Honestly, I don't know if I'll regret my choice, but I've made my decision. If I want to become a full-time author, there's no more room for laziness. These three chapters are everything. After that, I'll start taking things seriously, setting aside hours for research and not going to sleep unless a chapter has at least 2,000 words, ideally 2,500. So, let's give it a shot. The worst that can happen is dying.
...
Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., sat in his office, eyes scanning a stack of classified documents and reports.
Each one detailed recent developments linked to Charles Xavier—an individual whom Fury considered one of the most dangerous men on the planet. Possibly the most dangerous.
While many saw Magneto as the biggest threat, Fury knew better. Xavier's telepathy placed him in a different league altogether.
The ability to read minds, control thoughts, and even kill without lifting a finger—so long as someone was within his psychic range—made him a force that couldn't be underestimated.
And now, this man was planning to open a school for mutants? Every step he took had to be scrutinized.
"Beep! Beep! Beep!"
The sharp tone sliced through the room. Fury didn't enjoy interruptions, especially while reading something critical—but this sound he recognized.
Only a handful of people had access to that line: Hill, Barton, Romanoff, and Coulson. If it was coming from them, it was serious.
"Director, it's Hill. Something's happened that requires your attention and immediate decision. I'm sending you the details now."
Classic Maria Hill—no frills, just facts. Efficient and to the point. As her voice faded from the secure device, a set of new files appeared on the same screen.
The device, a compact yet powerful mini-computer, functioned much like a full desktop—it could send and receive images, video, documents, anything.
Fury's single eye narrowed as he opened the files. The first image showed a spacecraft drifting in space. The next, that same spacecraft struck by a strange red wave or wind, and finally, the vessel plummeting back toward Earth.
So far, nothing out of the ordinary. Fury had a decent understanding of the spacecraft in question—after all, any object leaving Earth's atmosphere and entering space was tracked by S.H.I.E.L.D. He knew the truth about alien life, and he wasn't about to let anything slip through the cracks.
He scrolled further, his eye flicking across the data—until it stopped.
The next image brought an immediate shift in tone.
The image, likely captured by a by the satellites, showed something far stranger: a thick, green gas seeping from the wreckage post-impact. It wasn't fire. It wasn't smoke. It was gas—dense, unnatural, swirling as if it had a mind of its own.
Then came another image. This one blurry, but unmistakable: a humanoid figure standing amidst the ruins. Her form was flickering erratically—phasing between a solid body and a gaseous state, as if she couldn't decide what she was, unfortunately, one can't see the complete image as if being interfered with.
Fury's frown deepened.
"Gas forms? Mutation mid-impact?" he muttered. "What the hell happened up there?"
...
The figure Fury was now observing—alive and standing amidst the wreckage—was none other than Ms. Viper. Against all odds, she had survived an impact that should have killed any human.
But even though she had lived through the crash, she knew this was no time to celebrate. Based on her calculations, the spacecraft had most likely crashed somewhere in New York.
And knowing how quickly the government—or more precisely, the military or S.H.I.E.L.D.—responded to such incidents, she figured she had only minutes before they arrived. Staying put wasn't an option.
At the moment, she was operating under the alias Alina Vetrova—a fabricated identity she'd constructed with precision.
A gifted rich scientist on paper, complete with all the credentials and background details necessary to pass a casual check. But she knew S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't in the business of casual.
The moment they dug deeper, they'd uncover the inconsistencies. The clock was ticking.
Unfortunately, her body was still unstable. Though the mutation had seemingly reached its conclusion, she hadn't yet regained full control.
Her form continued to flicker between her normal human body and a strange gaseous state. Still, something had clearly changed.
More alarming, however, was the nature of her gas state. Each time one of her feet accidentally phased into gas and touched the ground, the earth beneath would hiss and melt, as though it had come into contact with some potent acid. Whatever she had become, it was dangerous.
"Vroom! Vroom! Vroom!"
The sudden roar of engines at high speed reached her ears, instantly putting her on edge. She turned quickly, her muscles tensing as she prepared to either fight or flee.
But when the vehicle came into view, her posture eased.
It wasn't a military convoy. It definitely wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D. The car was a sleek, jet-black muscle vehicle, custom-built and far too stylish to belong to any government agency.
It skidded to a halt just a few yards from her, spraying dust and gravel into the air. A moment later, the tinted window rolled down, revealing a face she knew well.
Before he could even speak, Viper let out a low, amused chuckle. "Well, if it isn't Pierce's little lapdog."
There was no mistaking him. Hydra through and through. Brock Rumlow—better known as Crossbones—right-hand man to Alexander Pierce, and one of Hydra's most reliable enforcers.
Although Hydra was technically an organization, in truth, it lacked a single, clear supreme leader at present. There were only high-ranking members—each with their own ambitions.
Among them stood Baron Strucker, consumed by his obsession with obtaining powers; Baron Zemo, ever the enigma; Alexander Pierce and Arnim Zola, who operated as hardline allies determined to gain control over all the world's governments.
If it was Baron Strucker's people who had come to her rescue, then it wouldn't be much different from being captured by a government faction.
Strucker would lock her down, study her, try to turn her into a weapon. But Alexander Pierce—he was a different case altogether.
Pierce's current focus was on controlling S.H.I.E.L.D., not on experimenting with superhumans.
He would rather ally himself with another Hydra elite to push his agenda forward than waste resources on trying to tame her. That made him more useful… for now.
Anyway, she thought with cold confidence. 'even if I'm the weakest among the Hydra supremes at the moment, it's only because I've only just reached this status. With enough time, I'll dominate them all.'
'And if things got truly dire? If I can't save myself, she reasoned, I'll ask the goddess for help. She'll definitely teleport me to her realm. She wouldn't let me rot here… right?.
Rumlow had no idea what she was thinking. He simply stood there, stoic and silent, even as she wore that unsettling smile—mocking the very man who had just rescued her. But of course he didn't comment. This was Ms. Hydra.
Among the high-ranking members, she was reputed to be the most unhinged of them all—a complete psychopath who loved chaos for its own sake and feared nothing. And given that she had just melted the ground beneath her feet moments ago, he had no intention of provoking her.
When she noticed Rumlow didn't respond, it irked her. "You're boring," she said flatly, her tone sharp with disdain. But her irritation quickly gave way to practicality as a more pressing issue came to mind.
"So, how are we going to escort me? Are you sure that your vehicle can withstand my poison?"
Rumlow smirked beneath his tactical mask, though she couldn't see it. "Don't worry, Ms. Hydra," he replied coolly. "This isn't just any vehicle—it's been specially modified to handle internal grenade blasts, extreme temperatures, and even acid. Dr. Zola designed it himself."
Viper smirked hearing what he said, she didn't doubt Zola, although she hate scientists, it doesn't mean she wouldn't use their invention.
Well, she overestimated the car because when she hopped on, the back where it's specially enhanced, although it didn't completely melted up, it was still being eroded slowly.
What she didn't see trying to control her body was the shocked expression of Rumlow who have seen the scenes through the interior mirror.
He didn't completely stated this but I'm fact, Zola, as a man who calculate every possibilities didn't create this vehicle for fun or something.
It was created at the time when Hydra was looking at the cosmic cube, Zola said that this vehicle can contain almost anything, only if something like a nuclear bomb exploding can shatter it or cause big damage.
Although he didn't why Ms. Hydra's body have such a high level gaz or acide and how she survived, he knew one thing for certain, this woman would probably became more dangerous than ever, such a dangerous woman shall never be provoked.