Inside the Triskelion, the atmosphere had become unbearably tense. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Hydra operatives found themselves in impossible standoffs throughout the facility, unable to distinguish friend from foe. The Ghost Squad's invisible assault had shattered all trust—anyone could be an enemy, anyone could be the next target.
"Listen up, everyone!" Agent Stevens called out from behind an overturned desk, his voice echoing through the main corridor. "For our own safety, I'm proposing an immediate ceasefire. Everyone stays in their current positions until we can identify the infiltrators!"
The suggestion was met with immediate relief from both legitimate agents and hidden Hydra operatives. The psychological warfare had been devastating—hours of constant vigilance, jumping at every shadow, wondering if the person next to you was about to put a bullet in your back.
"Agreed!" someone shouted from across the room.
"Nobody moves until we sort this out!"
"Anyone who breaks position gets shot by everyone else!"
Voices echoed throughout the building as the impromptu truce took hold. Both sides were exhausted, paranoid, and desperate for any solution that didn't involve more bloodshed in dark corridors.
BOOM.
CRASH.
The massive explosion at the main entrance shattered the fragile peace instantly. Glass rained down from shattered windows as everyone scrambled for their weapons, aiming toward the source of the disturbance.
"Well, well," Marcus's voice drifted through the smoke and debris as he stepped through the ruined entrance. "Looks like you're all having a party."
Nightmare energy erupted from his position like an invisible tsunami, washing over every person in the facility.
"Time for everyone to take a little nap," Marcus said with casual cheerfulness. "Don't worry—when you wake up, all your problems will be solved."
The effect was immediate and absolute. Throughout the Triskelion, agents collapsed where they stood, their weapons clattering to the floor as they fell into deep, unnatural sleep. Some slumped against walls, others crumpled behind cover, all of them defenseless within seconds.
But as the nightmare power took hold, something unexpected happened. Several of the "sleeping" agents began shifting, their human appearances melting away to reveal green-skinned Skrull features underneath.
"Fury's Ghost Squad," Marcus observed with appreciation. "Very clever—using shapeshifters to infiltrate both sides of the conflict. No wonder the Hydra operatives couldn't figure out where the attacks were coming from."
The Skrull operatives had been living among S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel for months, studying their targets, learning their routines, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It was an elegant solution to the problem of identifying hidden Hydra cells, though Marcus's intervention had rendered their careful planning moot.
"Now for the fun part," Marcus said, raising his hand and gently manipulating the dream energy surrounding the unconscious figures.
The nightmare empowerment didn't just induce sleep—it granted him complete access to the subconscious minds of his victims. Within moments, everyone's deepest fears and hidden secrets began manifesting in their dreams, creating a perfect psychological interrogation system.
"Oh, this is rich," Marcus chuckled, observing one particular Hydra operative's nightmare. "This guy's terrified of mice. The big bad Nazi soldier is afraid of tiny rodents."
The man was indeed trembling in his induced dream as phantom mice swarmed around him, squeaking and chittering as they climbed over his paralyzed body. Marcus raised the Attica crossbow and put the poor bastard out of his misery with a single shot.
BOOM.
The enhanced bolt exploded on impact, the dual fire and frost damage creating a spectacular detonation that left very little of the target intact.
"Messy, but effective," Marcus noted, then moved on to examine another sleeper.
This one was a legitimate S.H.I.E.L.D. agent whose dreams were filled with grotesque horror movie imagery—faces growing out of walls, tentacled creatures emerging from shadows, the usual psychological residue of someone who'd watched too many B-grade monster films.
"Poor guy's probably been having nightmares for years," Marcus said sympathetically, then waved his hand to transform the agent's dream. The monsters dissolved away, replaced by peaceful meadows filled with butterflies and singing birds.
Marcus moved systematically through the facility, using the dream-reading capability to instantly identify Hydra operatives and eliminate them with precision shots. The enhanced crossbow Attica proved devastatingly effective, each bolt delivering enough explosive force to ensure there would be no survivors or wounded prisoners to interrogate later.
By the time he reached the facility's upper levels, Marcus had exhausted Attica's ammunition supply.
"Out of arrows," he said, examining the weapon with mild disappointment. "Time to switch to the backup plan."
He retrieved another Riven Crystal from his collection and examined its enhancement profile.
[Vectis +250% Base Damage +114.6% Critical Damage +79.2% Status Chance +90.8% Fire Rate +103.5% Electric Damage -47.6% Magazine Capacity]
The Vectis was a unique sniper rifle—renowned for its single, devastating shot and lightning-fast reload that let skilled marksmen chain kills with surgical precision. The Riven Crystal's enhancements pushed its raw power even further, amplifying damage and critical impact to absurd levels, with only a slight drawback to its fire rate.
Marcus fused the crystal with the weapon, watching as purple energy coursed through its structure and transformed its appearance into something that looked capable of firing miniature lightning bolts.
"Perfect," he said, raising the enhanced rifle toward a sleeping Hydra operative in tactical gear. "Let's see what 250% base damage feels like."
BANG.
The shot punched through the target's skull with such force that electricity arced across the corpse for several seconds afterward. True to its design, the Vectis immediately recharged itself, ready for the next shot.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Marcus moved through the facility with methodical efficiency, each shot perfectly placed, each target eliminated without hesitation. The rhythmic gunfire echoed through the Triskelion like a Vectis for the entire Hydra cell.
"The nightmare power is even more versatile than I expected," Marcus reflected as he finished clearing the main levels. "Dream invasion opens up some very interesting tactical possibilities."
But he wasn't finished testing his new abilities yet. With a snap of his fingers, Marcus's physical form began to fade as he shifted into the dream realm itself.
For most people, dreams were abstract experiences, disconnected from reality. For Marcus, empowered by nightmare energy, dreams were as solid and navigable as physical space. He could enter any sleeper's subconscious and interact with their deepest psychological constructs.
He materialized inside the dream of a Hydra lieutenant, finding himself in a twisted version of reality where the Nazi organization had achieved total global domination. In this fantasy world, the dreamer was a supreme leader who commanded vast armies and had eliminated all opposition to Hydra's vision of perfect order.
"Quite the ego on this one," Marcus observed, watching the dream-version of the operative stand on a balcony overlooking a world covered in Hydra symbols. "He's got himself convinced he's destined to rule the planet."
In the dreamer's imagination, superheroes were extinct, democracy was abolished, and every nation flew the octopus banner of Hydra. It was a megalomaniac's paradise, built on the foundation of absolute power and the elimination of all dissent.
"Time to wake him up to reality," Marcus said with dark amusement, then began systematically dismantling the fantasy world around the sleeping operative.