Capítulo 51: Stryker
Niklaus entered Stryker's headquarters with little fanfare, the air thick with the scent of dust and damp wood.
The place was a hideout more than anything — poorly lit and barely maintained, with Stryker's fanatics milling about, their eyes betraying a mix of fear and reverence at his arrival.
He noted the way they clutched their holy symbols, as if they thought God might actually protect them from what was coming.
Stryker stood at the center of the room, arms spread wide in a mockery of a welcoming gesture, his face glowing with fervor. "Mr. Vought!" he called, his voice filled with that same zealous excitement. "You honor us with your presence."
Niklaus gave a slow nod, his eyes scanning the room. "Stryker," he greeted, his tone clipped but cordial. "I figured it was time to see what you and your little group are all about. Enlighten me."
Stryker beamed, oblivious to the cold detachment in Niklaus's voice. "We are fighting the abominations, the mutants who plague this earth with their existence. And we believe, with your help, we can end this war once and for all."
Niklaus pretended to listen, leaning back against a wall.
As Stryker droned on about God's plan, divine righteousness, and the evils of mutants, Niklaus's mind was elsewhere.
He had been patient enough, but now, as he glanced around at the pitiful excuses for "Humans" surrounding Stryker, he knew this was a waste of time.
These men were nothing.
Stryker continued, his voice rising with passion. "We have contacts the facility, the one where they make the X-predators. With your monetary backing, we can—"
Niklaus moved without warning, stepping forward and grabbing Stryker by the throat.
The entire room froze, fanatics standing still as statues, their eyes wide in shock.
Stryker's hands clawed at Niklaus's arm, but the strength in his grip was unyielding.
His voice faltered into a strangled gasp.
"Stryker," Niklaus said, his tone now dark and impatient, "you've talked enough."
Without hesitation, Niklaus drove his finger into Stryker's forehead, piercing through skin, bone, and brain with effortless precision.
Stryker's eyes widened in horror, but he was already too far gone to react.
Niklaus's finger crackled with energy as it burrowed deeper into Stryker's skull, connecting with his mind.
Niklaus didn't need his words. He needed his knowledge.
In an instant, memories and information flooded into Niklaus's consciousness. Every piece of intel Stryker had gathered, every secret hideout, every contact, and, most importantly, every detail of the facility came rushing into his mind.
Stryker's life drained rapidly, his body convulsing as Niklaus absorbed every useful scrap of knowledge.
The fanatics stood frozen in fear, unable to comprehend the brutality of what they were witnessing.
Stryker's body fell limp, his eyes blank, as Niklaus pulled his finger free, blood trailing down Stryker's face.
Niklaus stood over Stryker's lifeless body, his finger still dripping with the man's blood as he surveyed the now-terrified fanatics around him.
They froze in place, eyes wide, not daring to move until Niklaus spoke again.
"Your leader is dead," he said, his voice calm and icy. "You have no purpose now."
The room fell into a suffocating silence, but his next words cut through it like a knife.
His eyes turned bright red as a smile graced his face.
"Run. If you want to live."
Without hesitation, the fanatics bolted for the exits, stumbling over each other in their desperation to escape.
Niklaus didn't even spare them a second glance.
He knew what awaited them outside.
Ashley was already in position, stationed just beyond the door, her expression cold and calculating.
She had been prepped long before he'd even walked in.
Every one of Stryker's followers was marked, and Ashley wasn't going to let a single one leave alive.
Niklaus wiped the blood from his finger with a cloth, tossing it aside carelessly.
He looked around at the "Church" and couldn't help but note the typical signs of a self absorbed cult, making murals to describing their leader as if he was some sort of godsend.
In his eyes Stryker was nothing but an illogical peice of human waste that should've never existed if darwin was right.
As the last of the group fled into the night, a quiet smile played at his lips.
He could already imagine the sounds of Ashley's meticulous work beginning.
The faint cracks of gunfire echoed from the street, precise and swift, followed by dull thuds as bodies hit the ground one by one.
Ashley worked like an artist, each shot executed with efficiency in using her enhanced magma powers.
Niklaus stepped outside into the cold night air, the ground littered with burnt blood and bodies.
He walked toward Ashley, who stood a short distance away, her special gun still smoking as she glanced over the carnage she had wrought.
Not a single fanatic had made it more than a few steps outside the building.
"Clean work," Niklaus remarked casually, his eyes scanning the scene.
Ashley turned to face him, holstering her weapon with a small smirk. "Thank you, Master. Just making sure there's nothing left to worry about."
Niklaus nodded, satisfied. "Good. Stryker and his little group of fanatics were never worth much, but the information was useful."
Ashley stepped closer, her face flushed with a mix of adrenaline and satisfaction. "What's the next move?"
Niklaus looked down the empty street, the weight of his next goal heavy in his mind. "We move on to the facility. Now that I know where it is, it won't be long before they're finished too."
Ashley smiled, pleased. "I'll be ready."
With that, Niklaus glanced back at the lifeless bodies scattered around the building, feeling nothing but disdain for the failures Stryker had gathered.
Without another word, the two of them left the scene behind, the night settling back into a heavy, eerie quiet.
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