Here is theremoved
Important events
Cracks spidered across the reinforced bulletproof glass, each round of gunfire adding new fractures. The once-impenetrable wall trembled under the relentless assault of bullets.
Then, with a thunderous shatter—it broke.
A roar of triumph erupted from the armed personnel outside.
"Finally! Damn thing took forever!"
"Move in! I call dibs on the first shot to the skull!"
"I'm going for a headshot. You vultures keep your hands off my kill!"
They surged through the jagged opening like a pack of hyenas, guns raised, grins wide.
But inside the lab, Nathan was no longer the same man they had cornered.
After enduring what felt like a thousand deaths, he now lay on the cold floor, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell in steady, controlled rhythm. The agony was over.
In its place flowed a blazing current of strength, surging through his muscles and bones like fire.
He clenched his fist. An unstoppable force throbbed beneath his skin.
"It's done," Nathan whispered. A calm, deadly smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Then—he heard the shatter of glass.
His eyes turned cold.
"Now... it's my turn."
He rolled across the floor, lightning fast, and reached the surgical tray. There, he snatched up a handful of gleaming scalpels—razor-sharp tools once used to dissect corpses.
Today, they would be used to create new ones.
---
Outside, the guards skidded to a halt at the edge of the lab.
They saw Nathan move—and their confidence turned to panic.
"He's alive?!" one of them gasped.
"No... no way! How can he be moving? He injected the serum!"
Another guard swallowed nervously. "That speed... He… he actually succeeded?"
Panic took root in their ranks.
They had seen dozens of subjects take the serum. Not one had survived.
But this one?
He didn't just survive.
He transformed.
---
In the surveillance office, the supervisor stared at the screen in horror. His voice trembled.
"Impossible... It's impossible!"
Baron Strucker, still on the line, demanded answers. "What happened?! Speak!"
But the supervisor couldn't form the words. His eyes were glued to the screen—to the figure now moving like a predator in a cage.
"Baron..." he finally gasped. "He injected the serum... and he's still alive."
"Still alive?!"
Baron Strucker's voice snapped into full attention.
"Still alive, and... moving? Coherent?"
The supervisor nodded numbly. "He's fighting. With control. With strength."
Baron Strucker inhaled sharply. Once. Twice.
"Did he succeed? Did he succeed? Did he succeed?!" he barked, the same question three times in a row.
Because he knew—if Nathan had truly succeeded, it changed everything.
---
The guards, now terrified, opened fire blindly.
Bullets ripped through the lab, striking walls, metal, and glass. They aimed toward the experimental table where Nathan had vanished.
But the platform was solid metal—impervious to gunfire.
"Flank him from behind!"
"Cut off his escape!"
They rushed to encircle the lab bench.
But they weren't fast enough.
Nathan struck first.
He popped out from the other side of the platform—a flash of motion, a blur of power—and threw.
Whizz.
Thud.
A scalpel buried itself into a man's skull.
Whizz.
Thwack.
Another blade pierced a guard's chest, blood spurting.
A third slashed past one man's cheek—just a graze.
Not perfect. But deadly enough.
They screamed.
Two dropped instantly.
One dead. One writhing in agony.
The rest scattered, disoriented.
But Nathan didn't stop.
He dashed from behind the lab bench, a final scalpel gripped in his bloodied hand.
He moved like a phantom—no fear, no hesitation.
The enhanced serum hadn't just given him strength. It had heightened everything—reflexes, perception, precision.
He moved like a predator among prey.
Every movement calculated.
Every strike lethal.
Even with bullets flying around him, he didn't falter.
Instead, he adapted. Predicted. Countered.
---
A guard screamed as Nathan's blade sliced through his neck in a clean arc.
Psst!
Warm blood painted Nathan's cheek.
Another guard tried to raise his rifle—too slow.
Nathan's fist crashed into his throat. The man collapsed, choking.
Psst!
Another scalpel slashed downward, spilling blood across the lab floor.
One by one, the guards fell.
Gunfire turned to chaos. Chaos turned to silence.
Then…
Stillness.
The floor was soaked in blood. The walls spattered with it. Bodies lay twitching, still clutching weapons they never got to fire.
Nathan stood alone.
Covered in blood. Calm. Unbroken.
His breath steady. His eyes cold.
Like a demon born in a lab of death.
---
"Done," he said quietly. "Now... time to move."
He grabbed a rifle from one of the fallen guards. Checked the magazine. Loaded.
The weapon clicked, ready.
He slung it over his shoulder, grabbed another belt of ammunition, and turned toward the hallway.
"The control room comes next. The data there... I need it."
---
As much as Nathan wanted to burn the entire facility to the ground, he couldn't afford to linger.
HYDRA wouldn't stay quiet for long.
They would send more soldiers.
Maybe even enhanced ones.
Right now, Nathan was powerful—but he wasn't invincible.
He wasn't the Hulk. Or Thor. Or Superman.
He was a prototype.
A survivor.
A fugitive.
His time was limited.
But before he fled, he needed the data stored inside the control room. Names. Files. Coordinates.
HYDRA's research spanned decades. Their knowledge was dangerous—but valuable.
Nathan needed that edge.
Because the serum alone wasn't enough.
It was just the beginning.
---
He paused.
Took a deep breath.
Then moved.
---
On his way out, Nathan grabbed extra magazines, two pistols, and a flashlight.
He didn't need to be a soldier to know how to use a gun.
This was America. And in his old life, he'd been to more shooting ranges than he could count.
Click. He chambered a round.
Then, with the last task remaining...
He looked around the lab one final time.
Blood.
Broken glass.
Flickering monitors.
This place was hell.
It deserved to burn.
He grabbed several flammable chemicals from the shelves, unscrewed the lids, and poured them across the floor.
Then, from his pocket—a lighter.
Flick.
Whoosh.
A pillar of fire erupted, consuming the chemicals.
The heat radiated against Nathan's bloodied face, dancing in his eyes like fury incarnate.
The laboratory—his prison, his tomb, his birthplace—was now an inferno.
He turned and walked away, the flames roaring behind him.