Part 3: Ash Wakes Teeth
Location: Hydra Facility - Southern Germany
Time: Midnight
The flames hadn't finished eating the last corpse when the alarms screamed.
Hydra had other bunkers connected to the same alert system—somewhere else in the black veins of Europe, they had watched their comrades drop off the map one by one. This time, they were ready.
Riven felt it in the ground before the doors exploded open.
Boots. Orders barked in German. A mini-convoy of guards stormed the hallway, weapons raised, led by a man in a reinforced exo-suit, his metal boots crushing shattered glass beneath them.
Riven stood in the center of the hallway, blood drying across his jaw, shirt dark and ragged. He didn't flinch.
The man in the suit raised his voice. "Surrender, and you will not be harmed."
Riven tilted his head. Something about the tone—restrained, calm. Trained. He wasn't just a thug. He was command.
"You think I came here to talk?" Riven murmured. His voice was low. Steady.
The squad opened fire. Riven's body twisted with impossible speed, bullets missing their mark as his telekinetic aura flared. Two knives lifted from his belt, dancing around him like fangs.
He didn't block the bullets. He moved through them.
The first Hydra agent didn't even see the knife before it tore his windpipe out. The second got slammed into the ceiling with enough force to fold his spine backwards. Riven moved in bursts, like a ghost tethered to hatred. His feet didn't always touch the ground.
He didn't scream.
But the guards did.
The exo-suit commander tried to flank him—Riven pivoted mid-air, slammed down with enough raw power to crater the concrete beneath the man's knees. Armor cracked. The man gasped.
"Please—!"
Riven didn't finish him with a blade.
He grabbed the side of the helmet and crushed it.
Everything was quiet again, except for the flickering of fire down the hall and the dripping of blood.
Riven stood still.
His chest rose and fell.
Another bunker erased.