Having pieced it all together in his mind, John Wolfe looked at Chen Mo again—this time with awe burning in his eyes. If his leader could freely change faces and forms, wasn't that the mark of a god?
Straightening his back, Wolfe raised both arms and snapped into a crisp Hydra salute.
"Hail Hydra!"
Chen Mo's face remained cold. He gave a slight nod, turned, and strode toward the helicopter.
He wasn't taking a risk—Hydra was already his. Even if Wolfe had doubted him, Chen Mo could have killed him on the spot and simply returned later under the guise of Schmidt. But that would be tedious. He didn't plan to linger here any longer than necessary. If this little test had failed, he'd have abandoned the "Schmidt" persona for now and reclaimed control next time. In the end, power decided everything.
Luckily, things went exactly as he expected. The seamless switch of identity drew no suspicion, saving him much future trouble.
When Chen Mo headed for the aircraft, Wolfe hurried to follow. Once they were aboard, the Hydra helicopter lifted off and sped north toward Greenland.
Behind them, the massive wreck of the Valkyrie Goddess groaned as the shattered ice beneath it gave way. Under the churning snowstorm stirred by the rotors, the steel colossus slowly sank, vanishing beneath the black Arctic waters—destined to slumber under the ice for the next seventy years.
Their helicopter touched down at a Hydra outpost on Greenland before transferring to a newer craft—Hydra's latest technological masterpiece: a supersonic jet fighter.
While the Allied nations were barely beginning to experiment with high-speed jet prototypes, Hydra had already built and deployed operational supersonic aircraft. The gap in technological power was staggering.
Piloted personally by Major John Wolfe, the jet—sleek, black, and dagger-shaped—shot across the sky like a blade of night, cutting toward Hydra's top-secret base in Norway.
The two-thousand-kilometer journey took less than two hours. As they neared their destination, the plane began to descend.
Through the canopy, Chen Mo gazed down upon a rugged coastline twisting along the northern sea, with endless mountain ridges rising beyond.
The jet skimmed just above the water, weaving through a long, shadowed fjord that wound deep into the mountains. At the fjord's end, encircled by snow-capped peaks, stood a towering mountain cloaked entirely in ice.
They flew straight toward its flank—where, as the aircraft approached, a section of rock silently split open, revealing a hidden runway carved into the mountain's side.
Wolfe guided the jet smoothly through the opening. Moments later, the massive rock face sealed shut behind them, erasing all trace of their entry.
This was Chen Mo's creation—Hydra's ultimate secret base.
Hidden within the Scandinavian mountains of northern Norway, the facility was buried deep inside a labyrinth of fjords and snowbound cliffs. From the air or ground, it was invisible. Each entrance was concealed beneath mechanical camouflage—seamlessly blending with the mountain until activated.
Inside his wide, steel-lined command office, Chen Mo now faced Major John Wolfe and Dr. Arnim Zola, who stood respectfully before him, reporting on Hydra's current state.
Although Zola couldn't quite understand why "Schmidt" now looked like Chen Mo, he was far too timid to question it. If Wolfe, the ever-loyal head of security, addressed this man as the Supreme Leader, then so be it. And truth be told, the aura—the cold, commanding, near-divine presence radiating from Chen Mo—was exactly the same as Schmidt's. It inspired the same instinctive fear.
The report was promising. The enormous underground complex was fully operational. Nearly the entire mountain had been hollowed out, reinforced with steel deep into the bedrock.
Built at immense cost in manpower and resources, this vast fortress was now Hydra's new headquarters. Every corridor and chamber was lined with metal—no bare rock exposed. It could withstand earthquakes, bombardments, even nuclear shockwaves.
Beyond the mountain runways and the submarine channels leading into the fjord, there were multiple hidden tunnels extending miles outward through the forests, ensuring secret transport routes for personnel and supplies.
As Zola began to elaborate on the base's design, Chen Mo waved a hand, cutting him off, and turned to Wolfe instead.
"How is our operation in Norway progressing?"
Wolfe straightened, voice brimming with pride.
"Since the construction of the secret base began, we've shifted most of our assets here. At present, more than half of Hydra's total strength is concentrated in Norway. The local Nazi divisions have been infiltrated—we can absorb them at any moment. Every key government department now serves us. Norway is effectively under our complete control."
This had been Chen Mo's directive before his supposed disappearance. And with Hydra's unmatched espionage network, achieving full control of an entire nation in just over a year was hardly impossible.
Chen Mo nodded, satisfaction glinting in his eyes.
"Excellent. Continue tightening our grip. In time, Norway will become our own nation—Hydra's sovereign realm."
He stood, the steel in his voice ringing like commandment.
"Hitler won't last much longer. His defeat is inevitable. Monitor the situation closely. When the moment comes—when the Reich begins to fall—you will move. Norway will declare independence and withdraw from German control. We will install our own government, our own parliament, our own monarchy if need be. Every lever of power must belong to us."
"Yes, my Führer! Hail Hydra!"
Wolfe's voice shook with fervor, his eyes ablaze. Under their leader's vision, Hydra would soon control an entire country—returning to the world stage as one of the victors of war.
And thanks to Chen Mo's total information lockdown, the Allies remained blissfully unaware.
To them, Hydra was dead—destroyed utterly by Chen Mo's own hand.
None of them could have imagined that the man who had crushed Hydra… was the one who had rebuilt it.
Stronger.
Smarter.
And infinitely more terrifying.