The air was thick with the scent of smoke and burnt metal as Alex made his way through the narrow, shadowed corridors leading out of the smoldering ruins of the first APEX base he had just demolished. His black trousers were singed and torn, one leg half burnt through, and his feet were bare, feeling the cold, rough concrete beneath them. His white shirt was long gone, shredded in the chaos of the fight, leaving his upper body exposed to the chill of the underground facility. The loose tie that had once hung around his neck was now nothing more than a ragged strip of fabric trailing behind him.
He moved with a strange mixture of exhaustion and adrenaline, his muscles still humming with the residual heat of the battle. The power that had surged through him during the fight was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if his entire body had become a furnace, burning with an energy that both terrified and exhilarated him. But now, as he emerged from the depths of the base, the heat had settled into a dull, steady burn beneath his skin.
Following the route Smith had carefully pointed out to him to avoid surveillance cameras and patrols, Alex navigated the maze of back alleys and service tunnels that led to the safe house. The city above was oblivious to the destruction that had just taken place beneath its streets. The world went on, unaware that one of APEX's most fortified bases had been wiped off the map by a single man.
When Alex finally arrived at the safe house, he found Jones and Smith already there, their eyes glued to a screen displaying the footage of the assault. The grainy video showed Alex moving through the base with lethal precision, his fists glowing with that strange, fiery energy as he tore through APEX soldiers like a force of nature. The clip was brutal, raw, and utterly mesmerizing.
Jones and Smith turned toward the entrance as Alex stepped inside, taking in his disheveled appearance with a mixture of surprise and concern. The sight of him—half naked, barefoot, and with his trousers in tatters—was a stark contrast to the composed, tactical operative they were used to seeing.
Well, that was… something," Jones said, breaking the silence. His voice carried a note of uncertainty, as if he were struggling to find the right words to describe what he had just witnessed. It was understandable. The sheer brutality of Alex's abilities and the way he had annihilated the base was unlike anything they had ever seen. He had single-handedly wiped out over forty APEX soldiers using nothing but his bare hands and that mysterious power burning inside him.
Smith's expression was softer, almost sympathetic. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with genuine concern. There was something in the way he looked at Alex that suggested he was trying to reconcile the image of the man before him with the ruthless fighter on the screen.
Alex shrugged off the concern with a faint smile. "Just peachy," he said, his voice rough but steady. The relief of being out of that hellish base was palpable. For the first time in what felt like forever, he could breathe without the constant threat of death looming over him. The idea of doing something normal—like going to the movies—flitted through his mind, but he pushed it aside. There was no time for that now.
Jones cleared his throat, breaking the momentary calm. "You know, by now, APEX will have received word about the destruction of that base."
Alex nodded. "I figured as much. What's the plan? Hit another one?"
His voice was eager, almost roaring with the energy that still coursed through him. The fight had awakened something inside him—a reservoir of power and fury that demanded release. He felt like a volcano ready to erupt, and the thought of sitting idle was unbearable.
Jones exchanged a glance with Smith before responding. "Not today," Jones said firmly. "Mr. Ford was called in by the Council for a meeting. He mentioned he had an avenue he wanted to explore first. For now, you need to lay low."
Alex frowned, the impatience clear on his face. "Lay low? After what I just did? I'm ready to keep going."
Smith stepped forward, his tone calm but insistent. "It's not about being ready. It's about strategy. We can't afford to move too fast or too slow. APEX isn't running scared yet. If we push too hard, they'll catch on and adapt. If we wait too long, we lose the advantage. We have to find the right pace."
Jones nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We move steady. Controlled. We destroy more bases, but we do it smart."
Jones leaned forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Can I ask… what exactly did you do back there? It looked like your body was burning through some kind of energy that made you stronger. Is it some sort of pyromantic-kinetic energy induction ability?"
Smith blinked, clearly not understanding the technical jargon. "What does that mean?"
Alex chuckled softly and explained, "He's asking if I'm using my body heat to boost my natural abilities."
Turning back to Jones, Alex shook his head. "It's not just body heat. It feels like… I'm a ball of energy. Something else entirely."
Jones's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "So, you're a walking nuke."
At that moment, the door opened and Mr. Ford entered, his presence commanding the room. "You look like you ran away from prison," he said with a smirk, eyeing Alex's disheveled state. "I presume it went well?"
Alex grinned, the exhaustion and adrenaline mixing in his expression. "More than well, boss. It went bad. A good bad."
Smith gestured toward the screen and played the footage for Ford to watch. The brutal efficiency of Alex's assault was undeniable. Watching it from a third-person perspective was almost too much—the way Alex's fist snapped a soldier's neck in the opposite direction, or how his searing red fist pierced through a man's heart. It was the kind of violence that belonged in movies, not real life.
Ford shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and amusement on his face. "Damn, you sure you're okay? Looks like someone gave you an aphrodisiac and tied you to a bed in the middle of a strip club."
There was laughter in his eyes, a rare moment of levity in the grim reality of their mission. He had found a wildcard in Alex—a weapon unlike any other.
Alex straightened, brushing off the grime and sweat that clung to his skin. "I'm fine. What's our next move? There are six APEX locations in New York alone. We need to move fast."
Ford's expression grew serious. "No, we don't."
Alex's brow furrowed in confusion.
"We don't move fast. We move steady," Ford explained. "APEX isn't on the run. We are. If we move too fast, they'll catch a pattern. Move too slow, and they'll catch us with our pants down. Then it's game over. We keep a pace."
Alex nodded slowly, beginning to understand the gravity of the situation.
Ford continued, "And how do we keep that pace? We destroy more bases, of course."
Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "You know what? I think I'll go take a bath."
With that, he turned and walked away, eager to wash the sweat, grime, and blood from his body. The fight had been brutal, but it had also been a revelation. His body was changing, evolving, and the road ahead was long and uncertain.
But for the first time in a long time, Alex felt ready.
As Alex stood under the hot water, the steam swirling around him, he let his mind wander back to the battle. The heat that had surged through his veins, the power that had made him unstoppable—it was both a gift and a curse. He didn't fully understand it yet, but he knew one thing for certain: this was only the beginning.
Jones and Smith's words echoed in his mind. The need for patience, strategy, and control. The knowledge that APEX was still a formidable enemy, and that their fight was far from over.
But Alex was no longer the same man who had walked into that base. He was something more. Something stronger.
And with every passing day, he would learn to harness the fire within him.
The war against APEX was just beginning—and Alex was ready to burn it all down.
The bath was a rare luxury—one Alex hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity. As the cold water cascaded over his skin, he let himself relax fully for the first time in months. The chill seeped deep into his muscles, washing away the grime, sweat, and blood that clung stubbornly to his body. He closed his eyes and savored the sensation, wondering when he had last enjoyed such a moment of peace. The world outside was chaotic, dangerous, and unforgiving, but here, in this small sanctuary, he could simply be.
After the bath, Alex wrapped himself in a simple towel and made his way to his room. The cool air brushed against his damp skin as he stood by the window, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape beneath the night sky. The city was alive with lights, a glittering web of streets and buildings stretching as far as the eye could see. But beneath its vibrant surface, it was a hub for the unnatural—a place where secrets festered and shadows moved with purpose.
He wondered, not for the first time, if he could ever truly go back home. If "home" was even a place he could claim anymore. Everything felt foreign now—the people, the streets, even the very air seemed different. Or perhaps it was just the intoxicating taste of freedom speaking to him, whispering promises of a life unshackled from the chains of his past.
After changing into simple clothes meant for sleeping, Alex descended the stairs to the kitchen. The warm glow of the overhead light revealed Smith standing at the stove, expertly whipping up a meal. The aroma of eggs and rice filled the room, a comforting reminder of normalcy amid the chaos.
"Kiddies or black?" Smith asked with a grin, glancing over his shoulder as he prepared a fresh pot of coffee.
Alex chuckled, the sound low and tired. "Black," he replied without hesitation. There was no way he was trading the first cup of coffee he'd had in over a year and a half for anything else—not juice, not tea, nothing.
Smith poured the steaming coffee into a mug and handed it to Alex, who accepted it with a nod of thanks. Cradling the warm cup in his hands, Alex made his way to the living room where Mr. Ford and Jones were seated, their eyes fixed on the flickering television screen.
What now?" Alex asked, his voice tinged with frustration. "We destroyed a base, sure, but that's just one out of… what? One hundred and fifty? Statistically, we haven't done shit."
Jones nodded thoughtfully, understanding the weight behind Alex's words. The destruction of a single APEX base was a victory, but it was a drop in the ocean compared to the sprawling network the organization had built. Disrupting their operations was a monumental task, and Alex knew it.
His gaze drifted back to the window, the city lights blurring as his mind wandered. It was 2003—a year marked by a significant event in the world of the unnatural. A news about the renowned genetic scientist Karl markov transformation into a monstrous creature due to some failed experiment , a transformation that had captured the imaginations of many.
A thought struck him then, one that had been gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. What would happen if he took markov's serum? With his adaptive ability, he should be able to survive the transformation without succumbing to the alter ego or becoming an abomination. His body might evolve to suit the serum, adapting in ways that could make him stronger, more resilient.
Arnold had once theorized that evolution could be guided—a concept that had been proven true during Alex's recent encounter with APEX. His body had changed, adapted, and evolved in response to the extreme conditions he had faced. What if Banner's serum could be the next step in that evolution?
The creature termed " the beast" invulnerability was something Alex desperately needed.
Smith interrupted his thoughts as he served the food, placing plates of steaming rice and eggs on the table. The smell was intoxicating, and Alex's stomach growled in response. He hadn't eaten properly in weeks, and the sight of the food made his mouth water.
Without hesitation, Alex began to eat, his hunger driving him to devour three servings of rice before he finally felt satisfied. The others watched him with amused expressions, their eyes following his every bite.
"What?" Alex asked, looking up with a sheepish grin.
"It's nothing," Smith replied, laughing. "It's just the way you ate like it was the last meal you'd ever see."
Alex shrugged. "If you live on the same diet for over eighteen months, you'd understand."
The room filled with laughter, a brief moment of levity in the midst of their grim reality.
After the meal, the group settled in to watch television, beers in hand. It was a rare moment of downtime, and they all seemed eager to enjoy it. The flickering screen provided a comforting distraction from the weight of their mission.
Mr. Ford's voice broke the silence, low and serious. "Tomorrow, you're going to try to hit two bases before 5 p.m. Think you can do it?"
Alex frowned, puzzled by the time constraint. "We don't know what the other bases are like, but if they're anything like today's, then yeah. But why the time limit?"
Ford's gaze remained fixed on the screen. "For proof."
The room fell into a heavy silence. The implication was clear—they needed evidence of their success, something concrete to show the Council and justify their actions.
The night stretched on, and they stayed up late watching movies. It was a rare indulgence, a chance to forget the war for a few hours. For some reason, they all seemed to crave it.
Alex admitted, "I haven't watched TV for more than eighteen months."
Smith nodded in agreement. "There are hardly any good ones."
Jones and Ford simply said, "Work."
The truth was simple. Their lives were consumed by the fight against APEX, leaving little room for normal pleasures. But tonight, they allowed themselves a brief respite.
As the night deepened, Alex's thoughts returned to his evolving abilities. The power that had surged through him during the battle was unlike anything he had ever known. It was raw, untamed, and terrifyingly potent.
Arnold's theory about guided evolution lingered in his mind. If his body could adapt to the extreme conditions of combat, what else could it evolve to withstand? The idea of merging his abilities with markov's serum was tantalizing—a way to gain the beast's legendary invulnerability without losing himself.
But there were risks. The serum was unpredictable, and the transformation could come with consequences Alex wasn't ready to face. Still, the potential benefits were too great to ignore.
As dawn approached, Alex felt a renewed sense of purpose. The fight against APEX was far from over, and the road ahead would be long and perilous. But with each battle, he grew stronger, more capable.
Mr. Ford's words echoed in his mind: move steady, not fast. Strategy over recklessness. Patience over haste.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges—two bases to strike before the sun set. Proof to gather. Progress to make.
And Alex was ready.