The hololith shimmered in fractured pulses, its projection littered with static and distorted biometric signatures. Gamma traces laced the edges like ghost-fire.
Luthar said nothing for a moment. His oculars narrowed. The Forge's dim glow reflected off floating strands of gene-sequenced material rotating in stasis.
"He was already gone when they arrived," Lily reported.
"Expected," Luthar answered. "The Hulk is not the kind of entity to remain in one location."
He studied the oscillating DNA helix above the console. Gamma strands shifted unpredictably—patterns corrupted by metaphysical instability.
"Banner's form is saturated with dimensional anchors. He is not mutating—he's *anchored.* Bound to the One Below All."
Lily's voice sharpened slightly. "So he's a dead end?"
"No," Luthar murmured and decided to shift his focus as he tapped a rune on the cogitator, and the interface flared to life.
"Deploy the field unit. Harlem. Target: Blonsky. Wait until the transformation is complete, then engage."
The wind whistled between broken structures in Harlem—skeletal scaffolds clung to the sides of half-finished buildings, and the distant wail of sirens echoed without urgency.
Five Skitarii emerged from the shadows like spirits of metal and judgment. Their armour was bronze-red, etched in sigils of machine logic no human mind could decipher. They moved in formation—flawless, efficient.
Leading them was an *Alpha*, his movements deliberate, a transonic blade at his hip. Two *Vanguard* troopers flanked him, radium carbines humming with barely contained radiation. A *Ranger*, rail-slim and hunched beneath a galvanic rifle, watched from the rear. The fifth—an agile *Ruststalker*—drifted between them with twitching, insectile steps.
No words were spoken. No exhaust. No sound but the hiss of environmental seals and the crunch of shattered concrete beneath metal boots.
General Ross frowned, standing near a transport. "Who authorized this?"
A nearby soldier checked his tablet. "No transponder match, sir. Not on any active roster."
Banner, watching them approach, muttered, "They're not yours. That's for damn sure."
Betty stepped forward. "They're heading straight for—"
A roar exploded from the far side of the block.
The Abomination smashed through the wall of a collapsed warehouse, concrete flying like shrapnel. His monstrous form twisted with brute muscle and warped bone, eyes ablaze with gamma-born hatred.
The Skitarii didn't falter.
One emitted a distorted transmission:
> Gamma signature confirmed.
> Target Profile: Unknown.
> Engagement Directive: Combat Effectiveness Trial.
> Authorization Level: Tier-2 Wargear.
Weapons powered on. Radium carbines clicked into active load. Arc rifles sparked with chained voltage. The Ranger's optics narrowed, acquiring target locks with machine precision.
Ross barked at a nearby comms officer, "Get SHIELD on the line. Now." He needed to know if these things belonged to SHIELD.
Abomination moved first—on all fours, feral, crashing toward them in a blur of rage and motion.
The Alpha fired. An arc beam lanced out, striking the creature's shoulder and ripping into flesh with crackling light.
Abomination growled—but didn't stop.
He hit the front line like a meteor.
The Ruststalker was caught mid-lunge and hurled into a wall. His body didn't rise.
The others retaliated instantly. A radium fire raked across Abomination's torso, slugs embedding and detonating. Chunks of flesh tore free in bursts of sizzling gamma light. The Ranger's galvanic rifle cracked again and again—each shot a hammer of precision.
For a moment—a brief, tactical moment—they had the advantage.
In the Forge, Luthar observed silently. Data poured in—feedback loops, regenerative metrics, synaptic delays.
> Bone Density: 3.2x Human Norm
> Tissue Response: Delayed
> Cortical Integrity: Strain Threshold 88%
"Crude," he muttered. "But instructive."
One Vanguard moved to flank and fired an arc pistol into Abomination's exposed spine. The creature shrieked, muscles spasming uncontrollably.
Another Skitarii closed in, blade slicing deep into a tendon.
Abomination dropped to a knee. But instead of submitting, his eyes locked with inhuman clarity. His back arched—and with a sudden roar, he twisted, grabbing the Vanguard by the legs and tearing him apart like scrap metal.
The remaining two fired point-blank—but their blasts only scorched. Abomination hurled himself into the Ranger. The galvanic rifle shattered. The body crumpled.
Only the Alpha remained. Wounded, one arm torn loose, he activated a failsafe—radiation flared as his damaged battery ruptured, bathing the area in an invisible pulse.
"General!" the soldier barked, tapping his earpiece. "SHIELD says those aren't theirs—and they're picking up high-level radiation across Harlem!"
Ross turned to Banner. "Any idea why super soldiers have this much radiation?"
"I'm a scientist, not a magician," Banner said grimly. "Without a sample, I can't tell you the source—but whatever they are, we need to evacuate civilians. Now."
The SHIELD agent's voice crackled through the comms. "General Ross, you'd better prepare yourself. You're going to have a lot to explain."
Back at the Forge, Luthar stood silent as the signal from the last Skitarii faded. The hololith displayed a final flash of static.
"Field unit lost," Lily said quietly. "They nearly succeeded."
"They failed," Luthar replied flatly. "And that is the only result that matters."
He tapped a control rune. A secondary console displayed Abomination's degraded vitals—healing strained, rage cycle disrupted, and neural fluctuations erratic.
"That's really a bad result. "He paused, optics dimming slightly.
"If they weren't expendable... I could have equipped them with better gear than perhaps they *would* have succeeded."
Luthar turned from the display.
"If the local authorities manage to get their hands on any of the units," he muttered, "then peace will be the first casualty. I'll have to waste time in skirmishes just to retrieve my belongings."
He looked to the weapons rack—then to the forge's sealed vaults.
"Why must I always go to the battlefield personally?" he asked aloud, almost bitterly. "If this were a story of a proper novel, I would be discovering lost technologies, not fighting gamma-spawned mutants."
With that thought, he made his decision.
Stronger units with disposable pawns, so there won't be the same situation like today, where he has to personally go to the battlefield just to pick up some scraps.
Author's note: If everything goes right before the Sunday is over and I upload the 4 chapters, will still have 45 advanced chapters for as low as $1, it's a good way to support me as. the link is below; you can join to support me and suggest different novels while I can't start the new novel due to this one, in the future I plan to continue writing for that I would need lots of support.
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