Nolan's headache had reached a pounding intensity. The child's wails showed no signs of stopping, each sob echoing through the mountain air like a physical assault. Finally, driven by desperation more than kindness, he reached into one of his armor's storage compartments.
His metal fingers extracted a chocolate energy bar, the wrapper crinkling in the cold. He held it out toward the crying boy.
The effect was immediate and almost magical. The wailing cut off mid-sob. Small green eyes fixed on the bar with laser focus, tears still wet on the child's cheeks. Trembling hands reached out, accepted the offering, and within seconds the boy was focused entirely on unwrapping his prize.
With the crisis averted, Nolan took advantage of the sudden quiet. Simple exchanges followed, careful questions asked in measured tones while the boy's guard was down.
The child's name was Kane. He was indeed a member of the resistance, young as he was. His role involved something most wouldn't trust to a ten-year-old, carrying important information that couldn't be transmitted through radio. Messages that required a human courier, someone small and forgettable who could slip through checkpoints.
The reason for his collapse in the woods came out between bites of chocolate. He'd been traveling to the city to deliver a message, his stomach empty and gnawing. Hunger had made him reckless. He'd found what he thought was food, the overwintering stores cached by hibernating animals. Desperation had overcome caution.
The poisoning had nearly killed him.
As little Kane chewed his chocolate energy bar, a smile spreading across his face, Nolan continued to talk. Gentle questions, casual conversation. The boy's alertness lowered with each passing moment, the sugar hitting his starved system like a drug.
Words slipped out. Small revelations that Kane didn't even realize he was sharing.
Nolan and the Stormtroopers pieced together the picture, assembling fragments into a coherent whole. The resistance's internal situation was dire, worse than they'd suspected.
The Fortunov family's ongoing manhunt had tightened like a noose. Draconian laws punished anyone caught helping the rebels. Civilians who had once voluntarily provided food supplies now cut off contact, forced to protect themselves and their families. Self-preservation trumped solidarity.
As their support network collapsed, the resistance had withdrawn. Their scope of activities shrank progressively, retreating from the outskirts and edges of the city into these desolate, barely inhabited mountains. Isolation became their only protection.
They'd tried to adapt, attempted to establish channels for importing grain through foreign merchants. But then their leader had vanished. Just... gone. Disappeared without warning or explanation.
The blow to morale had been catastrophic. Worse still, the external communication channels had been controlled solely by that leader. With him gone, those channels had died too. No way to reach out. No way to call for help.
Now the resistance was trapped in these mountains, slowly starving. It wouldn't be long before practical factors forced disbandment. The rebellion would simply fade away, not with a bang but with a whimper of empty stomachs and broken spirits.
Boom, boom, boom.
The coniferous forest shook with each heavy footfall. Snow that had accumulated on the tree crowns trembled and occasionally fell in small cascades. Five tall black metal giants walked through the woods, their power armor making stealth impossible at this point.
At the back of the formation, two tall figures, the Bane brothers, carried the huge material transport box between them. Its weight was nothing to their augmented strength, but its bulk made navigation through the dense trees awkward.
Ahead of them, another black metal giant held a bolter in one hand. In the crook of his other arm sat a small boy, expression alive with excitement.
Kane couldn't contain himself. His eyes opened wide as saucers as his red, chapped hands explored the surface of Craig's power armor. He fumbled at the ceramite plating, traced the edges of servo mechanisms, touched everything within reach with the wonder of a child discovering treasure.
"Uncle! Uncle! Are you still recruiting people for your team? Can I wear such a cool armor when I grow up? I also want to become like Iron Man!"
The words tumbled out in a rush, barely paused for breath. Kane's enthusiasm was infectious, his voice carrying through the forest.
From the front of the formation, Nolan's response came without him turning around. His voice filtered through his helmet's external speakers, calm and matter-of-fact.
"First, I have Iron Man's armor. That thing has no special advantages except that it can fly."
He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "Second, the cool experience you think is a lifelong career. Once you join, you will not be allowed to retire unless you die in battle."
His tone carried weight, the gravity of truth. "Little Kane, if you can survive until that time and successfully join, you will understand what these words I said actually mean."
Kane's head bobbed up and down, the movement confused but accepting. "Oh, that's it, uncle, uncle..."
The boy tried his best to curl up more comfortably in Craig's arms, his mind already racing with new questions. His mouth opened, curiosity burning bright, ready to ask more.
Then the air changed.
A buzzing tremor cut through the icy atmosphere, a sound like angry hornets but deeper, more resonant. From the shadows of the woods, something launched.
A double-edged war spear, bronze-colored and gleaming, shot out from concealment. It flew through the air with deadly precision, aimed directly at Nolan's position. The weapon hummed as it cut through space, a killing strike meant to take the leader down.
Nolan's eyepiece locked onto the projectile in a fraction of a second. His helmet's targeting systems tracked the spear's trajectory, calculating speed, angle, impact point. The data flooded his awareness even as his body moved.
Electro-fiber bundles hummed throughout his armor. Servos engaged with subtle whines of power. Nolan suddenly activated his full strength, stepping forward with both magnetic boots hitting the ground in perfect synchronization.
His metal palm, wrapped in its ceramic shell, shot out. Fingers closed around the shaft of the double-edged spear mid-flight. The impact transferred through his arm, absorbed by the power armor's shock systems. He held it, the weapon vibrating slightly in his grip.
A voice rang out, clear and cold as a glacier. Female, young, filled with desperate determination. "Put Kane down!"
Nolan's metal helmet turned slightly, tracking the source. Behind a thick tree trunk not far away, a figure emerged into view.
A young woman stepped out from cover. Her long brown hair had been pulled back and tied into a practical braid that hung down her back. Her hands moved to her waist, fingers closing around the handle of a hunting knife. The blade slid free with a metallic whisper, its edge catching what little light filtered through the forest canopy.
She didn't hesitate. Didn't call out warnings or make demands. She simply launched herself forward, a desperate attack against an entire team of armored soldiers. Courage or madness, the line blurred completely.
The double-edged war spear in Nolan's palm began to move. He spun it with practiced ease, his tall body surging forward to meet her charge head-on. The bronze weapon became a blur, creating defensive patterns in the air.
His movements were calculated, efficient. The war spear whirled through attack sequences designed to block all her approach vectors. Each swing would force her back, disarm her, end this before blood was spilled.
But then Kane's voice shattered the moment.
"Stop fighting! Zora! They are good people! They saved me!"
The child's shrill cry echoed across the mountainside, so loud and desperate that nearby snow seemed to tremble. The words came rapid-fire, panic driving them out.
"Uncle! Uncle! That's my sister! She is also a rebel!"
Nolan's heavy steps stopped instantly. The war spear froze mid-swing, held motionless in his grip. Through his metal helmet, he stared at the young woman, Zora, who had also pulled back reflexively. Her body remained tense, knife still held ready, but she'd retreated several paces.
Vigilance radiated from every line of her posture.
Nolan shook his head, a gesture of bemused exasperation visible even through the armor. A sigh escaped him, amplified slightly by his helmet's speakers. "Are all people from Latveria so stupidly brave? What did you try to use? A spear?"
His voice carried a mix of frustration and grudging respect. Without waiting for an answer, he shifted his grip on the double-edged spear. His arm drew back, then threw.
The weapon spun through the air, bronze flashing in rotation. It flew back toward Zora with significant force.
She caught it skillfully, her hands finding the shaft with practiced ease. The weight and momentum barely fazed her, muscles absorbing the impact. She held her weapon again, its familiar weight grounding her.
But her eyes moved first to the black metal giant who had just set Kane gently on the ground. Craig's armored form stepped back, leaving the boy standing on his own feet. Kane looked unharmed, even happy.
Then Zora's gaze shifted, settling on Nolan. He stood almost within arm's reach now, close enough that she could see her reflection in his helmet's eyepiece. Her scrutiny was careful, analytical, searching for deception or threat.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Nolan's response was immediate and bold. "We are the savior of the resistance and the only organizational force that can cooperate with you on an equal footing." He let that declaration hang for a moment before continuing. "If you want to completely eradicate the Fortunov family and the Leviathan hidden behind them, and save today's Latveria, then our presence is the angel you desire so much!"
Through his eyepiece, he watched Zora's reaction closely. Her vigilance never diminished, not even slightly. He took a deep breath, the sound filtering through his helmet's respirators.
His tone shifted, becoming more businesslike. "Of course, I need to discuss the specific matters with the new leader of your resistance. I think that as long as a sane adult faces such a huge temptation, he will never refuse."
Zora's expression flickered. Her brows drew together, creating small lines between them. Hesitation warred with suspicion across her features. The internal debate was visible in the tension around her eyes, the slight pursing of her lips.
Could she trust these strangers? Should she? The resistance had been betrayed before. Trust was a luxury they could barely afford.
But then Kane moved, breaking the deadlock with the innocent directness only a child could manage. His short legs pumped as he trotted over to Zora, slightly unsteady on the snowy ground.
He reached carefully into his shabby clothing, extracting something precious. The half-eaten chocolate energy bar emerged, its wrapper crinkled and damp from being held close to his body. He held it up toward Zora, his face splitting into a brilliant smile.
"Zora! Look, it's chocolate!" His voice rang with pure joy. "That big uncle gave it to me when they rescued me, but I didn't want to finish it. I wanted to leave some for you to taste..."
The offering hung between them, a child's greatest treasure freely given.
"What a good boy." Zora's voice softened, the cold edge melting away. Her hand rose, settling gently on Kane's head. Her fingers ruffled his hair with genuine affection, the gesture automatic and warm.
Then slowly, deliberately, her eyes lifted. They locked onto Nolan's helmet eyepiece, staring into the dark lenses as though she could see through to the man beneath.
A long moment passed. Something shifted in her expression, a decision made.
"The current resistance army has nothing worthy of outsiders' covetousness." Her voice carried resignation, but also a thread of defiant pride. "If you don't believe it, just follow me!"
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