparison, Garrett's 'Centipede Warrior' project, which used so many resources, produced nothing but garbage," Strucker said dismissively.

"Of course, I have to thank you for all of this, Rumlow." He raised his glass to Rumlow.

"If it weren't for the evacuation route you provided, we might already be in Arkham by those freaks in tight suits."

"This is Commander Pierce's arrangement, Baron." Rumlow grinned, his voice hoarse and deep, just like the original Crossbones.

"The officer said you are the brain of Hydra, and the brain cannot be damaged."

"Ah, Pierce." Strucker nodded. "Although I don't like that old fox's bureaucratic style, he was a true friend this time."

"Under these circumstances, he was still able to arrange an evacuation route and a new base for me. It seems that although he has lost power in the Security Council, he still has considerable influence."

"Of course, if Hydra cuts off one head, two new ones will grow back." Rumlow turned around and raised his glass in a toast.

"We always have a backup plan."

"So, where is the new base?" Strucker asked.

“Deep in the Alps,” Rumlow replied. “It’s a secret fortress left over from World War II, one that even the Germans couldn’t find back then. Pierce renovated it, making it fully equipped, well-powered, and completely isolated from the world.”

"Very good." Strucker closed his eyes with satisfaction. "I believe we will soon be able to bring true order to the world."

……

A few hours later.

The plane landed on a secluded runway in the Alps.

Guided by Rumlow, Strucker's team entered a blast door hidden in a valley.

"Welcome to the future, Baron."

Rumlow entered the password, and the heavy steel door slowly opened.

A wave of warmth washed over me.

Strucker had expected to see a dilapidated, old Soviet bunker.

But the sight before him stunned him.

A spacious and bright hall, spotless epoxy resin flooring, state-of-the-art centrifuges, gene sequencers, high-energy particle colliders...

The equipment here is a whole generation more advanced than the equipment he had in Sokovia!

"This...this is simply heaven!"

Strucker strode over to an analyzer and stroked it with obvious affection.

"Where did Pierce get all this stuff? I know some of these are the latest models from Vought Technology that have only appeared in promotional videos!"

"Commander Pierce has some special connections," Rumlow explained casually.

"It's not just about equipment."

Rumlow clapped his hands.

"Slap! Slap!"

The side doors on both sides of the hall opened simultaneously.

"Da da da da—!"

The sound of synchronized footsteps rang out.

Two teams of soldiers dressed in black combat uniforms and wearing full-face tactical helmets ran out.

They quickly lined up in front of Strucker.

"Snapped!"

A hundred boots stomped on the ground at the same time, the sound so synchronized it was as if they were all from one person.

"Long live Hydra!!"

One hundred people.

A full one hundred people.

Strucker was surprised to find that these people were remarkably similar in height, build, and even posture.

Their bulging muscles were clearly visible even under their uniforms, and each person exuded an aura of coldness, efficiency, and absolute obedience.

"this……"

Strucker walked up to a soldier and looked up at the burly man who was a head taller than him.

"Did Pierce give these to me too?"

“Yes.” Rumlow walked up to him. “This is Commander Pierce’s latest ‘Winter Guard.’ They’ve undergone special neuromodulation; they feel no pain, no fear, and are absolutely loyal.”

"They will be your assistants and your bodyguards."

"Baron, you can conduct your research here without worry. Even if the Avengers find this place, this guard can tear them to shreds."

Looking at this army filled with a chilling aura, Strucker felt an instant surge of security.

"Great! That's wonderful!"

He laughed and turned to pat Rumlow on the hard shoulder.

"Thank Pierce for me! Tell him I take back my previous assessment of him, and from now on we'll be best friends!"

Rumlow looked at Strucker's maniacally laughing face, a red light flashing in his eyes before disappearing.

"I will convey it, Baron."

……

Meanwhile, in a safe house somewhere on Earth.

At this moment, an atmosphere of "despair" permeated the air.

The living room lights were off, with only the oversized wall-mounted TV illuminating the space.

Nick Fury slumped on the sofa, a look of dejection he had never shown in public before.

His trench coat was thrown on the ground, and his signature eye patch was removed, revealing his grayish-white blind eye.

On the television, a special report from Water News was being rebroadcast.

The image shows the hellish laboratory in Sokovia.

They were those children, dressed in rags and covered in wounds.

It was the boy's empty eyes and that accusation that pierced Fury's heart like a bullet:

"...The black man with the eye patch found me...he said S.H.I.E.L.D. would protect me..."

Next, there was a close-up of an enlarged file.

The signature on it is Nick Fury.

Each letter felt like a red-hot branding iron, searing his retina.

"No...no..."

Fury's voice was hoarse, like the babbling of a dying old man.

"That's Project Secret Warrior...it's to protect the Earth..."

"I didn't sell them to Hydra... I didn't!!"

He suddenly grabbed the crystal ashtray from the coffee table and smashed it hard against the television.

"Bang!!"

The screen shattered, and sparks flew everywhere.

The accusing voice finally disappeared, and silence returned to the room.

But Fury knew it wouldn't work.

The whole world has seen it.

The whole world believed it.

Faced with that irrefutable "evidence," any of his defenses seemed pale and powerless.

He didn't just lose.

He was utterly disgraced.

Throughout his life, he did countless dirty jobs in the shadows and bore countless infamy for S.H.I.E.L.D. and for Earth.

He thought of himself as a Night Watchman, an unsung hero silently protecting the world.

But now, he has become a human trafficker, a Hydra chief, and a demon who sends children to hell.

It’s over.

It's completely over.

This black pot is harder than vibranium and blacker than a black hole.