Bab 8: Chapter 7 : Long live Hydra!
The man slowly straightened up, his once-friendly face now transformed, filled with a sinister shadow, like a venomous snake poised to strike.
Ignoring his injured hands, he looked at Russell with cold, menacing eyes and hissed, "How did you figure out I wasn't him?"
Russell glanced at the man who looked like neither Captain America nor the Human Torch and laughed.
"Because you're too enthusiastic," he replied. "I may not know the Human Torch well, but he's definitely not as friendly as you've been."
Russell didn't mention the most telling clue. From Deadpool 3, he knew the Human Torch was a lone wolf — no teammates, no alliances. The stranger's goal was clear: lure him into the so-called base for a "feast," where he'd be the main course.
The man's expression soured. "I didn't want to play Thunderbolt in the first place. I just knew he looked like me. Seems it was a mistake."
Russell chuckled, intrigued. "And is your foul mouth a natural talent?"
The man sneered. "Swearing makes people lower their guard. Especially with time prisoners fresh from a cut, feeling lost and vulnerable."
Crafty guy, Russell thought. This Void was truly dangerous. After a pause, he smirked. "With that face, why not pretend to be Steve Rogers? I might've believed it."
At that, the man's expression twisted, his eyes glinting with malice. "I am Steve Rogers! Long live Hydra!"
Before Russell could react, the man pulled a large-caliber revolver from his waist and fired.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In less than a second, three bullets tore through Russell's forehead, heart, and lung, each shot clean, fast, and precise.
Steve Rogers blew the smoke from the barrel, sneering as Russell's body crumpled to the ground. "Friendly reminder: don't get cocky in the Void. Even if you can handle heat, only vigilance keeps you alive."
Holstering the gun, he tore a strip from his coat and began to bandage his burned hands, not showing an ounce of pain. It was clear his earlier scream had been just another act.
But then a voice shattered the silence: "Taught me a lesson just after arriving, huh? Well, here's one for you: never celebrate before you're sure your enemy's dead, Captain Hydra."
The voice hit Rogers like a shockwave. His eyes widened as he looked up, stunned, to see Russell sitting up, the bullet wounds on his body oozing molten magma. Whether it was melted bullets or his blood, Rogers couldn't tell.
The intense heat had shredded Russell's shirt, exposing his torso, veins pulsing with red-gold energy beneath his skin. His golden eyes glowed as the air around him warped with blistering heat. For a moment, Rogers thought he was staring at a demon from hell.
"What…what the hell are you?" Rogers stammered, instinctively retreating as he drew his revolver and fired three more shots.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The bullets struck Russell but only made him stagger — they couldn't even bring him down.
Russell grinned, revealing two rows of teeth gleaming with a cold, predatory edge. "Now… it's my turn."
This time, he wasn't playing nice. He intended to take Rogers alive.
Tapping into the power of the Extremis virus, Russell crouched low and sprang forward like a coiled viper.
Rogers had no time to reload. Years of battle experience told him running would mean certain death. His only chance was a head-on fight.
Abandoning his gun, he shouted, "Long live Hydra!" and charged.
As they closed in, Rogers grabbed Russell's left arm, attempting to pull him into an over-the-shoulder throw. But the plan backfired horribly. His hand felt like it was gripping molten steel.
He had severely underestimated the heat Russell could produce.
As his skin began to sizzle and burn, Rogers' grip failed. The pain was beyond what even a super-soldier could withstand — if he didn't let go, his hand would cook right through.
Russell seized the opening. Rogers had inadvertently turned his back while trying to grapple him, making himself vulnerable. Russell tightened his grip, pressed forward, and delivered a powerful punch to the back of Rogers' neck.
The Hydra Captain dropped unconscious with a single thud.
Russell didn't let down his guard. In an instant, his hands glowed brighter, and he used them like knives, swiftly severing both of Rogers' arms.
"That should keep you from pulling any more tricks," Russell muttered, staring down at the infamous Captain Hydra, now helpless before him.
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