The night air hung heavy as the Essex mercenaries laid the Wolverine clone—X-24—on the damp ground. His limp body still oozed blood from wounds that, even now, were slowly knitting themselves shut.
Dr. Les, the man overseeing Essex's mutant enhancement program, stood over the clone. His long white coat barely fluttered in the still night.
But he didn't inject the serum.
Donald, the cyber-augmented field leader, frowned and asked, "Aren't you going to give him the mutant serum now?"
Les calmly responded, "No. Not yet. It's best if he's conscious first. The serum will be more effective when his body is aware and active—it'll synchronize better with his cells."
Donald grunted and stepped back. "Fine. We've got Caliban. There's no way Logan and the girl can outrun us for long."
The team settled in to wait.
Meanwhile, hidden in a dense thicket nearby, Nathan lay absolutely still, barely breathing. His body was being savaged by mosquitoes. They buzzed in his ears, landed on his neck, and dug into his skin.
The Essex soldiers swatted and cursed.
"Damn it! These mosquitoes are eating me alive!"
"Why the hell are they only biting me?!"
"Should've brought bug spray—this is torture!"
But Nathan didn't move. Not a twitch. Not a breath more than needed.
He endured it all—the itch, the heat, the noise. His super soldier training and unshakable will kept him still as stone.
Time dragged on, the sky shifting from pitch black to a subtle pre-dawn gray. Tension was thick. Then it happened.
The clone's eyes snapped open.
"Doctor! X-24 is awake!" a mercenary called.
To Nathan, the voice was like a symphony. His moment had come.
Dr. Les hurried over, excitement flashing in his eyes. He pulled out the serum vial from its case and prepped the injection.
"Easy now," he muttered to the clone. "This will make you stronger. Heal you faster. Regrow everything."
He pressed the needle into X-24's neck and emptied the glowing green liquid into his bloodstream.
"There," Les said with satisfaction. "Now the real weapon awakens."
Nathan's heart pounded as he saw the injection complete.
"It begins."
He pulled a black scarf from his pocket and wrapped it around the lower half of his face. A dark hood came next, pulled low to shadow his features.
He assessed the surroundings. He memorized the positions of the guards, the spacing between trees, the vehicles' angles—everything.
Then he moved.
BOOM!
Nathan launched out of the brush like a missile, shield drawn from his back, charging straight toward the clone.
"WHO THE HELL?!"
"INTRUDER! SHOOT HIM!"
Les turned, eyes wide. "He's going for X-24! Stop him! NOW!"
Donald's instincts flared. This wasn't some fool with a grudge—this guy was fast. Too fast.
"FIRE! LAY DOWN COVER FIRE! SHOOT HIM!"
Bullets tore through the air.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Nathan raised his shield—bullets sparked harmlessly off the Vibranium surface. He zigzagged through the undergrowth, gauging each movement down to the millisecond.
He reached a large oak, slammed behind it, and in the same instant, ran calculations in his mind:
Mercenary One: three o'clock, 10 feet away.
Mercenary Two: 30 degrees left, behind SUV.
Ricochet angle: 17 degrees.
Required force: 60 psi.
Flight time: 0.6 seconds.
His arm surged with power.
WHOOSH!
The shield flew.
It sliced through the wrist of the nearest mercenary, then ricocheted off a car door—CRANG!—and flew into another soldier's neck. Blood sprayed.
The shield didn't stop. It bounced again, hitting a metal post and amputated another soldier's arm mid-aim.
In less than three seconds, three men were down.
As the shield completed its final bounce, Nathan caught it clean out of the air, barely breaking stride.
He resumed his sprint, covering the last dozen meters with brutal speed.
"KILL HIM!" Donald roared, opening fire himself.
Nathan barely flinched.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
More sparks. The shield blocked it all. His body armor absorbed stray hits to his chest and side. His legs—thin targets, moving too fast—remained untouched.
Two more mercenaries rushed him with electric batons.
He smashed through them with the shield like a battering ram.
They flew backward, unconscious before they hit the ground.
And then, Nathan stood before the clone.
Their eyes locked.
X-24 blinked—clearly still dazed from the serum.
Nathan grinned beneath his scarf.
"You're mine."
He grabbed the clone and slung him over his shoulder, using X-24's body like a human shield.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
The clone grunted as more bullets struck him. Blood dripped from his mouth. But his healing factor kicked in fast.
"What... what the hell is he doing?!"
Even Les looked baffled. Donald stared in disbelief.
Nathan didn't care.
He broke into a sprint again, barreling through the chaos like a juggernaut. As he moved, he flung his shield with calculated precision—CRACK! THUD! SLICE!—clearing another group of shooters.
Mercenaries dropped like dominoes.
Screaming. Scrambling. Reloading.
Too late.
Donald's eyes narrowed as he watched the shield's arc, then snapped back to Nathan's movement.
The speed. The shield. The precision.
Realization slammed into him.
"That technique... that style... that face under the hood...!"
Donald snarled: "It's you... YOU DAMN BASTARD—CAPTAIN AMERICA?!"
The name cut through the chaos.
"No way! He's dead!"
"Steve Rogers disappeared!"
"That guy's too young!"
Les didn't believe it either—but he couldn't ignore what he saw.
"That movement... that shield... it's the same! It's Rogers' style!"
Donald's fury boiled over.
"I DON'T CARE WHO HE IS! KILL HIM!"
More guns. More chaos.
But Nathan was gone, disappearing into the woods with the clone over his shoulder.
The mercenaries surged forward, but they were too late. The forest swallowed Nathan whole.
Les gritted his teeth, watching the last leaves settle.
"He took our prototype," he growled.
"We just lost X-24."
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