Within minutes, the foundry had completed crafting a pair of elegant war fans, their metallic surfaces gleaming with a mirror-like finish. Marcus picked up one of the weapons and examined its construction—traditional folding fan design, but with sharpened metal ribs that could slice through flesh as easily as paper.
"Let's see if this Riven Crystal can make up for the weapon's inherent limitations," Marcus muttered, holding the purple crystal up to catch the light.
He channeled void energy through his fingers, watching as the Riven Crystal dissolved into pure luminescent energy that flowed into the war fan like liquid starlight. Unlike the gentle integration process he'd experienced with standard enhancement crystals, the Riven Crystal's fusion was immediately dramatic.
Purple energy erupted across the weapon's surface, transforming its appearance completely. The originally silver-white metal now pulsed with an inner violet radiance that seemed to shift and move like trapped lightning. The fan itself began emanating subtle vibrations that seemed to resonate with something deep in Marcus's consciousness, as if the weapon were calling out to be used.
"Not bad," Marcus admitted, hefting the enhanced war fan to test its balance. "Definitely looks more impressive than I expected."
He took a combat stance and began testing the weapon's capabilities with a series of practiced movements. The moment he started the first technique, invisible force blades erupted from the fan's edges, extending its effective range by several feet in all directions.
Swish, swish.
Marcus spun through a complex kata, the war fans moving so quickly they became purple blurs in the air. As his attack speed increased exponentially—exactly as the Riven Crystal's enhancement had promised—he began channeling void energy directly into the weapons.
BUZZ.
The fans suddenly blazed with power, their destructive potential skyrocketing as void energy merged with the Riven enhancement. Each swing of the weapons now generated compressed air blades sharp enough to slice through steel, and the fans themselves were moving fast enough to create miniature sonic booms.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The training sequence quickly got out of hand as Marcus fully embraced the enhanced weapons' capabilities. Furniture disintegrated under the assault of invisible cutting forces. The reinforced walls of his workshop showed deep gouges where air blades had carved through them. Even the steel support beams were marked with precise cuts that went halfway through their thickness.
"Well," Marcus said, surveying the destruction with satisfaction, "they're definitely effective. Unusual weapon choice aside, these fans pack serious firepower."
Despite his initial skepticism about the randomized weapon type, he had to admit the Riven Crystal's enhancements had transformed what should have been an ornamental weapon into something genuinely formidable. The attack speed bonus alone made the fans almost too fast to follow visually, and the range extension meant he could engage multiple enemies simultaneously.
After storing the war fans in his dimensional pocket, Marcus returned to the foundry to begin another Riven Crystal creation. The randomization factor was frustrating, but the potential benefits were too significant to ignore. If he could produce enough crystals, eventually he'd get enhancements for weapons and equipment he actually wanted to use.
"The law of large numbers has to work in my favor eventually," he reasoned, beginning the complex process of loading raw materials into the foundry.
While the next Riven Crystal began taking shape, Marcus turned his attention to an even more ambitious project—creating his first Final Empowerment. Unlike the simple empowerment cores he'd been making from dimensional artifacts, Final Empowerments required personal crafting rather than automated processes.
The core he selected for his first attempt came from one of the more interesting dimensional demons he'd encountered during the battlefield conflict. The creature had originated from what the Ancient One called the "Twisted Dream" dimension, and its primary ability had been absorbing and redirecting attacks back at their source.
"This nightmare entity was clever," Marcus mused as he began the delicate process of extracting power from the artifact. "It was the only dimensional demon that managed to escape my initial assault by sacrificing part of itself to absorb the damage."
The power extraction required absolute precision. Unlike the raw energy he'd been harvesting for simple empowerment cores, Final Empowerments demanded that he capture the essential nature of the ability itself—not just the energy that powered it, but the conceptual framework that made it function.
As Marcus worked with microscopic tools and void-enhanced concentration, he was unaware that hundreds of miles away, one of the most significant covert operations in modern history was beginning.
Deep within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Triskelion headquarters, Agent Maria Hill stood in the organization's secure communications center, holding a device that could change the balance of global power forever. The innocuous-looking data pad contained a complete roster of Hydra operatives who had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. over the past several decades.
The list was extensive and shocking—names that included high-ranking agents, department heads, and even former directors of the organization. Some of the people listed were individuals Hill had worked with for years, trusted colleagues she would never have suspected of divided loyalty.
"Agent Hill, confirm receipt of Operation Pest Control authorization," Director Fury's voice crackled through the secure channel.
"Authorization confirmed," Hill replied, her voice steady despite the magnitude of what she was about to set in motion. "Beginning implementation immediately."
She reached for a specialized communication device unlike anything in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s standard equipment. The earpiece was completely black and seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, giving it an unsettling appearance that matched its mysterious origin.
As Hill activated the device, a voice emerged that was so heavily processed it was impossible to determine gender, age, or even species.
"Ghost Squad reporting for orders, Commander. We await your instructions."
"Initiate Pest Control protocol," Hill commanded, her tone taking on the cold efficiency of someone who had made peace with necessary violence. "Eliminate all targets on the priority list. Clean sweep, no survivors."
"Acknowledged. Beginning elimination sequence."
The communication ended with an abrupt click, leaving Hill alone with her thoughts and the weight of what she'd just authorized. The Ghost Squad was Director Fury's most closely guarded secret—a black operations unit whose members, methods, and even existence were known only to a handful of people.
Hill herself knew almost nothing about them beyond their communication protocol. She didn't know how many operatives were in the unit, where they were recruited from, or what training they'd received. They existed as nothing more than voices in the darkness and results that spoke for themselves.
Bang, bang, bang.
Ratatatatata.
Gunfire suddenly erupted throughout the Triskelion, echoing from multiple floors simultaneously. Agents began falling in corridors throughout the building, some of them dying before they even realized they were under attack.
"What the hell is happening?" shouted Agent Johnson as he dove for cover behind an overturned desk. "Where are the hostiles? I can't get a visual on any shooters!"
Hill crouched behind a reinforced security barrier, watching as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents scrambled to respond to an attack they couldn't properly identify. The Ghost Squad was living up to its name—striking from positions that seemed impossible, eliminating targets with surgical precision while remaining completely invisible to conventional sensors.
"Ma'am, we've got casualties on every floor," reported Agent Martinez through the emergency communication system. "But we can't locate the source of hostile fire. It's like they're shooting from inside the walls."
Hill keyed her emergency command override. "All units, defensive positions only. Do not advance toward gunfire. Repeat, hold defensive positions and wait for visual confirmation of targets."
The irony wasn't lost on her that she was ordering S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to take defensive positions against an attack she had personally authorized. But the Ghost Squad's methods were beyond her control now—all she could do was try to minimize collateral damage and hope that Fury's mysterious operatives could distinguish between legitimate agents and Hydra infiltrators.
"Commander," the processed voice spoke directly into her earpiece, "Pest Control in progress. Recommend you maintain distance from marked personnel. Some insects may attempt to use human shields."
Hill's blood ran cold as she looked around at the agents taking cover near her position. According to the data on her tablet, at least three of them were confirmed Hydra operatives. The Ghost Squad would be coming for them soon, and anyone standing too close might become collateral damage.
"Understood," Hill whispered into her communicator. "Continuing to monitor situation."
As she quietly moved away from the group of agents, Hill couldn't help but wonder if Director Fury had considered all the consequences of unleashing phantoms within S.H.I.E.L.D.'s own headquarters. The organization might survive this purge, but it would never be the same.
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