The tension hanging in the air gradually dissipated, like fog burning away under morning sun. What had been rigid postures and gripped weapons slowly relaxed into something approaching cautious acceptance.
The woman, Zora, and young Kane moved to the front of the group. They took point, leading Nolan and the Stormtroopers deeper into the mountains. Behind them, Nolan's hands moved in silent gestures, commanding signals that every member of his team understood instinctively. Stay alert. Watch the flanks. Weapons ready.
Power armor servos hummed softly as they followed their guides through increasingly rugged terrain.
The climb continued, boots crunching through snow and frozen earth. They crested another small hill, legs working against the incline. And finally, spread out before them, the rebel stronghold came into view.
Stronghold was a generous term. The reality was far more modest.
A cave dominated the sheltered position beneath the hillside, its entrance a dark mouth carved into the rock. The opening was large enough to accommodate a family, perhaps several families if they didn't mind cramped quarters. Someone had attempted to fortify it, wooden fences constructed from tree trunks and branches ringed the cave's entrance in a rough semicircle.
It was the work of desperate people with limited resources. Functional, barely, but nothing that would stop a determined assault.
Zora and Kane's return drew immediate attention. Figures moved near the cave entrance, sentries whose heads turned and bodies stiffened. Then they saw what followed behind the familiar pair.
Black metal giants, striding through the snow like walking monuments.
A whistle pierced the pale sky, shrill and urgent. The warning cry carried across the mountainside, echoing off rock faces. Its meaning was unmistakable: danger, threat, alarm.
The cave erupted with movement. People poured out of the darkness, a flood of humanity that materialized from the depths. Middle-aged and elderly, every one of them. Their clothes hung shabby and worn on frames too thin, faces pale from prolonged malnutrition. Skin stretched tight over bones, eyes sunken in skulls.
But they came armed. Old firearms clutched in weathered hands, weapons that had seen decades of use. Three to four hundred of them, forming a ragged defensive line.
And despite facing power armor that defied common sense, despite the obvious mismatch in capability, they didn't flee. Didn't hesitate. Broken weapons rose, barrels shaking slightly but pointing toward the tall figures of Nolan and his team.
Courage or stubbornness, the line blurred completely.
Nolan's mouth opened, ready to address them. But Zora moved faster.
She stepped forward, Kane held protectively against her side. Her voice rang out with clear authority, cutting through the murmurs of fear and confusion. Orders followed, sharp and brooking no argument. Put away the firearms. Stand down.
She spoke briefly, introducing Nolan and the others. Allies, she called them. The word hung strange and uncertain in the cold air.
The expressionless middle-aged and elderly people listened. Slowly, reluctantly, weapons lowered. The defensive line dissolved as they turned and filtered back into the cave's depths, disappearing into shadow like ghosts retreating to their haunts.
Ten minutes passed. The cave's interior was divided into smaller spaces, personal areas carved out with hanging blankets and makeshift walls. One such space belonged to Zora.
Inside, a fire burned in a carefully contained pit. Flames danced and flickered, casting shifting light across rough stone walls. Smoke rose toward a natural chimney in the rock above, most of it escaping but enough lingering to sting the eyes.
Nolan had removed his metal helmet slowly, revealing his face in the firelight. He sat across from Zora, who had settled Kane near the flames. The boy lay curled on his side, wrapped in thin blankets. Zora's hands moved gently through his hair, stroking the dark strands with maternal care.
She coaxed him toward sleep with soft murmurs and gentle touches. Kane's eyes fluttered, fighting consciousness, but exhaustion and a full belly from the chocolate bar dragged him down. His breathing deepened, evening out into the rhythm of true sleep.
Nolan waited, watching in silence. Only when he was certain Kane had fully succumbed did he speak. His voice emerged low and puzzled.
"Are you the current leader of the resistance? Are those middle-aged and elderly people the resistance of Latveria?"
He leaned forward slightly, firelight catching in his cyan wolf eyes. "What have you relied on to resist for so many years? According to the intelligence information on the Internet, haven't you already occupied most of the agricultural areas in the country and are planning to launch an attack on the capital city? Why is the reality different from the propaganda on the Internet?"
Zora's palm continued its gentle motion through Kane's hair. For a moment, she didn't respond. Then something like a sneer curved the corner of her mouth, bitter and self-mocking.
"Yes, a month and a half ago, our future was indeed bright, but now, I can tell you clearly that today's resistance army no longer has any capital worthy of the covetousness of outsiders like you."
Her eyes lifted, meeting Nolan's inhuman gaze directly. The cyan wolf eyes didn't make her flinch. Her voice dropped lower, barely audible over the fire's crackling.
"A small operation to seize supplies and cut off the enemy's supply routes unexpectedly turned into a fatal betrayal."
The word hung heavy. Betrayal. The worst kind of failure.
"For some unknown reason, several high-ranking rebels who have been fighting with us suddenly chose to betray our leader Victor to the Fortunov family."
Her hand stilled on Kane's head. The memory clearly caused pain, visible in the tightening around her eyes. "Victor's capture not only led to the loss of nearly half of the resistance's power, but the agricultural area that was already controlled was also quickly recaptured by the Fortunov family, and stricter security was enforced. We who had hurriedly retreated quickly were in a situation where we were running out of ammunition and food."
She drew a shaking breath, forcing the words out. "And in order to rescue our leader Victor, basically all the young combatants within the resistance army died in battle!"
The confession emerged raw, each syllable edged with grief. "Failed rescues again and again in a short period of time have left only those old bones in the entire resistance army who would rather starve to death than return to the rule of the Fortunov family."
Zora's posture straightened slightly, shoulders squaring despite the weight of despair. "So, it doesn't matter whether you are good guys or bad guys."
Her voice carried a hollow finality. "Because, no matter where you come from, no matter what you want to do, you are still late."
The desperate words settled over the cave like falling ash. Silence followed, broken only by the fire's soft pops and Kane's gentle breathing.
Nolan's eyes narrowed, a subtle shift in expression. His mind worked through what he'd heard, comparing it against his assumptions. Reality and expectation diverged significantly.
"I see," he murmured, the words emerging soft and contemplative. "It seems that the reality is quite different from the truth I guessed before."
Then something shifted in his tone, a quality entering his voice that made Zora's attention sharpen. "But why do you think we're late? Why do I feel like we've only just begun?"
He leaned forward, firelight playing across his features. "Zora, right? To be honest, are you people still willing to fight for Latveria and your homeland?"
Before he'd even finished speaking, Zora's chest expanded with a deep breath. She held it, suppressing rising emotions that threatened to overflow. When she spoke, the words came without hesitation, forceful and absolute.
"If it weren't for saving Victor, the leader of the resistance, if it wasn't for that slim hope, we people would have chosen to die together with the Fortunov family's army!"
Her voice rose slightly, passion breaking through her control. "Instead of curling up in a cave and lingering like an animal like now!"
Nolan's face, illuminated by the heavy firelight that painted half in gold and half in shadow, remained steady. His hand moved deliberately, placing his palm on the metal helmet that rested beside him. The gesture was purposeful, almost ceremonial.
His gaze crossed the flickering flames, tracking through dancing light and shadow to fix on Zora. Her eyes had widened, something like hope kindling in their depths despite her attempt to suppress it.
He spoke softly, but with absolute certainty. "What if I say that I can help you rescue the leader of the resistance? Of course, that is under the condition that the other party is still alive."
The offer hung between them. Zora's expression changed, emotions flickering rapid-fire across her face. Disbelief. Hope. Suspicion. Calculation. Finally, something solidified. A decision made.
Her features gradually became solemn, taking on the weight of what she was about to commit to. She straightened fully, meeting Nolan's eyes across the fire with newfound gravity.
"So, what's the price for Latveria?"
Nolan's response came immediate and uncompromising. "Loyalty! Loyalty to myself! Loyalty to humanity itself! It's that simple!"
He rose slowly, power armor servos engaging with soft whirs. The massive form stood, towering in the confined space. He stepped across the burning fire with a single stride, flames licking harmlessly at his armor's legs. He looked down at Zora below, an imposing presence.
Zora's eyes had become firm, all uncertainty burned away. She moved carefully, gently putting down Kane where he lay in deep sleep. The boy didn't stir, lost in dreams.
She rose from the ground with her braid swaying behind her. Her movements carried determination, purpose. Without hesitation, she extended a hand toward Nolan. Her palm was rough, calloused from hard work and harder survival, but steady.
"Although I don't believe your conditions are really that simple, we have nothing to fear with only one life!"
Nolan's metal palm closed around hers, the ceramite shell dwarfing her hand completely. The grip tightened, sealing an agreement forged in firelight and desperation.
Then Nolan paused, something surfacing in his memory. His head tilted slightly, a question forming. "What is the full name of your leader of the resistance army?"
"Victor von Doom!"
The name struck like a thunderbolt.
Ten kilometers away, the Valkyrie's engines roared to life. The transport craft lifted into the sky, vector engines pushing it higher and faster. David sat at the controls, already plotting a course to the Gemini Island base. His cargo hold would return filled with food and other supplies, enough to feed the starving resistance.
Back at the cave, initial trust and agreement had been reached. These remaining forces, nothing but old, weak, sick and disabled, had temporarily become Nolan's men. The transaction was complete, at least in its first stage.
Nolan's eyes tracked across the cave's interior. Craig had begun working, distributing panacea capsules to treat patients and injured. His armored form moved from person to person, dispensing medicine with surprising gentleness. Nearby, Zora stood maintaining order in the growing line, her presence keeping things organized.
Nolan's mouth moved, words barely audible. A whisper meant for himself alone, fleeting thoughts given voice.
"I was saying that Latveria sounds familiar... Why didn't I remember that it was the hometown of Doctor Doom before?"
His eyes narrowed further, mind racing through implications. "But is Doom, who has not yet become the complete Doctor Doom, so weak? Or has my existence changed something?"
Another thought surfaced, cascading from the first. "If Doctor Doom exists, then his nemesis, Mr. Fantastic Reed and the Fantastic Four should exist, but why is there no news of the Fantastic Four? Are they simply not famous yet?"
He suddenly took a deep breath, filling his lungs completely. The exhalation came slow and controlled. His entire posture shifted into contemplation, the weight of realization settling on his shoulders.
"I hadn't mastered the technology related to space travel and didn't even have a complete spaceship, but I would really want to stay away from Earth..."
The thought hung unfinished for a moment before he continued, reaching a conclusion. "But since I can't leave, why not speed up the progress of the Astartes operation? This time, the simulation should be strengthened, right?"
His final whisper carried the faintest edge of prayer. "I hope the Emperor can bless everything to go well..."