Hydra never expected Spider-Man to crack the Strucker Castle anomaly.
The medieval fortress hadn't even been marked on the original World War II deployment maps. Theoretically, if an invading force wanted to dismantle that specific Hydra defensive grid, Strucker Castle was the precise tactical linchpin to strike.
Historically, the Soviet Army had done exactly that. Backed by Allied intelligence, the Soviets breached the castle and repurposed it as a logistical hub. Later, it became a heavily fortified KGB stronghold. Decades passed. Generations of Russian intelligence officers walked those stone halls. None of them ever realized a sprawling, subterranean city existed directly beneath their boots.
The Soviets didn't believe in gods. They never bothered sweeping the catacombs for mystical barriers or Elder God idols. When the Soviet Union collapsed, the old KGB archives were buried in bureaucratic red tape. Hydra assumed modern Russia lacked the resources to sift through the dusty files, let alone wage a shadow war.
They never anticipated Kraven the Hunter handing those exact files directly to S.H.I.E.L.D.
"Target acquired."
Silvija's voice cracked over the comms, cold and perfectly level. She stood at the edge of the tree line, her tactical rifle resting against her shoulder. "Assault teams, deploy the breach drones. The second they return fire, saturate the fortress with rockets."
She didn't blink. "Take no prisoners. Every soul in that castle belongs to Hydra. Burn them all."
The Wild Pack moved with lethal efficiency. Gunfire erupted across the courtyard. Heavy assault helicopters breached the cloud cover, unleashing a devastating barrage of incendiary rockets. The medieval stone crumbled. Turrets collapsed. Once the surface structure was reduced to a smoking crater, the choppers hovered over the wreckage, dumping coolant foam into the ruins to extinguish the fires.
Silvija strapped a thruster pack to her tactical harness. She marched to the edge of the exposed, bottomless elevator shaft. Three hundred Wild Pack mercenaries stacked up behind her, securing zip-lines. They didn't have time to vet the squad for Hydra moles. Cindy Moon had already descended into the abyss to scout the drop.
Silvija glanced sideways. Felicia Hardy stood at the edge of the drop, securing the straps on her own jetpack.
"You aren't a frontline combatant," Silvija stated flatly.
"I have my own business down there," Felicia said. She checked the seal on her gloves. "I have a debt to collect."
"You don't even know the name of the Hydra agent who murdered your father."
Felicia's jaw tightened. She didn't argue. She didn't need a name. She was fully prepared to kill every single fascist in the catacombs until she found the right one.
Deep in the cavern, the Avengers tore through the Hydra infantry.
It wasn't a battle. It was an overwhelming, systematic dismantling. Highly trained terrorists meant absolutely nothing against a thunder god and a gamma-irradiated rage monster.
Steve Rogers vaulted over a marble barricade. His vibranium shield slammed into three Hydra troopers, ricocheting perfectly back into his waiting glove.
"Thor!" Steve barked over the comms. "Clear a path for Tony and Pym! Get them to the central command hub! We have to sever that self-destruct protocol before they sink Budapest!"
Steve locked eyes with Baron Strucker retreating toward the temple exit.
"The rest of you, engage at will!" Steve ordered, breaking into a full sprint. "Cover Stark and Pym!"
Strucker slipped out the bronze doors. He vaulted into the driver's seat of an armored hovercar and punched the accelerator. The repulsor engines whined. He glanced at the rearview mirror, his scarred lips curling into a sneer.
Steve didn't slow down. He pushed his Super Soldier physiology to the absolute limit, his boots cracking the marble floor. He lunged. He cleared the gap, slamming feet-first onto the trunk of the accelerating hovercar. His fingers dug into the metal chassis.
"I applaud your persistence, Captain," Strucker shouted over the rushing wind. He engaged the autopilot. He stood up in the open cockpit, slowly turning to face Steve.
The heavy, crimson metal of the Satan Claw gleamed on his right arm.
"But crossing that threshold sealed your fate. This entire city is a mousetrap. You dug your own grave the moment S.H.I.E.L.D. started investigating us. I assure you, neither Stark nor Pym possesses the intellect to crack our encryption before the blast."
"I trust my team," Steve growled, pulling himself upright.
Steve threw a devastating right hook. Strucker ducked. The fist sliced empty air.
"You are remarkably obsolete, Rogers," Strucker laughed. "Do you genuinely believe executing me stops the gears? You equate us with the Third Reich. You think we shatter without the Red Skull to guide us."
Strucker raised the Satan Claw. "Hydra is not a man. It is an immutable ideology. We hold the absolute truth of this universe. Free will breeds nothing but rot and chaos. Yet you persist in defending it."
"It proves the war didn't end in the ice," Steve snapped. He vaulted off the trunk. He drove a brutal kick directly into Strucker's sternum. "And you're the reason!"
Strucker crashed into the leather seats. He spat blood, his grin never faltering. "Fate has a sense of humor. Captain America fighting his old comrades. Bucky Barnes. Jim Hammond. Tell me, does it hurt?"
Steve surged forward. Both of his hands clamped around Strucker's throat. "What did you do to them?!"
"We taught them that order supersedes freedom," Strucker choked out.
Strucker's cybernetic hand shot up. The Satan Claw clamped agonizingly around Steve's throat.
Steve gritted his teeth, bearing down. He vastly overpowered the aging Baron. But the Satan Claw whirred. Sickly red energy pulsed along the metal joints. A sudden, terrifying wave of exhaustion slammed into Steve's chest. His vision blurred. The gauntlet wasn't just crushing his windpipe. It was aggressively siphoning his life force.
"Your humanity is a terminal weakness, Captain," Strucker whispered, his wrinkles smoothing out as he drained the vitality from Steve's veins. "You let the ghosts of your past blind you. Now, Erskine's serum belongs to me."
Steve didn't waste breath arguing. He pivoted his hips. He channeled every remaining ounce of strength into a brutal uppercut, launching Strucker completely out of the hovercar.
Strucker hit the concrete pavement, tumbling violently. He scrambled to his feet, his muscles bulging with stolen youth.
Steve hit the ground in a roll. He whipped the vibranium shield.
The disc sliced cleanly through the air. It sheared through metal, bone, and wiring, instantly severing the Satan Claw at the elbow.
The stolen energy vanished. Strucker collapsed, instantly and rapidly aging back into a frail, withered old man. He clutched his bleeding stump, screaming in agony.
Steve walked over. He picked up his shield, his breathing ragged but steady. He looked down at the architect of Hydra.
"I'm not engaging in a philosophical debate, Strucker," Steve said, his voice cold as ice. "I'm just making sure you don't scurry back into the shadows like the Skull did. This isn't a superhero vigilante op. This is pest control."
Steve secured the shield to his gauntlet. "Fascists don't get to invoke human rights."