Marvel: Video Game Templates!

Meanwhile, back in the Siberian Hydra base, the corridors reeked of blood and burnt metal. The remains of fallen Hydra operatives lay sprawled across the floor, their bodies twisted in unnatural angles and their weapons still clutched in lifeless hands.

Maxim was moving at the head of the group, his presence shifting between solid and incorporeal as he scouted ahead.

Fighting regular humans, he wasn't really able to test his Doomsday template without instantly one shotting them, so he mostly just acted as a scout and let the others have their fun.

Behind him, Steve and Bucky had moved in relative sync. Even after all these years, they still had a strong fighting chemistry with each-other, and Wanda lagged behind them, pistol raised for any sudden movements.

Wanda's fingers still crackled with residual energy, her jaw clenched as she replayed Hela's words in her mind. That woman was just following at a leisurely pace, her eyes half-lidded with amusement.

The group reached a corner and telling them to halt, giving them a signal to prepare themselves. Once everyone gave the go signal, they turned and immediately, the ceiling-mounted turrets came to life.

WHIRRR—TCH-TCH-TCH-TCH!

A hailstorm of bullets rained down from above.

Steve threw his shield up, deflecting the barrage, but more weapons activated. Automatic sentry guns unfolded from the walls, red lights locking onto them.

Maxim shifted into action.With a flick of his wrist, the shadows at his feet surged up like ink in water, swallowing him whole.

An instant later, he reappeared atop the nearest turret, his void-forged blade slicing through metal like butter. Sparks erupted as the machine sputtered and died.

Wanda, still irritated from her exchange with Hela, focused on the remaining guns. She gestured sharply, red mist coiling around her arms before snapping forward like a whip.

The sentry guns crumpled under the pressure, torn from their mounts and flung into the walls with violent force.

Bucky took out a soldier emerging from a side door with a single shot, while Natasha moved with cold precision, dodging and returning fire with deadly accuracy.

More soldiers poured in from the corridors ahead.

Bucky just sighed, "Closer we get, the more there are."

Steve readied his shield, "They know we're here. They'll keep coming."

Hela, still watching from the back, gave a small, unimpressed hum, "This is starting to bore me."

Wanda exhaled sharply, rounding on the Asgardian, "Then instead of standing there judging everyone, how about you actually fight?"

Hela's lips curled into a wicked smirk. She stepped forward, tilting her head at Wanda with amusement, "You want me to fight?"

She lifted a hand—and the shadows around her exploded.

SHRRRK—SHRRRK—SHRRRK!

Black blades erupted from the ground like a storm of death, slicing through anything in their path. The air itself sang with the force of the attack.

Hydra soldiers barely had time to scream before their bodies were eviscerated, impaled by barrages of Necroswords. Some were lifted off their feet entirely, speared mid-motion, their weapons clattering uselessly to the floor.

Even the reinforced walls bore the damage, deep gashes carved into the steel by the sheer force of Hela's assault.

In mere seconds, the entire enemy force had been annihilated.

Steve had instinctively raised his shield, but it was unnecessary. The battle had ended before he could even react.

Bucky lowered his gun, eyebrows raised slightly, "Shit."

Wanda stood still, watching the remnants of the attack fade into darkness, her breath caught somewhere between astonishment and unease.

Hela glanced at her, smug satisfaction gleaming in her green eyes. "Watch and learn, little witch."

She strode forward, stepping over the bodies as though they were nothing more than minor inconveniences.

A single wink at Wanda, "Shall we?"

Wanda clenched her jaw, the weight of Hela's words pressing against her pride. Meanwhile, Maxim, who was watching the exchange, just exhaled and motioned for the group to move. "Keep up."

The group just followed along, and watched as Hela tore any and all attackers to shreds. Blood stained the floors and walls, the latter which also bore deep gashes from Hela's assault.

The entire atmosphere was enveloped by a stench of death and slaughter, and at the heart of it all, Hela walked with the grace of a Goddess surveying her Divine Kingdom.

Ahead of them, another wave of Hydra soldiers came rushing in, desperate, screaming orders, their boots pounding against the floor as they raised their rifles.

~SHINK!~

A dozen Necroswords materialized in the air around Hela, then fired forward like arrows loosed from a divine bow.

Screams cut short. Bodies collapsed in grotesque heaps, impaled mid-motion before they could even fire a shot.

More came from a side passage. Hela barely glanced their way before flicking her fingers. The ceiling itself warped and twisted as a jagged spike of solid darkness erupted downward, impaling every last soldier in an instant.

The rest of the team simply watched, hardly needing to lift a finger as Hydra's forces were obliterated.

Maxim observed in silence, his expression unreadable, though he certainly wasn't surprised. He had already factored Hela's overwhelming power into his calculations, but seeing it in action was another thing entirely.

Bucky clenched his jaw. He had seen his fair share of death. Had caused his fair share. But the sheer effortlessness with which Hela ended lives, without so much as breaking stride, sent a shiver down his spine.

It was the same ruthlessness he had as the Winter Soldier, yet Hela was clearly doing this just for fun, which only made her more terrifying.

Wanda, still bristling from their earlier exchange, remained tense, her hands curling and uncurling. The raw, unrestrained ease of Hela's power gnawed at her. The way she moved, the way she didn't move, as if none of this required any exertion at all…

Even Steve, who had fought Gods before, furrowed his brow.

Hela, as if sensing their thoughts, smirked.

"What?" she murmured, voice low and teasing, "You mortals seem troubled. Should I slow down?"

"Wouldn't kill you to try teamwork," Natasha muttered under her breath, stepping over a fallen body.

Hela arched an amused brow, "I am helping. Look, no one's shooting at you anymore."

Natasha rolled her eyes, but didn't argue.

Maxim, unfazed, finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension. "Enough sightseeing. We're almost there."

Bucky took the lead now, moving ahead with grim familiarity. The deeper they went, the more the facility changed. The sterile white walls of Hydra's outer corridors gave way to something older, something colder.

Then, finally, they reached it.

The core.

A vast chamber, its ceiling stretching impossibly high, lined with rows upon rows of cryogenic pods. The glass of the pods was fogged, but even through the frost, the figures inside were visible, motionless, trapped in frozen slumber.

Hydra's secret army.

The other Winter Soldiers.

Bucky's hands clenched into fists. His eyes swept over the pods, and for a moment, something dark and haunted flickered across his face.

Steve placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Bucky took a breath. He didn't look at Steve when he answered, "No."

But he moved forward anyway. Stopping in front of the main control panel, he exhaled through his nose. His vibranium hand hovered over the console, fingers flexing slightly as if trying to recall old motions.

"I remember this place," he muttered. "They kept me here sometimes, when I wasn't needed." His eyes flickered toward the pods, his expression grim, "When we weren't needed."

Steve tightened his jaw. Wanda stepped closer, looking at the frozen soldiers with quiet apprehension.

"They're alive?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah. Barely." His voice was rough, bitter, "But they're still Hydra programmed, and for them, it's much worse than mine. If we wake them up, it will lead to another fight."

Maxim crossed his arms, glancing at Wanda. "Then let's find out if they're even worth waking up."

Wanda looked at him, then back at the pods.

"You want me to read them?"

"You've done it before," Maxim pointed out. "Find out if they can be saved. If they're too far gone, "

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.

Wanda swallowed, nodding.

She stepped forward, pressing her palm against the glass of the nearest pod. Red light flickered at her fingertips, spreading in slow, pulsing waves.

The others watched in silence.

Her eyes closed, and for a moment, everything was still.

Then, 

Her breath hitched.

Visions crashed into her mind.

Pain. Torture. Isolation. Voices whispering commands. The sound of gunfire. Flesh tearing. Screams.

Memories. Broken, shattered remnants of people who had once been human—before Hydra had twisted them into something else.

Wanda's fingers trembled against the glass.

More flashes. Some minds were empty, hollowed-out husks with nothing left but obedience. Others flickered with fractured humanity, buried, distant, but still there.

Her breathing quickened as she sifted through them, searching, searching.

And then, finally, she found something.

Her eyes snapped open, glowing with crimson light.

She turned to Maxim.

"Some of them," she said, voice tight. "Some of them might still be saved."

Maxim's expression didn't change. But his gaze held a quiet intensity as he processed her words.

Bucky exhaled, tension rolling off his shoulders. Steve, standing beside him, set his jaw.

Natasha folded her arms, "So what now?"

Maxim's answer came swiftly.

"We wake them up."

Wanda swallowed. "And the ones that can't be saved?"

A long pause.

Then, 

"Then we put them down."