章節 60: chapter 60
Who is Baron Zemo?
The origins of Baron Zemo trace back to Heinrich Zemo, the first of his lineage, active during World War II. A favorite of the Nazis, Heinrich's family was deeply tied to Hydra and the Third Reich, a relationship cemented over twelve generations.
To be fair, Heinrich wasn't initially interested in clashing with Captain America. He was a scientist and a hereditary nobleman. Engaging in physical combat was beneath his status and an insult to his family's noble traditions.
However, in the 1940s, Nick Fury and the Howling Commandos infiltrated Zemo's stronghold, destroying the massive cannon he had been developing. The attack forced Zemo and his family into hiding, making him a global fugitive.
To obscure his identity, Heinrich donned a purple mask with angular features resembling Thanos' chin. During a later confrontation with Captain America in his lab, Zemo accidentally came into contact with Adhesive X, a powerful substance he had developed. The mask became permanently fused to his face, leaving him disfigured.
Fueled by rage, Heinrich vowed revenge. Tragically, Captain America went into cryogenic stasis not long after, depriving Zemo of his vengeance. After World War II, Heinrich fled to South America, where he built a small kingdom for himself.
Years later, upon hearing of Captain America's revival, Heinrich launched a full-scale assault but was ultimately killed by his own advanced weaponry.
Helmut Zemo, Heinrich's son, would go on to outshine his father. In this universe, Helmut masterminded the Red Skull's takeover during the day the heroes fell. By switching each villain's target to a different hero, he exploited weaknesses discovered in files stored at Avengers Mansion. The plan, eerily similar to DC's "Tower of Babel" scenario, proved devastatingly effective.
Unlike the more ambitious villains, Helmut only claimed a small section of Canadian territory for himself, a move that pleased the Red Skull. It was a stark contrast to others like Magneto and Osborn, who demanded entire U.S. states.
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A Journey Across the Wasteland
A battered Jeep tore across the desert, its wheels carving deep tracks in the sand. The sunlight blazed mercilessly, reflecting off the vehicle's surface. Frank was behind the wheel, while Adrian sat in the passenger seat, his eyes closed in thought.
Their destination was North Dakota, far from the chaos of the southern wastelands.
Pietro—now referred to as Songbird—peered curiously out of the backseat, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains. Wanda sat beside him, her expression contemplative.
As they approached a familiar landmark, the infamous Mount Rushmore came into view. Yet, it wasn't the historical carving they remembered—one of the faces now bore a skeletal design, newly etched onto the mountain.
Songbird leaned closer to Wanda, whispering, "Did you notice the noise earlier? It sounded like motorcycles."
Adrian suddenly opened his eyes, his hand instinctively reaching for the gun at his waist. "I hear it too," he said, scanning the horizon.
Frank immediately stepped on the gas, steering the Jeep toward the cover of a nearby mountain slope. They parked in the shadow of the ridge, using the terrain to mask their presence.
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The Ghost Riders of the Wasteland
Emerging over the dunes, a gang of motorcyclists sped toward them. These weren't ordinary riders. Clad in tattered leather and with skull designs painted on their faces, they looked like demons risen from the sand. Most striking of all were their motorcycles—flaming tires left trails of fire in their wake, their engines roaring like beasts.
The riders wielded chains that glinted in the sunlight, their sharp spikes whistling ominously as they twirled through the air.
Songbird squinted at the approaching gang and muttered, "What is this, some kind of Ghost Rider cosplay?"
Frank smirked, lifting his rifle. "They forgot to add flames to their heads," he quipped.
Adrian shrugged. "This is the Evil Spirit Gang," he said. "One of the more prominent factions out here. Alongside the Hulk Gang, Punishment Gang, and a few others, they rule these wastelands."
The gang didn't give them time for further conversation, charging forward with a deafening roar.
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A Fierce Battle
Frank took the lead, opening fire from the Jeep. His shots were precise, taking out several riders with ease. Adrian joined in, his steady aim felling more as motorcycles crashed into the sand, their fiery tires extinguished.
Wanda raised her hands, her powers flaring as she seized two motorcycles mid-air. The riders screamed in terror as the bikes were hurled violently to the ground, shattering into pieces.
As the dust settled, only a few gang members remained. One, bloodied and battered, struggled to sit up. He spat out a tooth and glared at the group. "Who sent you? Was it the Madrox Gang?!" he demanded hoarsely.
Songbird clicked his tongue and muttered, "Some big gang."
Adrian stepped forward, gun in hand, and smirked. "If you know what's good for you, you'll tell us everything about your operation. Otherwise, you'll end up like the rest of your friends."
🛡️Ronin 🛡️
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