Marvel Hunter - Chapter 18
Chapter 18: The Fortress in the Clouds
The transport VTOL ascended through the cloud layer, the engines screaming as they fought the thinning atmosphere.
Inside the cargo hold, Veer lay on the cold metal floor, his eyes closed, his breathing shallow. He wasn’t asleep. He was expanding his senses, pushing his hearing past the roar of the turbines.
He felt the change in pressure. He felt the sudden stabilization as the transport docked.
Clank. Hiss.
The ramp lowered.
Veer opened his eyes just a crack.
They weren’t on a mountain. They weren’t in a bunker.
Through the open bay doors, he saw the sky. Endless, gray, turbulent sky. And suspended in the middle of it, defying gravity and logic, was the Red Room.
It was a monstrosity of engineering. A floating city of steel and glass, held aloft by massive thrusters that churned the clouds into a permanent storm. It looked like a cancerous growth on the atmosphere, a Panopticon built to watch the world from above.
“Move!” a guard shouted, kicking Veer in the ribs.
Veer grunted, playing the part, and stumbled up. He was flanked by heavily armed soldiers. Natasha, Yelena, Melina, and Alexei were herded alongside him.
Even the other Widows were caught, so they can’t be put under chemical control again.
They walked onto the landing deck. The wind was ferocious, biting through their clothes, but Veer’s Ten kept him insulated.
He looked at Natasha. She was staring at the structure with a mixture of horror and grim satisfaction. She had found it. The ghost was real.
A group of elite Widows waited for them at the airlock.
“Take Romanoff to the High Office,” a commander ordered. “Dreykov wants her personally. Take the rest to the holding cells in Sector 4.”
Natasha didn’t fight. She didn’t look back at Veer. She simply nodded, her face a mask of icy resolve, and let them lead her away towards the central spire.
Veer, Yelena, Alexei, and Melina were shoved toward a freight elevator.
As the doors closed, separating the team, Veer smirked internally.
“Divide and conquer,” Veer thought. “Classic villain mistake.”
[The High Office]
The office of General Dreykov was a testament to his ego.
It was a circular room at the very apex of the station, walled entirely in glass. The world lay spread out beneath him—a map of nations he intended to conquer.
Dreykov sat behind a massive desk made of polished obsidian. He was a small man, unassuming in appearance, wearing spectacles and a gray suit. He looked like a bureaucrat, a tax collector.
But his aura…
If Veer had been there, he would have seen it. It was a slimy, suffocating gray mist. The aura of a man who fed on control.
Natasha stood in the center of the room. Her handcuffs had been removed, a gesture of arrogance.
“Natasha,” Dreykov smiled. It was a wet, repulsive sound. “Welcome home.”
“It’s bigger than I remember,” Natasha said, her voice steady. She walked to the window, looking out at the clouds.
“It has grown,” Dreykov agreed, standing up. “Just as my ambition has grown. When you left, we were merely spies. Now? We are architects.”
He walked over to a console and tapped a few keys. A holographic map of the world appeared. Red dots lit up in every major capital. Washington, London, Beijing, Berlin.
“You look at the world and you see chaos,” Dreykov lectured. “I see potential. But potential needs guidance. It needs a firm hand.”
He pointed to the map.
“The world is run by children, Natasha. Greedy, petulant children. Hitler tried to rule with armies. He failed because armies can be defeated. The Americans try to rule with money. But money fluctuates.”
He turned to her, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses.
“I rule with something stronger. I rule with influence. My Widows are everywhere. They are the secretaries of generals. The mistresses of senators. The scientists in the labs. They don’t fight wars. They start them. They end them.”
He stepped closer.
“I can crash the stock market with a text message. I can start a nuclear standoff with a whisper. I am the man behind the curtain.”
“And the little girl?” Natasha asked, turning to face him. “The one I killed. Antonia.”
Dreykov’s smile didn’t falter. He pressed a button on his desk.
A side door slid open.
Taskmaster walked in. She was out of her armor, wearing a tactical suit. Her face was exposed—the burns, the scars, the dead eyes.
“Antonia,” Dreykov said softly. “Say hello to Natasha.”
“Hello, Natasha,” Antonia said. Her voice was flat, synthesized.
“She survived,” Dreykov said, walking over to his daughter and placing a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t touch her with love; he touched her like one touches a prize horse.
“The explosion… it destroyed her body. But I saved her. I put a chip in her neck. I rerouted the neural pathways. She feels no pain. She has no fear. She is the perfect soldier.”
Natasha felt a wave of nausea. She had known Antonia was alive—she had fought her—but hearing Dreykov brag about turning his own child into a remote-controlled zombie was sickening.
“She copies everything she sees,” Dreykov boasted. “She is a mirror. And now, she is yours to fight.”
“I don’t want to fight her,” Natasha said. “I want to kill you.”
She moved.
It was a blur of motion. Natasha lunged for the gun on Dreykov’s desk. She grabbed it, spun, and leveled it at his chest.
“Goodbye, Dreykov.”
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Her finger didn’t move.
She tried again. She screamed internally. Pull it! Pull the damn trigger!
Her hand shook violently. Sweat broke out on her forehead. But the finger remained frozen.
Dreykov laughed. He walked around the desk, right up to the barrel of the gun. He pressed his chest against it.
“Go on,” he taunted. “Do it.”
Natasha gasped, dropping the gun. She tried to punch him. Her fist stopped inches from his face, hitting an invisible wall of her own biology.
“The pheromone lock,” Dreykov explained, adjusting his glasses. “It is installed in every Widow. A genetic failsafe. You cannot hurt me, Natasha. You cannot even think about hurting me without your body shutting down. You can smell me, can’t you?”
Natasha stumbled back, gagging. Now that he mentioned it, she could smell a distinct, musky scent coming from him. It was subtle, but it triggered a hardwired paralysis in her brain.
“You are a biological impossibility,” Dreykov sneered. “You are a dog trying to bite its master.”
He walked back to his desk and sat down.
“Now, let’s talk about the future. I heard you join SHIELD. It is a good decision. You are going to go back to SHIELD. You are going to get close to Fury. And when the time is right… you are going to open the door for us. The United States is a failing experiment, Natasha. We need to take revenge for the Cold War.”
Natasha stood there, shaking. She felt helpless.
But then, she remembered Veer.
Veer: “You are a bird in a cage. Let’s break the cage.”
She looked at Dreykov. She looked at Antonia.
She couldn’t shoot him. She couldn’t punch him.
But the lock relied on the olfactory nerve. It relied on smell.
Natasha closed her eyes.
“You’re right,” she whispered. “I can’t hurt you.”
She raised her hand. But not towards him.
She made a fist.
“But I can hurt myself.”
CRACK.
Natasha slammed her face into the edge of the obsidian desk.
The sound was sickening. Cartilage shattered. Blood sprayed across the pristine white floor.
Dreykov jumped back. “What are you doing?”
Natasha stood up. Her nose was shattered, bent at a horrific angle. Blood poured down her face, clogging her nostrils, filling her throat.
The pain was blinding. But through the pain, she realized something.
The smell was gone. The pheromone signal was severed.
She looked at Dreykov.
She grinned, her teeth stained red.
“Thank you,” she rasped. “For the surgery.”
Dreykov’s eyes went wide. He scrambled for the alarm button.
“Antonia!” he screamed. “Kill her!”
Taskmaster moved.
But Natasha moved first. She didn’t go for the gun. She kicked Dreykov in the chest, sending him flying into the glass wall.
[Sector 4: Holding Cells]
The cell was a reinforced steel box suspended over the abyss of the intake fans.
Veer, Yelena, Alexei, and Melina stood inside. Their hands were bound by heavy magnetic cuffs that locked their wrists to their waists.
Three guards stood outside the laser grid, laughing.
“The Red Guardian,” one guard mocked. “He looks like a beach ball.”
Alexei growled. “I will crush you! I will turn you into borscht!”
“Alexei, quiet,” Melina said, looking around the cell. “We need a plan. The locking mechanism is biometric. We can’t pick it.”
Cruch~
Suddenly sound came, and cuffs were torn physically.
The metal cuffs exploded. Shrapnel pinged against the walls.
The guards outside jumped. “What the—”
Veer walked to the laser grid.
“Alexei,” Veer said. “You want to be a hero?”
“Always!” Alexei shouted, though he was still cuffed.
Veer grabbed Alexei’s cuffs. Snap. He grabbed Melina’s. Snap. Yelena’s. Snap.
“Then go handle the big guy,” Veer said, pointing down the corridor where a squad of heavy troopers was approaching.
Veer turned to the laser grid. He placed his hands on the emitter nodes.
Ko.
He pumped aura into his palms.
CRUNCH.
He crushed the emitters like soda cans. The laser field flickered and died.
Veer kicked the steel door. It flew off its hinges, flattening the three guards standing behind it.
“Ladies first,” Veer gestured.
Yelena grabbed a stun baton from a fallen guard. “I love this guy.”
They stepped out into the corridor. The alarm was blaring.
“Intruders in Sector 4!”
A squad of Widows rounded the corner. There were twelve of them. They moved in perfect unison, drawing batons and knives.
Behind them, Taskmaster appeared. She had left Dreykov’s office to intercept the prisoners.
Alexei cracked his knuckles.
“The robot is mine!” Alexei declared. “I will show her the power of the Soviet Union!”
He charged Taskmaster.
Veer looked at the Widows.
“Melina, hide,” Veer ordered. “Yelena, cover the rear. I’ll handle the dance team.”
Melina ducked into a supply closet, pulling out a tablet to try and hack the ship’s engines.
Veer walked towards the Widows.
They charged.
To a normal human, they were a blur of lethal motion. To Veer, they were moving in slow motion.
A Widow leaped, aiming a spinning kick at his head.
Veer didn’t dodge. He caught her ankle.
“Too slow,” Veer said.
He swung her like a club, knocking two other Widows down. He tossed her gently—well, relatively gently—against the wall.
Thud. She slumped, unconscious.
[System Notification]
[Enemy Defeated: Black Widow (Elite)] [Merger Gained: 0.3%]
“Experience points,” Veer smiled. “Delicious.”
Two Widows attacked with electric batons. Veer directly held the electric baton, but he had Zoldyck electric resistance. Electric shock don’t hurt him.
Veer moved.
He vanished from their sightline. He appeared behind them.
Chop. Chop.
Two gentle strikes to the carotid arteries. They dropped.
[Merger Gained: 0.2%]
It wasn’t a fight. It was a harvest.
Veer moved through the squad like a phantom. He didn’t break bones. He didn’t kill. He used precise, surgical strikes to nerve clusters. He flowed around their attacks, turning their own momentum against them.
It was the Zoldyck style refined. Minimum effort. Maximum efficiency.
Within two minutes, twelve elite assassins lay unconscious in a pile in the hallway.
Veer checked his status.
He earned 1.2% merger. Which is good.
He dusted off his hands.
“Too easy.”
He turned to look at Alexei.
The Red Guardian was not having an easy time.
Alexei was strong. His super-soldier strength allowed him to punch dents in the metal walls. But Taskmaster was a nightmare.
Alexei threw a haymaker. Taskmaster ducked, copying the move perfectly, and countered with an uppercut that sent Alexei stumbling back.
“Stop copying me!” Alexei roared. “Get your own moves!”
Taskmaster tilted her head. She shifted her stance.
Suddenly, she began to vibrate.
Thud. Thud. Shhh.
Alexei blinked. “What is this? Is she dancing?”
Taskmaster moved. And split into four.
Rhythm Echo.
“No!” Alexei yelled, swinging his shield wildly. “Not the ghost trick!”
The afterimages surrounded him. Alexei punched a ghost. The real Taskmaster slid under his guard and kicked his kneecap.
Alexei howled, dropping to one knee. Taskmaster drew a sword, preparing to strike.
“Hey!” Veer shouted.
Taskmaster froze. She turned to look at Veer.
Veer stood at the end of the hall, surrounded by sleeping Widows.
“You copied Natasha,” Veer said, walking closer. “That’s cute.”
He cracked his neck.
“But can you copy this?”
Veer dropped into a stance.
Ren.
The purple aura exploded from him. It wasn’t the subtle Ten he had used before. It was a raging inferno of energy. The floor plates buckled under the pressure. The air began to vibrate with a low, terrifying hum.
Taskmaster’s HUD flashed.
WARNING. ENERGY SPIKE DETECTED. ANALYSIS FAILED.
She tried to copy his stance. She spread her legs. She clenched her fists. She strained her muscles.
But no purple fire came out.
“You can copy only physical skill,” Veer said, walking forward, his footsteps heavy and menacing. “But you can’t copy super power.”
Taskmaster abandoned the copy. She switched to tactical mode. She drew a grenade launcher and fired.
BOOM.
The grenade hit Veer directly in the chest.
Smoke filled the corridor.
Alexei covered his head. “Veer!”
The smoke cleared.
Veer was standing there. His clothes were singed, but the Ten—now reinforced with Ren on his chest—had absorbed the blast completely.
He brushed some soot off his shoulder.
“Rude,” Veer said.
He disappeared.
Silent Gait: Max Speed.
He appeared in front of Taskmaster before she could reload.
He didn’t punch her. He grabbed the sword she was holding by the blade. His Ko-reinforced fingers crushed the steel.
He ripped the sword from her hand and tossed it aside.
He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air.
“Sleep,” Veer commanded.
He pressed his thumb into the nerve cluster on her neck, pulsing a small shock of electricity (Zoldyck trait: Electric Resistance turning into manipulation) into her system.
Taskmaster convulsed and went limp.
Veer caught her and laid her gently on the floor.
[Merger Gained: 0.2%] [Synchronization: 73.5%]
Alexei stood up, limping. He looked at Veer with wide eyes.
“You…” Alexei pointed a shaking finger. “You are strong like me.”
“Yeah, super strong,” Veer winked.
Yelena ran up to them. “Melina hacked the engines. She locked the thrusters. The Red Room is stuck in a holding pattern. We have control.”
“Good,” Veer said. “Now let’s go get Natasha.”
[The High Office]
Dreykov was crawling across the floor, glass shards embedded in his hands.
Natasha stood over him. Her face was a mess of blood and broken cartilage, but her eyes were clear.
“You can’t kill me!” Dreykov screamed. “I am necessary! Without me, the world falls into chaos!”
“The world is already chaotic,” Natasha rasped. “We just manage it.”
She picked up the console from his desk. The master control for the Widows.
“How do I unlock them?” she demanded.
“You can’t!” Dreykov laughed. “It’s encrypted! If I die, the signal goes dead! They all die!”
The door slid open.
Veer walked in, followed by Yelena and Alexei.
“He’s lying,” Melina said, stepping in behind them with her tablet. “I built the system. The fail-safe releases them. It doesn’t kill them.”
Dreykov’s face fell.
“Melina?” he whispered. “You betray me?”
“You killed my pigs,” Melina said simply. (He hadn’t, but she needed a reason).
Veer walked over to Dreykov. He looked down at the small, pathetic man.
“So this is him,” Veer said. “The man who wants to rule the world.”
Veer grabbed Dreykov by the collar and hauled him up. He carried him to the shattered window.
The wind howled into the office. Thousands of feet below, the clouds swirled.
“No!” Dreykov screamed, flailing. “I have money! I have secrets! I can give you anything!”
“Can you give me a challenge?” Veer asked.
“What?”
“Didn’t think so.”
Veer looked at Natasha.
“Do you want to do the honors?”
Natasha wiped the blood from her mouth. She looked at the man who had haunted her nightmares for twenty years.
“No,” Natasha said. “He’s not worth the bullet.”
She looked at Veer.
“Let him fly.”
Veer smiled.
“Have a nice trip, General.”
Veer let go.
Dreykov screamed as he fell. His scream faded into the roar of the thrusters, swallowed by the gray sky.
Natasha walked to the window and watched him disappear.
She took a deep breath through her broken nose. It hurt like hell, but the air tasted sweet.
“It’s over,” she whispered.
Veer put a hand on her shoulder.
“Not yet,” Veer said. “We still have to land this flying city before it crashes.”
“Details,” Natasha smiled weakly.
She leaned against him.
“Thank you, Veer.”
“Don’t mention it,” Veer said. “Now, let’s get out of here. I think I left the stove on in Goa.”
As the Red Room began its slow descent under Melina’s control.