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MCU: Skull and Bones

A guy who dies and reincarnates in an AU MCU as Brock Rumlow, a.k.a Crossbones. With no cheats or wishes, he'll have to navigate his way through this dangerous place with nothing but his casual fanboy knowledge. **** This is an AU universe where small changes or stuff from the comics come into play. The MC will be a lot younger than he was in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. He'll be born around the time captain marvel came to earth (1995) and I'll try to stick as close as I can to the MCU timeline. MC is very selfish and benefit-oriented. HE IS NOT A GOOD GUY, so if your looking for some half-ass Villian MC this is not it.

Swarthy · Filem
Peringkat tidak cukup
94 Chs

Revenge Tour (pt.7)

2014

Sokovia

HYDRA Research Base

Basement Level

(Omniscient POV)

"Join us, Pietro," Dr. Whitehall announced cheerfully, projecting his voice for the young man outside the cell. "Come and greet your sister."

At his words, the young man who stood just outside the reinforced cell doors, his head bowed in contemplation, suddenly started forward with inhuman speed. In an instant, he appeared inside the chamber, his body stiff and awkward as he gazed at the woman restrained within. The metal attached to his scalp glistened in the dim light, and his vacant eyes flickered slightly with a hint of recognition.

The scarlet glow emanating from the woman's eyes dimmed slightly as they locked onto Pietro, her expression a mix of disbelief and confusion. Her mind raced as she tried to process the unexpected arrival.

A jumble of memories and emotions surged within her, memories of a time long gone, a family torn apart.

"P-Pietro?" she breathed, her voice tinged with both hope and incredulity.

Dr. Whitehall stood off to the side and watched the exchange with a sadistic smile, his amusement was evident in the way he relished their emotional turmoil.

"W...Wan....da?" Pietro stammered, his voice breaking as he struggled to find his words amid the programming infused within him.

The scarlet glow faded from the woman's eyes, replaced by a look of shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. It had been two years since they'd both been taken captive and even though she knew they were being held in the same facility, she hadn't seen or heard anything of him until this moment.

"Oh, how touching," Dr. Whitehall crooned, his voice dripping with mockery. "A family reunion in the heart of HYDRA's finest establishment."

Wanda's eyes flickered between Pietro and Dr. Whitehall, not sure what was happening or why her twin brother now looked like some kind of botched Frankenstein monster.

She wanted to reach out to her brother, to hug him, to tell him how much she missed him and that everything will be okay, but she couldn't move. All she could do was gaze at him helplessly with tear-filled eyes, waiting for something to make sense again.

Pietro's gaze shifted from his sister to his master, Dr. Whitehall. His eyes narrowed as a spark of defiance broke through the fog of his conditioning.

Memories, fragments of his past, began to pierce through the hazy mental barriers that HYDRA had constructed in his mind. He remembered moments of happiness, of laughter, and shared secrets with his sister. He remembered a life before they were both ensnared in this nightmare.

But even as he tried to remember those precious memories, he could feel how the machine that was now attached to his brain was altering and twisting them, distorting and erasing any trace of their existence.

Wanda could see something in Pietro's eyes, something that worried her deeply. It was almost like there was an internal struggle going on within her brother's mind—a battle of wills where the machine was slowly winning out over the remnants of his humanity.

Pietro's eyes glazed over, and the lines around his mouth deepened with a grimace of pain. As that unnerving vacant and placid expression settled upon his features once more.

"W-what have you done to him?" Wanda demanded, her eyes beginning to emit an ominous crimson radiance.

Dr. Whitehall glanced between the twins, and his smirk became wider.

"I've simply shown him his rightful place in this cruel world," he replied merrily as if commenting on the weather. "A puppet forced to dance for my amusement."

His mocking tone cut through Wanda's heart, and she felt herself go numb all over, unable to comprehend what was happening.

"No...no...NO!" Wanda screamed in anguish as she struggled against her restraints, her hands starting to flare with an ethereal scarlet glow. "You cannot have him! I won't let you take another part of me away!"

She grits her teeth as the radiance intensified, growing brighter by the second. But just as the scarlet energy was about to be unleashed, the metallic bands of her restraints glowed with a sudden surge of energy, absorbing and neutralizing the energy Wanda was emitting. The technology embedded within her restraints recognizes the impending danger and responds by restricting her powers.

The scarlet radiance enveloping Wanda quickly flickered and died down, leaving her panting and frustrated.

Dr. Whitehall watched with amusement as Wanda's attempt to break free was thwarted.

"Ah, the unpredictable power of Mutants," he mused, his eyes gleaming with fascination. "So much potential, yet with a little science and ingenuity, so easily controlled."

Wanda's breaths were ragged, her frustration boiling over as she glared at Dr. Whitehall. The realization of how powerless she truly was in this situation was like a heavy weight settling over her.

Pietro's vacant gaze remained locked on his sister, his expression now a mask of indifference, a stark contrast to the emotions that had briefly flickered within him. The machine attached to his skull pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the hold HYDRA had over him.

"P-please," Wanda's voice cracked, her eyes welling with tears as she pleaded with Dr. Whitehall. "Let him go. Take me instead. Please, I'll do anything you want. Just....please, release him!"

Dr. Whitehall's sadistic smile widened as he leaned in closer to Wanda, relishing in her desperation.

"Oh, you sweet child," he cooed mockingly, "such a touching display of sisterly affection. How heartwarming."

Wanda's voice trembled as she continued to beg, her desperation pushing her to new depths.

"I-I'll do whatever you want," she implored, her voice quivering. "Just release him from whatever you've done to him. Take me instead. Just let him be free!!"

Dr. Whitehall's gaze bore into Wanda's with a cruel intensity, his amusement evident in his cold, calculating eyes.

"I think you seem to have misunderstood your position here, my dear." he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "You see, you don't really have a choice in this matter, and I don't plan on letting either of you go."

As he spoke, his thoughts danced with visions of possessing two powerful mutant slaves, bending them to his will, and using their abilities for his own dark purposes.

The possibilities were intoxicating.

But just as his sinister musings reached their peak, a powerful tremor suddenly shook the very foundation of the building. The walls around them groaned, and the ceiling above them cracked, sending dust and debris raining down.

Dr. Whitehall's triumphant reverie was shattered, and his attention snapped back to the immediate danger at hand. His sadistic grin faltered as he realized that something disastrous was happening above them.

"What in the world..." he muttered, his voice laced with disbelief.

The tremors continued, intensifying with each passing second, as the alarms continued blaring throughout the facility, their shrill wails filling the air.

Dr. Whitehall turned to Pietro, his voice commanding and urgent. "Prepare her for transport, quickly! We need to evacuate this place immediately!"

Pietro's vacant gaze seemed to sharpen for a moment as he processed Dr. Whitehall's words.

Without a second thought, he moved with blinding speed. The metal attachments on his scalp glinted as he moved in a blur, disconnecting the restraints that held Wanda against the wall. With a swift motion, he grabbed hold of the chains that had bound her and guided her out of the cell.

Wanda stumbled forward, her body feeling weak from the ordeal. She looked up at Pietro, a mixture of sadness and concern in her eyes.

Dr. Whitehall hurriedly led the way, his footsteps echoing down the corridor as he directed them through the dimly lit halls towards a heavy door that presumably led further down the facility, the sound of the alarms and the rumbling tremors echoed around them, creating an atmosphere of chaos and impending danger.

The two Mutants and Dr. Whitehall reached the door and he began entering a code to open it, but just as he finished inputting the code and took the first step through the newly opened doorway-

*Crash!!!*

A deafening impact reverberated from behind them, drowning out the alarms as the ceiling above the holding cells a few feet behind them suddenly collapsed in a cascade of stone and debris, filling the lower level with dust and smoke.

The shockwave rippled through the hallway, causing the walls to shudder and the lights to flicker.

Dr. Whitehall turned back, his face a mask of shock as he saw the destruction. Amidst the settling dust and dim lights, a pair of glowing crimson eyes stared back at him, piercing through the smoke and chaos.

A sense of dread washed over him as he spotted a figure clad in gleaming, blackened armor stepping forward through the hail of debris, his presence radiating an aura of raw power.

The fear in Dr. Whitehall's eyes was palpable as he stumbled over his own feet, desperately retreating from the advancing figure.

At his side, Pietro tightened his grip around the chains as he instinctively shielded Wanda behind him, his gaze also drawn to the source of the disturbance.

Without wasting a moment, Dr. Whitehall slammed his hand down on the control panel, initiating the door-sealing sequence. As the heavy door began to slide shut, he caught a glimpse of the armored figure's unrelenting advance, his heavy footsteps echoing through the corridor.

With a final, desperate push, the door sealed shut, cutting off the pursuing figure and leaving him on the other side.

Dr. Whitehall leaned against the wall, his chest heaving as he frantically entered a sequence on the panel beside the sealed door, activating a deadly poisonous gas that quickly spread through the lower level of the holding cells.

As the poisonous gas began to fill the lower level, the tortured prisoners trapped within their cages began to writhe and convulse as the deadly gas filled their lungs. Their screams of agony pierced the air, creating a gruesome symphony of suffering as their bodies bleed and contorted in horrifying ways.

Dr. Whitehall's lips twisted into a cruel smile as he watched the carnage unfold on the security monitors. The agonizing deaths of those trapped within brought him a sick sense of satisfaction, a reminder of his genius and the power he wielded.

But the smile on his face soon vanished as he saw the armored figure with the glowing crimson eyes emerge from the poisonous cloud, seemingly unaffected by the deadly gas.

With a relaxed stride, the armored figure walked through the scattered rubble of fallen stone and debris, his glowing eyes not even acknowledging the numerous dying prisoners who writhed in agony around him as his gaze was locked onto the barred door before him.

As he reached the heavy door, his armored gauntlets curled into a fist and, with a powerful motion, he struck out with a tremendous force that shook the entire structure of the holding cells. The massive doors shuddered under the immense impact, but the powerful blow only left a sizable deep dent in the augmented metal.

The figure paused momentarily, clearly impressed with the strength of the door's construction.

"Impressive," he remarked, his voice, distorted by the modulator in his helmet, sounding almost amused. "Though I doubt it would hold me for long."

He shrugged the thought away as if it were nothing more than a trivial detail, then stepped forward once more and prepared to strike again.

*Boom!*

On the other side of the sealed door, Wanda's scarlet eyes shimmered with a mixture of awe and curiosity. She had witnessed the arrival of this mysterious figure, and his power was unlike anything she had ever encountered.

Beside her, Pietro's vacant expression had shifted to a mix of puzzlement and apprehension. The programmed loyalty that had been ingrained in him was warring with a growing sense of danger.

Dr. Whitehall turned away from the monitors, his breath still labored from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He exchanged a tense look with Pietro and Wanda, his expression a mix of anger and desperation.

"We need to keep moving," he snapped, his voice shaky but determined. "There's another way out from here. Follow me!"

They hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the blaring alarm mixing with the occasional heavy thud of the massive door being battered by the relentless assault of the armored figure behind them.

Dr. Whitehall's fingers danced over a control panel beside the next door they reached and the heavy door slid open, revealing a stairway that led further into the depths of the facility.

"Keep moving!" Dr. Whitehall demanded as they hastened down the passageway.

As they ran, Dr. Whitehall called out a warning to Pietro. "And make sure you keep hold of her!"

Pietro nodded numbly as he dragged his sister along behind him, his gaze focused ahead on where they were going.

The two men focused on what lay ahead, failed to notice that the young woman they were escorting was slowly beginning to detach from her immediate surroundings.

Her eyes, which had been wildly flickering with a light scarlet glow, seemed to lose focus on the path ahead. Instead, they were drawn backward, locked onto the direction they had come from, where the armored figure's presence had left an indelible mark.

Despite the urgency of their situation, an otherworldly pull tugged at Wanda's senses, a faint yet persistent whisper in her mind that seemed to beckon her to turn around, to return to the figure who radiated with that...familiar?...power and an enigmatic connection she couldn't quite explain.

Pietro's steps faltered for a fraction of a second as he felt a subtle change in Wanda's pace. He cast a backward glance at his sister, his expression blank but with a hint of concern as he registered the distant look in her eyes.

"St..ay fo..cu..sed," he muttered, his mangled voice soft but laced with a note of urgency.

Dr. Whitehall cast a quick glance back at the siblings, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"Keep moving, both of you!" he barked, his patience wearing thin.

But Wanda's attention remained divided, torn between the path ahead and the mysterious figure behind them.

The tremors and alarms faded into the background as a singular thought occupied her mind—a yearning to understand the connection that seemed to bind her to the armored enigma behind them.

As they continued down the passageway, Dr. Whitehall led the way, his steps quick and determined. Pietro dragged Wanda along, his pace a bit uneven as he cast wary glances between her and their surroundings.

Wanda's steps began to slow, her eyes still fixed on the path behind them. The pull she felt was almost magnetic, like a tether trying to draw her back.

She tried to shake off the feeling, but it was becoming harder and harder to resist.

Every fiber of her being seemed attuned to the presence behind them, the presence that had ignited a spark of recognition within her. The scarlet glow in her eyes flickered, its intensity varying in sync with the fluctuations of her emotions.

Dr. Whitehall led them through a labyrinthine maze of corridors and chambers, his steps quick and purposeful. The alarms and tremors continued to reverberate through the facility, creating an atmosphere of chaos and urgency.

As they reached another intersection in the facility's labyrinthine corridors, they came upon a large reinforced cage situated along the side of the passageway that was blocked by a steel grate.

Beyond the bars, the cage seemed to hold nothing but an impenetrable darkness. Though the space beyond the iron grates appeared empty and dark, a chilling ripple passed through the air as a low growl sounded from deep within the shadows.

The growl echoed off the concrete walls as the cage began to rattle ominously.

Dr. Whitehall paid the cage no mind, his attention consumed by their escape. He continued to lead them through the labyrinth of passages, the alarms, and tremors serving as a constant reminder of the approaching threat.

But just as they rounded another corner, the echoing alarms abruptly ceased, plunging them into an eerie silence. The corridor ahead was dimly lit, and the air seemed to thicken with tension.

Dr. Whitehall's steps faltered, his gaze darting around the corridor in confusion. The abrupt stillness was disconcerting, a stark contrast to the chaos that had surrounded them moments ago.

"Something's not right," he muttered to himself, his voice laced with unease.

Pietro's grip on Wanda tightened as he scanned their surroundings, his senses on high alert. He could feel the tension in the air, a sense of foreboding that raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

Wanda's eyes remained fixed on the path behind them, the pull growing stronger with each passing second. Her scarlet gaze flickered, the intensity of her emotions oscillating between uncertainty and recognition.

And then, without warning, a loud boom reverberated through the corridor behind them. The sound was deafening, echoing off the walls and sending vibrations through the floor.

All the lights in the chamber suddenly went out, plunging them into complete darkness. The abrupt change was disorienting, a stark shift from the dimly lit corridors they had just been navigating.

Dr. Whitehall's panic was palpable as he fumbled for a flashlight, his hands shaking as he struggled to regain his bearings. "Keep moving!" he shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.

He turned back toward the path they had been following, determined to reach the emergency evacuation hatch that would lead them out to the bottom of the mountain.

But as he took a step forward, he suddenly froze as a sense of dread and despair abruptly invaded his mind.

Looking for the source of the pressure, Dr. Whithall turned around to the path they had come from and noticed a pair of glowing crimson eyes staring back at him from the darkness, their eerie radiance cutting through the pitch-black surroundings.

The eyes were unwavering, fixed on him with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine.

Fear clawed at Dr. Whitehall's chest, his heart racing as he stumbled back a few paces. The dim light of his flashlight illuminated only a fraction of the corridor, casting long shadows that seemed to dance around the mysterious figure behind them.

Pietro's grip on Wanda's bonds tightened even further, his own anxiety escalating as he turned to face the enigmatic presence.

Wanda's gaze shifted from the corridor ahead to the darkness behind them. The pull that had been tugging at her senses now intensified, drawing her attention to the figure with the glowing crimson eyes.

The darkness seemed to cling to the figure, cloaking him in an aura of mystery and danger. Wanda's scarlet eyes shimmered as she felt a strange sense of recognition, a connection that defied explanation.

The crimson eyes grew closer with each passing moment before a frightening skeletal visage seemed to materialize out of the shadows.

The figure strolled forward, his armored form and glowing eyes casting an eerie glow around him. The darkness seemed to bend and ripple around his presence, creating an aura of otherworldly power.

Dr. Whitehall's panic escalated, and he frantically waved the flashlight in the direction of the figure, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"Who...who are you!? What do you want?!" he demanded, his attempts at bravado failing as fear crept into his voice.

The armored figure continued his advance, his footsteps deliberate and unhurried. His modulated voice, still carrying that same chilling relaxed cadence, cut through the darkness like a blade.

"I am death," he intoned, his words dripping with a macabre sense of finality. "And I've come to collect what I'm owed."

********

A/n: Hey guys, I hope you are enjoying the story so far, and as always, thanks for reading!

If you like my work and want to support it, check out my P.A.T.R.E.O.N: /Swarthy, where you can read early chapters or P.A.Y.P.A.L.me: /xSwarthyx anything is appreciated.

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