Game Over : Marvel Reboot

"Of all things… I got nabbed by some old Nazi's group…"

I was captured by Hydra. The gullible, naive version of me—a mutant with a laughably weak ability. My power? I could emit a small amount of pheromones, a gas or liquid that induced sexual attraction, increased libido and clouded a person's mind momentarily. That was it. No super strength, no telekinesis, no healing factor. Just… that. A pathetic excuse for a mutant ability, a freaking walking Viagra, and yet, it was enough to ruin my life.

I was only 17 when they took me. For the first year, they tried to groom me, to brainwash me into becoming one of their agents, after all the ability to lower anyone inhibitions and able to seduce anyone, really do a desired skill set for a spy. But I failed. I couldn't kill anyone. I couldn't even hurt a fly. Violence is never the old me strong suits. So, they deemed me useless, and once the deemed me useless, that's means I am no longer a human. At 18, I was turned into a lab rat. The experiments started—inhumane, brutal, and endless. They injected me with all sorts of chemicals, damaging my body and corrupting my mind.

There is no actual reason for what they did to my body, not even an attempt to make me the second super soldier or anything for the matter, I was always going to become their toy, they inject me with a cobra venom just to see if I can survive, puncture my arm with a red hot needle just for the heck of it and my pheromones, the one thing that made me "special," were harvested constantly. They turned my ability into a drug, a serum for their twisted purposes. Torture, harvest, torture, harvest. The cycle never ended. Day after day. Month after month.

Last night, Dietrich Voss, the high-ranking Hydra operative and researcher in charge of this hellhole, pushed his torture too far. He killed me. Dietrich was the first one who treated me like I wasn't even human. He degraded me at every opportunity, reveling in my suffering. And soon, everyone felt as if they got a free pass to do what they want to me, I remembered every moment of it—the needles stabbing my skin, the bruises, the punches, the kicks, the cuts, the stabs. Every ounce of pain was seared into my memories, etched into my brain like a brand.

And now, as I lay here, my body broken but my mind alive, I felt something I hadn't felt in years: rage. Not just anger, but a white-hot, all-consuming fury that burned through every fiber of my being. It reminded me of my old life, back when I was just a kid, bullied and pushed to the brink. I had almost killed my bullies in a fit of rage back then. But this? This was different. This was more intense, more unstoppable, more maddening. All the injustice, the anger, the regret—everything I had bottled up over the years—exploded in this single moment.

I was enraged, I was so enraged and angry, that the very same rage brought clarity and consolidate into a sharp rationality. My mind, usually clouded by fear and pain, became sharp, calculative. I thought about Hydra, about how they were always depicted as the ultimate evil in movies, novels, and comics. I used to think it was exaggerated, that no organization could be that bad. But now? Now I knew better. Hydra wasn't just evil—they were a cancer, a blight on humanity. And I, their victim, had tasted their cruelty firsthand.

"They will pay for what they've done to me," I swore silently. "Every single one of them. No one will take this revenge away from me."

What they had done to me; I would repay a thousandfold. This was my wake-up call. I used to think the Marvel world was manageable, that it couldn't be as bad as the stories made it out to be. But now? Now I knew the truth. This world was shit. A fucking nightmare. And I was stuck in the middle of it.

But I wasn't helpless. Not anymore. The only person I could depend on was myself. Hydra was a massive organization, with roots spreading across the globe. They were everywhere—in the shadows, in governments, in organizations. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. and the World Security Council were infested with their agents. I couldn't trust anyone. Not the heroes, not the governments, not even the people who claimed to fight for justice. It was just me.

"When in doubt, always expect for the worst" this has always been my approach to life.

I needed to overhaul my approach. I couldn't just survive—No, I want to thrive. I needed to find a way to be safe, to live my life in this new world without constantly looking over my shoulder. But above all, I wanted revenge. I wanted to rip Dietrich Voss apart with my bare hands. I wanted to watch him suffer; to make him feel every ounce of pain he had inflicted on me. I made a promise to myself. Hydra would fall. Dietrich Voss would pay. And I, Sai Yuki, no, Sai Morvayne would be the one to make it happen.

"Control yourself, Sai…. Focus and THINK!"

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down even further. My mind raced as I recalled everything I knew about this facility. It was an underground secret lab, medium-sized, with three floors. A hidden Hydra warehouse, a small experimentation lab, and holding cells for mutants. There were no friendlies here—no one I could trust. Just Hydra agents and their victims, anyone that are able to roam around in this facility, I should treat them as threat.

This MCU was unique. Mutants existed here, which complicated things. But I couldn't afford to dwell on that. Right now, survival was my only priority. If I didn't escape this compound soon, I was as good as dead.

As I lay hidden beneath the pile of body bags, I heard voices approaching. Two men entered the room, their laughter echoing off the walls. They were joking around, casually throwing racist remarks about mutants. I peeked through the small gap in the body bags, observing them. Both wore hazmat suits and carried handguns. They were clearly low-level staff, probably in charge of body disposal. They were unfit, struggling to lift a single body and toss it into the incinerator.

"Perfect," I thought. "They're careless and unguarded. This might be my chance."

For 20 minutes, they worked at a snail's pace, only disposing of two bodies. In that time, they managed to chat, munch on snacks, and laugh loudly. They were completely oblivious to their surroundings. Then, at the 25-minute mark, an opportunity presented itself.

"Shit! …hey, I'm going to take a leak a bit…". One of the men left the room, saying he needed to use the bathroom.

"Sure, I'll wait… I am not moving this body alone". That left only one man in the room—alone with me.

The remaining man sat on a chair in front of the incinerator, his back turned to me. He was distracted, scrolling through something on a small device. Silently, I crawled out of my hiding spot, my movements slow and deliberate. My body was weak, but I had enough strength for this. As I approached him, my heart pounded, but my mind remained calm. A sign that the old me still with me and his body reminded me of it, this was do or die situation. I ignored that hesitation and moved.

When I was close enough, I wrapped my arm around his neck in a chokehold.

"URK!!!...UGGHH!!!...HMMM!!!".

He struggled, but I held firm, my grip unyielding. I felt nothing as he writhed in pain, his muffled cries barely audible.

"That's right you bastard…. look at me…. this Is how…. this how it should be…. this…this had to be done"

I speaks to myself, when his muscles began to loosen, I twisted his head sharply.

"CRACK!!! …. THUD!". The sickening snap of his neck echoed in the room, and he went limp, and I released my hold. Letting him fall to the floor.

"You've died, because of your soft nature…. This world is dangerous and as shit as it can get….to live and to thrive…we had to take action…So, now you can rest…. I will take care of everything from now on".

I stood there speaking to myself as I looked straight at the lifeless body on my feet. The owner of this body had life before this very moment, although lacking and rough, I still would respect and give him a consolation, after all, he was an alternate version of me that were created from my deal. Indirect or not, his demise might be because of me. As he was destined to perish and I were destined to take his place.

Although the old alternate me might not here this, I cannot afford to waste any time here, I had to move quick. I stripped the dead guy of his hazmat suit, his wallet, and anything else of value. Once I was dressed in his gear, I tossed his body into the incinerator. The handgun felt heavy in my hands, a familiar sensation, there is firearms in YGGDRASIL as well, and I do use and trained with them as well. I kept it close, waiting by the door for the second man to return.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and the second man walked in.

"Ahh~ that was a relief~ eh?" As soon as he stepped inside, I pounced.

"DDAAAKK!!...". I swung the handgun at the back of his head with all the strength I could muster.

"AH! …Ughh!!...THUD!". The impact sent him stumbling forward, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Blood trickled from the wound, but he was still alive.

I didn't kill him immediately. Instead, I stripped him of his hazmat suit and used the shredded remains of my body bag to tie him to a chair. When he woke up, groggy and disoriented, I began my interrogation.

"Where are we?" I demanded, my voice low and steady.

He hesitated, but a sharp glare from me was enough to make him talk. "Brooklyn, New York," he stammered. "We're under an abandoned warehouse."

"Where's the staff locker room?" I asked.

"It's…it's…the third door down the left hallway….". He gave me the directions, his voice trembling. That was all I needed. Without another word. I grab his shoulder and yank him off the chair, down to the floor.

"Wait! wait!... CRACK!!!..". as he begged to me, the racist him that looked and sounded so strong, no longer there.

He will get nothing from me, I lifted my foot, and stomped down hard at the back of his neck. Killing him instantly, I disposed of him the same way I had his partner, stripped him off any of his valuables and then tossing his body into the incinerator.

Then, I slipped out of the room, my heart racing but my mind focused. The hallway outside was dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of chemicals and decay. I moved quickly but cautiously, keeping my head down and my movements discreet. The hazmat suit reeked of corpses, and the few people I passed avoided me, their faces twisted in disgust, distancing themselves from me instinctively, It worked in my favor—no one wanted to get close, means no one really can check who I am.

When I reached the staff locker room, I locked the door behind me and began searching the lockers. I found the two men's belongings and took anything valuable—cash, keys, and a few trinkets, as long as I can carry them and holding them does not slow me down, I would take them with me. Then, I ditched the hazmat suit and broke into another locker, finding a security personnel uniform. It fit well enough, and I changed into it quickly.

As I prepared to leave, I noticed a floor plan of the facility hanging on the wall beside the door. I studied it carefully, memorizing the layout. There were several exits, but I chose the one on the third floor—the same floor I was on. It was the closest and, hopefully, the least guarded. With my plan in place, I stepped out of the locker room and headed straight for the exit. My heart pounded with every step, but I forced myself to stay calm. I couldn't afford to make a mistake now. Not when freedom was so close.