"Shit… you're Allens?"
In the control room of HYDRA's cruise-ship laboratory, Daniel Whitehall stared at Allens, his face dark with shock.
The moment he saw the intruder's true face, he knew. HYDRA had already investigated this man—just as S.H.I.E.L.D. had after that infamous battle. They knew his name. They knew he was dangerous.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Whitehall."
Allens walked forward calmly, ignoring the pistol in Whitehall's hand.
"So, this is your plan," Whitehall sneered. "Cause chaos with your powers, then use the confusion to hunt me down. I'll admit—you're both clever and strong."
Despite his decades of life, Whitehall was still, at the core, just a fragile human. Weaker even than his own soldiers. It was why he was so desperate to unravel the secrets of the Obelisk.
"How about joining HYDRA?" Whitehall continued smoothly, hiding his fear behind a cold smile. "We can give you power, status, wealth, women—anything you desire. Join us, and I can guarantee your rise as HYDRA's next leader. Your future would be limitless."
As he spoke, Whitehall's hands were clasped behind his back. In truth, he was palming a small disc-shaped device from his belt—the prototype Split Bomb.
Click.
The device came alive with a sharp glow. Whitehall's voice grew lower, serpentine. "Imagine it, Allens—standing on top of the world, looking down at everything below. That power… it would feel wonderful. And finally—" his face twisted into a vicious grin—"you'll die."
With a sudden lunge, Whitehall slammed the bomb against Allens' chest.
Beep. Beep.
The Split Bomb activated. Stone-like corruption spread across Allens' body, turning flesh to dust. In seconds, he disintegrated, scattering across the control room floor like sand.
Whitehall brushed off his hands. "A pity. I thought you were smarter. But in the end, you were just another fool blinded by his own strength."
He exhaled, regaining his calm composure. "Marvelous device, isn't it?"
"Indeed, Mr. Whitehall."
The voice came from behind him. Familiar. Too familiar.
Whitehall froze, his blood running cold.
The "screen" of reality seemed to flicker in his eyes—and then shatter. The figure he had killed melted away, revealing not Allens at all… but his own adjutant, Agent Harrington, lifeless on the ground.
"You bastard!" Whitehall spun around, eyes wide with terror. "What the hell have you done?"
He fired his pistol again and again, but every bullet froze in the air before reaching Allens.
"Mr. Whitehall, wasn't deception your game?" Allens asked coldly, spreading his hands. "Consider this a taste of your own medicine."
With a gesture, Whitehall's body was yanked off the ground and pulled helplessly into Allens' grip. His hand closed around Whitehall's throat, lifting him effortlessly.
"The game," Allens said, his voice like ice, "is over."
Whitehall struggled, gasping for air. His fingers twitched toward the dagger in his boot—but the blade lifted of its own accord, pulled free by Allens' psychokinesis.
The dagger hovered, its point aimed directly at Whitehall's chest.
"You can't kill me," Whitehall rasped, panic consuming him. "Only I can unlock the secret of the Obelisk. Only I—"
Shhhk!
The blade plunged straight through his heart, silencing him mid-sentence. His body went limp.
Allens dropped him like discarded trash. "I don't need the Obelisk's secrets," he muttered coldly. "What I want… is the entire Inhuman race."
As Whitehall's corpse hit the floor, the illusions cloaking the cruise ship faded. Allens' body shimmered—and where he had stood, now the figure of Daniel Whitehall appeared, perfectly replicated down to the voice.
"Come out, my little flower. Miss Raina."
From the doorway, Raina stepped inside, her golden eyes glowing with excitement. The sly smile on her lips made her beauty almost predatory.
"Mr. Allens," she purred.
"No," Allens corrected, smirking. "From now on… call me Mr. Whitehall. I am the leader of HYDRA."
The surveillance cameras caught only Whitehall's face, his voice unchanged. Even HYDRA's own systems could not tell illusion from reality.
Raina lowered her head, giving a graceful HYDRA salute. "Hail HYDRA."
Allens—still wearing Whitehall's image—allowed himself a rare amused smile. For the first time in weeks, tension lifted from his shoulders.
"Now," he said, taking Whitehall's communicator, his voice perfectly mimicking the dead man's. "Stop all operations. Assemble on the deck for inspection."
The order rippled through the ship. Soldiers and scientists alike abandoned their posts, converging silently on the deck.
Allens turned to Raina, his eyes flashing. "Come, Agent Raina. Let's take command of HYDRA."
He stroked her cheek lightly, then strode out, cloak of illusion trailing behind him.
On the deck, hundreds of HYDRA soldiers stood in rigid silence. Their heads bowed as "Whitehall" approached, cold and commanding.
"Obey, and you will be rewarded. Donnie Gill is dead, eliminated by Agent Raina. This mission is complete. But… S.H.I.E.L.D. has infiltrated us. Now is the time to prove your loyalty."
He raised his hand.
"Hail HYDRA."
And they answered in unison, the serpent bowing before its new master.
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