The alarm sounded like a rusted blunt saw, dragging back and forth across Levi's eardrums—slow, cruel, relentless. Each flash of the blood-red emergency lights turned the pristine white cell into something like a slaughterhouse, light and shadow interlacing until the air itself seemed to carry the stench of blood yet to come.
Explosions. Gunfire. Screams laced with terror and despair.
They surged in waves from outside, drawing closer and closer, like the tides of hell crashing against his lone, fragile boat.
Levi stood in the center of the room.
His body, frozen for half a century and only recently awakened, was still gripped by deep weakness, trembling uncontrollably. Yet the gaze within those frail limbs burned with startling brightness—sharp enough to pierce the cage around him. It was the look of a traveler who had crossed a boundless desert for months, dying of thirst, only to finally glimpse a patch of green on the horizon: madness, greed, and a resolve that would pay any price.
An opportunity.
No one understood S.H.I.E.L.D.'s methods better than he did. Once this sudden chaos subsided, what awaited him would never be freedom—only tighter confinement, deeper experimentation. They would dissect him like a rare lab rat, layer by layer, squeeze every last secret tied to the Tesseract out of him, and then seal him away as a specimen forever.
He could not allow that future.
He had to escape.
Now.
This very moment.
BOOM—!
A roar deeper and heavier than all previous explosions thundered nearby, as if a primordial beast had turned over beneath the earth. The entire room shook violently; dust poured from the ceiling like falling snow. Levi staggered, nearly collapsing as the weakness surged again.
But within that destructive shockwave—there was life.
The white door before him, forged from high-strength alloy and symbolizing absolute confinement, shrieked as metal warped. Cracks spider-webbed where the frame met the wall. The electronic lock panel erupted in a shower of sparks, then went dark with a sharp zzzt.
The door opened a crack.
Just wide enough for a person to squeeze through.
A slit that led to hell—or to heaven.
Levi's pupils shrank to pinpoints.
He did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second.
The instant the lock died, he gathered every shred of remaining strength and hurled himself forward like an arrow loosed from the bow. His shoulder slammed into the door, forcing it open as he squeezed through.
Outside the cell was a vision of purgatory.
Emergency lights flickered erratically, snapping between light and darkness, tearing the world into fragments. The air was thick with gunpowder, burning plastic, and an overwhelming stench of blood. The once-white walls were riddled with bullet holes and scorched black, and several S.H.I.E.L.D. agents lay sprawled across the floor, their warm blood pooling into dark, irregular stains.
Surviving agents took cover behind corners and fallen debris, trading fire with unseen enemies. Bullets screamed through the narrow corridor, each impact blasting sparks and concrete dust from the walls.
Levi's glaring white prison uniform made him a walking target.
He lowered his body, eyes rapidly tracking the rhythm of gunfire.
Now!
In the brief lull between two volleys, he executed a forward roll—fluid, instinctive, guided by the Super Soldier Serum—and slipped precisely behind a still-warm corpse.
Though weak, combat instinct was etched into his bones.
His hands moved fast, searching the body.
A pistol—heavy, solid.
Two spare magazines—into his pocket.
A malfunctioning radio crackling with static—discarded.
Enough.
He holstered the gun behind his waist, pressed his body flat against the cold floor, and slithered through the chaos like a snake in the shadows, using toppled filing cabinets and debris as cover. He wasn't charging for the exit.
He was moving against the flow—toward the heart of the chaos.
Because only there lay his true chance to live.
"Attention all units! Target moving toward Archive Zone B7! Repeat—target in B7!"
"Director Fury! We've lost contact with Dr. Mar-Vell!"
"Damn it! Patch me through to the Air Force—now! I want to know who the hell is up there!"
Broken, static-ridden radio chatter echoed from around the corner. Levi peeked out and spotted a familiar figure—Nick Fury, advancing with Phil Coulson and a squad of heavily armed agents, firing with precision as they pushed deeper into the corridor.
Fury's face was as taut as ever, his single eye blazing with cold intent. Every shot he fired was calm and deliberate, his voice issuing crisp orders without pause. The younger Coulson stayed close, weapon up, one hand at his earpiece—efficient, composed.
That's it.
Levi's heart slammed hard.
He remembered clearly—this was the place. In the movie, the battle between Carol Danvers and the Kree, the explosion that changed everything, began right here—in Archive Zone B7, where the light-speed engine was stored.
He followed at a careful distance, ghostlike, close enough to observe but far enough to avoid notice.
The path to hope was anything but smooth.
As he rounded a corner stacked with clutter, he collided head-on with a "S.H.I.E.L.D. agent" running in haste.
"Sorry!" the agent blurted instinctively, reaching out to steady him.
The instant they made contact, Levi froze.
Something was wrong.
The man's body temperature was far too low—cold like polished jade. The texture beneath the uniform felt wrong, rubbery. More importantly, he lacked the scent of adrenaline that a human in intense combat would inevitably give off. Though Levi didn't possess Logan's beastly senses, the Super Soldier Serum had sharpened his perception enough to catch these subtle discrepancies.
His eyes turned icy.
Without hesitation, he twisted at the waist and let himself fall backward with the collision's momentum. At the same time, his right hand flashed to his pistol, the muzzle snapping into place mid-fall, aimed squarely at the man's head.
The "agent" reacted instantly.
The apologetic look vanished, replaced by something savage and inhuman. His arm twisted at an impossible angle, bones elongating as fingers morphed into razor-sharp claws that slashed toward Levi's throat.
A Skrull.
Levi knew it—but his hands didn't pause.
Bang!
The gunshot cracked through the corridor, echoing painfully. The bullet struck the Skrull square between the brows, punching out a small hole that oozed green blood—but it didn't kill him.
"Damn it!" Levi cursed inwardly. He'd forgotten how tough Skrulls were.
The Skrull shrieked, enraged, lunging again. Levi rolled aside just in time, then kicked off the wall with all his strength, smashing into the fire-extinguisher case.
Glass shattered. A red cylinder clattered free.
He grabbed it and slammed the trigger.
HISSS—!
A dense cloud of white powder erupted, engulfing the Skrull's face. Blinded and choking, the creature roared in confusion.
Now!
Levi discarded the empty extinguisher, surged forward, and jammed the gun barrel straight into the Skrull's open mouth.
Then he pulled the trigger.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Every remaining round emptied into its skull.
The shots detonated from within, turning the Skrull's head into a slurry of green blood and bone. The body crashed to the floor, convulsed briefly, then reverted to its true green-skinned, long-eared form.
Levi braced his hands on his knees, gasping. That brief exchange had drained nearly all the strength he'd regained. Inside him, the cosmic energy—dormant for fifty years—began to stir again, burning like magma in his veins.
He couldn't stop.
Forcing himself upright, he staggered onward toward B7.
The closer he got, the clearer the explosions and the strange energy fluctuations became. The air itself seemed to tremble.
At the edge of B7, he stopped and hid behind a massive container.
The sight before him stole his breath.
A vast hangar-like experimental zone, reduced to chaos. Several oddly shaped Kree spacecraft lay wrecked and burning, black smoke billowing. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and Kree commandos in green uniforms exchanged fierce fire, energy blasts and bullets weaving a lethal net.
At the center, a small experimental aircraft lay split in two, its wreckage sparking dangerously.
A blonde woman in a green flight suit struggled to stand, blood at the corner of her mouth, eyes burning with defiance.
Nearby lay another woman, grievously wounded, blood soaking her clothes—dying.
Opposite them stood a Kree man in uniform, walking forward with arrogant calm, eyes cold and mocking.
Yon-Rogg.
Carol Danvers.
Mar-Vell.
Everyone was here.
History's turning point—right now.
Levi's heart thundered. Pressed against the icy container, he stared, barely breathing.
He saw Mar-Vell speak her final words to Carol.
Then Carol turned, confusion giving way to resolve. She raised her pistol—not at Yon-Rogg, but at the damaged engine in the wreckage, glowing with unstable blue light.
The light-speed engine.
The Tesseract's energy core.
"Don't—" Levi almost shouted.
Don't shoot it, you idiot! Shoot the man, not the engine!
But he swallowed the words, locking them in his throat.
Because he knew—
That shot had to be fired.
It was Carol Danvers' destiny to become Captain Marvel.
And it was his—Levi's—only chance to break free and truly live.
At the very instant Carol's eyes hardened and her finger tightened on the trigger—
The cosmic energy dormant within Levi, born of the Tesseract, resonated violently with its source. It roared awake, humming and vibrating at an unprecedented frequency.
Every cell in his body seemed to awaken—to crave, to rejoice, to welcome a coming feast of destruction and rebirth.
Pain tore through his nerves, yet buried deep within it was an intoxicating, almost blissful sensation.
The herald of annihilation.
And of new life.
Levi clenched his teeth until blood seeped from his gums, eyes bloodshot with agony and anticipation. Through the narrow gap, he stared at the blonde woman, at her slender finger pressing down—
Here it comes.
The next second—
The entire world was swallowed by a blinding, pure, all-devouring blue light.
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