Blinding high beams tore through the darkness on Brooklyn's streets. Three heavy armored vehicles fanned out, sealing off the intersection. The smell of scorched rubber from tires scraping asphalt mingled with the cold, damp air blowing in from the Hudson River, filling Steve's nostrils.
Doors swung open, and heavy combat boots hit the ground.
The man wearing a metal half-mask stepped out of the glare, the titanium alloy armor on his left arm reflecting cold arcs of light. Without a wasted movement, he raised a modified Grenade Launcher in one hand and aimed straight at Steve's chest.
Veins bulged on the back of Steve's hand as he gripped the handlebar. He stared hard into those utterly impassive eyes.
No killing intent, no emotion, only the mechanical quality of a program being executed. Lynn's words echoed like a curse in his ears-Hydra had brainwashed Barnes into a weapon that felt no pain.
Bang!
The grenade screamed toward him, trailing an orange-red flame.
Steve did not take it head-on. He kicked the heavy motorcycle over and used the momentum to roll diagonally backward. The violent blast overturned the trash cans on the corner, and debris struck the Vibranium Shield in a dense barrage of dull thuds.
Firelight bathed Steve's face in red. He knew this was absolutely not the time to fight Bucky to the bitter end. This was a meat grinder Hydra had set up. If he got pinned down here, everything in Washington, D.C. would be lost.
"Bucky, I'm not going to fight you." Steve lowered his center of gravity and hurled with his right arm.
The Vibranium Shield became a silver bolt of lightning, but instead of striking the Winter Soldier, it precisely severed the high-voltage cable overhead to one side. The thick cable crashed down onto the armored convoy, trailing eerie blue sparks. Several Special Operations Troopers who had just leaned halfway out were instantly electrocuted, collapsing in screaming convulsions.
The Winter Soldier snapped his metal left arm up to block the flying sparks and was about to pull the trigger again.
Boom! A stray bullet struck the fuel tank of the motorcycle Steve had kicked over, unleashing an enormous fireball. Thick black smoke instantly swallowed the entire intersection.
By the time the Winter Soldier swept the smoke aside and rushed to the center of the explosion, nothing remained but burning parts scattered across the ground. Using the fire as cover, Steve had already vanished into the tangled sewer network.
Washington, D.C., seven levels beneath the Triskelion.
The air reeked of machine oil and scorched rubber insulation. Pierce stood before the enormous main control screen, both hands braced hard against the console, his nails almost gouging the metal panel.
"Reporting, sir! Target one, Steve, has broken out of the encirclement! His whereabouts are unknown!"
"Report! Target two, Fury, has completely disappeared from tracking! No body has been found along the route!"
The successive reports made Pierce's breathing quicken, but they were not his greatest fear.
"Secretary!" A senior technician, drenched in sweat, hammered frantically at his keyboard, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "The firewall has been completely breached! An unknown Trojan has been planted in the underlying code of Project Insight's fire-control system! If we fire according to the original plan, the main guns on all three carriers will burst before they can shoot!"
Pierce abruptly seized the technician by the collar and half lifted him off his feet. "What did you say? How could anyone crack the algorithm Doctor Zola left behind?!"
"They have the highest level of clearance-level seven! And their computing power is terrifying!" The technician swallowed and pulled up a stream of data rapidly dissolving into gibberish. "He left a signature in our system..."
An outrageously smug smiley face popped up in the center of the screen, accompanied by a short line of text: [Thank you for the clearance card, Secretary Pierce. Resources received.-Lynn]
Pierce staggered back two steps as though a sledgehammer had struck him in the chest.
He understood everything. That low-ranking agent was no unlucky bastard being held hostage by a witch. Lynn had been playing him for a fool from the start! The three hundred kilograms of vibranium and that Level Seven Clearance Card had all been part of Lynn's scheme to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D.'s innermost network!
This man could not only hold the leash of that world-destroying witch with a few words, but also see straight through the trump cards Hydra had spent seventy years building, all while chatting and laughing.
"A monster... he's a monster through and through." Pierce stared at Lynn's wanted notice on the screen, his back completely soaked in cold sweat. He knew that once Steve made the list public, once Fury rallied the remaining loyal agents to strike back, or, worse still-if Lynn simply let go of the witch's leash...
Hydra would be finished.
"There's no way back." Pierce abruptly drew his sidearm and pressed it straight against the technician's temple, his eyes filled with the madness of a man at the end of his rope. "Switch to manual mode! Cut all external network connections! Get all three Helicarriers airborne immediately!"
"But Secretary, the Antigravity Engines are only seventy percent charged! Forcing a launch now will damage-"
"Launch! Now!" Pierce roared, jamming the muzzle harder against him. "Once the carriers enter low Earth orbit and the fire-control systems switch to physical targeting, we can blast that agent and his witch to pieces!"
Trembling, the technician entered the highest-priority execution command.
Outside the Triskelion, the surface of the Potomac River suddenly began to boil violently. Huge bubbles churned and burst as a piercing mechanical roar drew closer. Three immense steel behemoths tore through curtains of water and slowly rose. The eerie blue exhaust of their Antigravity Engines lit the night sky over all of Washington, D.C. as brightly as day. Amid the rising vapor, their enormous gun barrels reflected a chilling gleam.
The world-destroying weapons had been forced to bare their fangs ahead of schedule.
On the outskirts of New York, at the Brooklyn safe house.
The heat was turned up high inside, and the scent of freshly baked butter cookies drifted through the air.
Lynn reclined on the soft fabric sofa, holding a steaming cup of coffee. On his laptop screen, he watched the green nodes representing Hydra's internal network go dark one after another.
"Cutting the physical connections? Pierce, you have even less composure than I imagined." A mocking smile curved Lynn's lips.
The villain's stress response under extreme panic was entirely within his calculations. Only when a dog was cornered would it jump the wall. Only by getting those three carriers airborne would Steve, Falcon, and the others have room to act, allowing the cancer that was S.H.I.E.L.D. to be cut out completely.
"Lynn."
A pair of fair arms slipped around his neck from behind. Wearing an oversized knit sweater, Wanda rested her chin lightly on his shoulder. She followed Lynn's gaze toward the window.
Although they were hundreds of kilometers away, as a Skyfather-level wielder of magic, Wanda was extraordinarily sensitive to energy. The tenderness in her eyes vanished instantly, and a faint scarlet glow quietly gathered deep within her pupils.
"There are some very unpleasant things flying up there." Wanda's voice turned icy, red chaos particles already dancing at her fingertips. "They're full of killing intent. They're coming for you."
Lynn set down his coffee cup, reached back to take Wanda's wrist, and gently drew her around in front of him, settling her onto his lap.
"Never mind that scrap metal, darling." Lynn reached up to pinch Wanda's cheek, brushing the cookie crumbs from the corner of her mouth with his thumb. His voice was exceptionally gentle. "Just a bunch of rats hiding in the sewers, forced into the light where they can't survive. They can't hurt me."
"No one can hurt you." Wanda seized the front of Lynn's shirt in a fierce grip, her eyes filled with suffocating obsession and possessiveness. "If they dare open fire, I'll crush those three piles of scrap into iron balls and stuff them into the mouth of that man called Pierce."
Listening to this vividly graphic yandere declaration, Lynn laughed inwardly. He had no doubt Wanda could do it. After all, in the simulation in his previous life, she had torn apart even Ultron's vibranium body with her bare hands.
But he did not need Wanda to act yet.
It would take at least three hours for the three Helicarriers to rise, reach their designated orbit at thirty thousand feet, and complete manual targeting.
The outside world was already in utter chaos. S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, and the Avengers were about to engage in a fight to the death that night. Yet Lynn, at the very center of the storm's eye, had gained an exceptionally precious three-hour lull.
No one could disturb him at this time.
Lynn gently patted Wanda's back, soothing her restless magical energy. He slowly closed his eyes, and his consciousness instantly sank into the depths of his mind.
A system panel glowing an eerie blue unfolded before his eyes.
[Host's current status: Chaos magic affinity physique (incomplete)] [Simulation cooldown: Complete] [Begin the next 'Till Death Do Us Part' simulation?]
Lynn did not hesitate. In the extremely dangerous Marvel Universe, only by accumulating more and more trump cards could he survive among these yandere heroines who might lose control at any moment.
Begin simulation, Lynn said silently.
[Please select a simulation target.]
The wanted notice he had glimpsed outside the Clock Tower flashed through Lynn's mind, along with that nimble figure swinging through New York's night sky on webs. Although chaos magic was powerful, Wanda was too possessive. He needed sharper senses and more flexible means of staying alive to handle the potential romantic battleground ahead.
Target selected-Gwen Stacy.
[Target locked.] [Loading simulation spacetime... Current node: Final battle at the New York Clock Tower.] [May you die a worthy death.]
Lynn opened his eyes. He could no longer hear Wanda breathing. In its place came the ferocious cold wind at high altitude and the Green Goblin's piercing, manic laughter.
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