Lucas immediately raised his hand, summoning a raging gust that solidified into a barrier of wind.
Bullets hammered into it like a torrential storm.
BOOM!
Suddenly, an electromagnetic shell slammed into the shield. The wind wall shattered instantly, the explosion catching Lucas completely off guard.
"Damn it!"
There was no time to rebuild the barrier. Lucas grabbed Wanda, wrapping her tightly in his arms to shield her as a surge of green energy erupted from his body, forming a thin protective layer.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A hail of bullets crashed into them. Lucas crouched low, clutching Wanda against his chest, using his body as her shield.
Thanks to his extraordinary regenerative ability, every bullet that tore into his flesh was squeezed out a moment later, the wounds closing almost as soon as they formed.
But the relentless rain of fire left him in agony—fresh wounds opening before the old ones could heal, his body trembling under the constant impact.
It was the first time since gaining his powers that Lucas had been injured so badly—and he couldn't even fight back. His healing was fast, yes, but Wanda didn't have the same advantage.
Wanda, however, didn't know that. She could only see him bleeding—bleeding for her—his body riddled with bullets as he shielded her from death.
Her heart clenched painfully. Her vision turned crimson.
The chaos energy inside her erupted.
"AHHHHHH!!!"
Her scream tore through the night. Red energy exploded outward like a hurricane, devouring everything in its path. Buildings, soldiers, tanks—everything disintegrated into dust and sand, scattered into nothingness.
In an instant, the entire area within a hundred meters of Lucas and Wanda had become a barren wasteland—clean, empty, and silent. Not a single trace of life or structure remained.
Wanda's eyes blazed like twin fires of crimson chaos. When she turned them toward Baron Strucker and the remaining soldiers, the air itself seemed to twist.
But Strucker's eyes were alight with something far different—ecstatic awe. The sheer, raw power Wanda displayed went beyond anything he had ever imagined. To him, this wasn't destruction—it was divinity.
"A miracle… from the heavens…" he muttered, trembling. Then, louder: "Prepare the high-voltage nets! I want her alive!"
More soldiers swarmed in. At least ten electromagnetic tanks surrounded the clearing—thanks to Wanda's earlier explosion, the ground was now wide open for their approach.
The front line carried high-voltage capture nets—each capable of releasing a shock strong enough to drop an elephant, laced with anesthetic gas for good measure. Behind them, soldiers swapped their rifles for tranquilizer guns.
There was no way out.
But Wanda's burst of power had drained her completely. She collapsed against Lucas's chest, unconscious.
Lucas's wounds, on the other hand, were already gone. Within seconds, his body had completely regenerated. He gently laid Wanda down, then turned to face Baron Strucker, his eyes cold as ice.
"You know," he said softly, his tone like the wind before a blizzard, "letting Wanda and me walk away would've been your smartest choice. But you overestimated yourself… and underestimated me."
He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper.
"This castle—along with everyone in it—no longer deserves to exist."
As he moved toward the corner of the clearing, every soldier raised their weapon in unison, aiming at him.
They all knew now what Lucas was capable of. He'd just survived a storm of bullets without so much as a scar—what kind of monster was he?
He laid Wanda carefully inside an empty oil drum, out of harm's way. Then he turned back toward the soldiers and Strucker.
"Strucker," he said, his tone calm and final, "you wanted to see my true power, didn't you? Well, today you will. I just hope you don't regret it."
Lucas raised his arms, and the wind began to howl.
Green energy swirled wildly around him, coalescing, thickening, feeding on itself.
Strucker's face twisted. "Fire! Shoot him now!"
But it was far too late.
BOOOOM!!!
The winds roared to life, merging into a massive cyclone that reached into the sky. Within the raging vortex, a pair of golden, vertical pupils snapped open—vast, ancient, and full of fury.
"ROOOAAR!!!"
The very air trembled at the sound. The tornado shattered outward, and from its heart emerged a colossal, winged being—Garuda, the storm incarnate.
Strucker's jaw fell open. "A—A god…! A divine miracle!"
Overcome with zeal, he dropped to his knees, bowing toward the titanic figure in ecstasy.
Garuda looked down at him, eyes glacial and pitiless. One hand lifted lazily.
A single flick—
And a massive wind blade shot forth, slicing through the air.
BOOM!
Baron Strucker exploded like a balloon, reduced to a fine mist of blood. Not even bones remained.
"ROAR!!!"
Garuda let out another deafening cry. Countless blades of wind erupted from its body, raining in every direction.
The ground split apart. The sky screamed under the pressure. Everything below was shredded into dust—the tanks, the soldiers, the fortress walls—all obliterated in an instant.
The scene was apocalyptic.
Within seconds, there was nothing left alive.
The once-grand Hydra fortress collapsed into rubble, the earth torn open with deep, jagged chasms that stretched like the scars of divine judgment.
Then the green energy began to fade. Garuda dissolved into countless emerald motes, drifting away into the wind.
Lucas descended from the sky, landing silently amidst the ruins. He didn't even glance at the devastation around him.
Only a small circle—five meters wide—remained untouched.
Wanda, still unconscious, lay safe within it.
Lucas walked over, picked her up gently, and turned toward the horizon.
"I told you," he said quietly, looking back at the ruin behind him. "This castle didn't deserve to exist. And I keep my word."
Above, the clouds twisted open into a swirling vortex.
A burning meteor streaked down from the heavens.
KRAKOOM!!!
The meteor slammed into the ruins with earth-shattering force. The shockwave leveled the entire mountain, flattening everything for miles.
By the time dawn broke, the Hydra fortress was nothing more than a crater.
At the nearest town, people were abuzz with panic and curiosity.
They'd all seen the fireball streak across the sky the night before, and now reporters were flooding in, eager for "first-hand footage" of the so-called meteor strike.
And in a small café in that very town, the real culprit—Lucas—was quietly eating breakfast.
He finished quickly under the suspicious gaze of the innkeeper and went upstairs to check on Wanda.
She lay on the bed, still unconscious, her brow furrowed as if trapped in a nightmare. Scarlet energy flickered faintly around her, pulsing with the chaos that refused to rest.
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