Glancing at the radar's glowing coordinates, Chen Mo sank into the pilot's seat, exhaling slowly before opening the comm channel to the base.
By now, the Hydra base in Poland had been completely seized by the Special Operations Team. Every last soldier who'd chosen to resist had been wiped out.
But Colonel Phillips, Steve, and the others hadn't caught up to the Valkyrie Goddess. By the time they broke through the enemy defenses and reached the runway, all they could do was watch helplessly as the enormous steel beast roared into the sky—Chen Mo climbing aboard through the landing gear before it vanished into the clouds.
Now, inside the control room, they were frantically trying to contact him. They all believed that as long as Chen Mo was on that plane, he'd find a way to take control.
Then, just as they were about to switch tactics—
"This is Commander Chen Mo. Do you read me?"
Steve lunged toward the console, grabbing the receiver.
"Master! You're all right?"
Colonel Phillips and Carter crowded in behind him, their faces taut with worry.
"I'm fine," Chen Mo's voice came calm and steady. "Schmidt has been eliminated."
Relief rippled through them—then came the next question.
"And the plane? Can you fly it back?" Steve asked, almost certain of the answer. To him, his teacher could do anything.
"I'm afraid not," Chen Mo said evenly.
The color drained from their faces.
Colonel Phillips snatched the mic, voice urgent.
"What happened?"
"The plane's loaded with super bombs, and it's headed for New York—fast. The course is locked in. Once it reaches the city, it'll begin an automatic bombing run."
A stunned silence fell over the room.
If those bombs detonated over New York, the entire city would be reduced to ashes.
"Get Howard on the line—he'll find a way!" the Colonel barked.
"There's no time," Chen Mo replied. "I'm already over uninhabited waters. If I go any farther, more people will die."
His voice stayed calm—too calm.
"I'll take her into the ocean."
The words hit like a gunshot.
"No! Don't do that—we'll think of something!" Carter's voice trembled.
But Chen Mo's tone remained firm, quiet, unyielding.
"It's my decision."
Then, after a brief pause:
"Steve, Carter… looks like I won't make it to your wedding. But I still want to be your child's godfather."
Steve turned toward Carter, eyes red, throat tight. She met his gaze, tears brimming, and nodded softly.
"Of course. Who else could it be?"
A faint smile touched Chen Mo's lips.
"I'll be back."
Before they could reply, the line went dead.
No amount of shouting or pleading brought an answer. The only sound was the faint static of the empty channel.
Carter's tears slipped free; Steve pulled her into his arms, voice trembling.
"He said he'll come back… and he will."
Colonel Phillips turned away, eyes red-rimmed but dry. Inside, he sighed.
The kid's got a good heart… but he's still too naïve. Chen Mo's strong—but he's no god.
Far away, on the northern edge of the Atlantic—
A brutal, frozen wind howled across the endless white of the polar ice fields.
There, standing motionless in the blizzard, was Major John Wolfe, one of Hydra's current acting commanders and head of its security forces. His posture was rigid, his eyes burning with fervor.
He was waiting for his god to return.
Time lost all meaning. His body grew numb from the cold, but his devotion only burned hotter. And when the shadow of the Valkyrie Goddess finally appeared in the distant sky, his heart surged.
The massive flying fortress loomed larger by the second, diving straight toward him like a blade of divine wrath cleaving through the heavens.
When the Valkyrie struck the outer edge of the sea ice, the impact carved a deep furrow hundreds of meters long. Chunks of shattered ice flew skyward. The enormous aircraft skidded across the frozen expanse, shearing off its wingtips and rear flaps before finally grinding to a halt a few hundred meters away.
Without hesitation, Wolfe sprinted toward a nearby Hydra helicopter already spinning its rotors. The moment he climbed aboard, the pilot lifted off, racing toward the crash site.
As the chopper descended before the massive, motionless body of the Valkyrie, Chen Mo was already standing there amidst the swirling snow, silent and unscathed.
Wolfe froze.
He knew that face—Chen Mo, the Chinese martial artist personally appointed by Schmidt as his deputy, sent to America for a top-secret mission.
But… he had been told to await the return of the Supreme Leader himself.
Why was Chen Mo here instead?
He hesitated, confusion flickering in his eyes.
Chen Mo noticed—and his gaze turned icy.
"Strange, isn't it, John?" he said softly.
"Have you forgotten what Hydra truly is?"
That voice.
That deep, commanding tone that could chill a man's soul — it struck Wolfe like lightning. His body trembled violently.
Could it be…?
Could Chen Mo and the Supreme Leader Schmidt be one and the same?
The realization struck him like revelation.
Of course! Hydra — named after the mythical serpent with nine heads. Cut off one, and two more would grow in its place.
Their godlike leader, Schmidt, could easily possess multiple faces — multiple lives — each as powerful as the last.
It all made perfect sense now.
No wonder there had been no one stronger than Chen Mo. No wonder he had served Hydra with such loyalty.
Because Chen MowasSchmidt — the immortal head of Hydra itself.
And to John Wolfe, kneeling in the snow, there could be no greater miracle.