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Marvel: King of The Swarm Chapter 80: Masks Off (IV)
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 21:21:09 +0000 UTCCrimson didn't so much as run at the mercenaries as she pushed off the floor and sent herself flying towards them, her long scarlet hair streaming behind her like a cape. To their credit, the mercenaries didn't immediately turn tail and flee; instead, they reloaded their rifles with efficiency as they slowly began to give ground, walking back while firing at the black and scarlet streak that was Crimson.
Most of their bullets lagged behind her blistering speed as she used the floor and the walls like springboards, bouncing back and forth, not because she feared getting hit, but to test the limits of and adjust herself to her new body. Even the most complex movements were effortless, and Crimson felt her body and mind merge as she slowly removed the limiters on how quickly her brain could process information, making use of the organic machinery that had been implanted into her body.
Hearing the click of a gun dry firing, Crimson's head snapped up as her eyes locked onto the unfortunate individual. With another explosive lunge, Crimson abandoned her evasive approach and launched herself directly at the mercenary.
Realizing that there wasn't time to reload, the man dropped his rifle and instead grabbed the combat knife holstered under his arm, unsheathing it to reveal six inches of razor-sharp steel. Despite Crimson's speed, the man timed his attack just right, flipping his knife around into a reverse grip and bringing the point down in a savage arc.
A dull tingle of caution rippled through Crimson's body, and with a thought, she removed the very last limiter on her mind and watched as the world around her came to a near-dead stop. Viewing the entire world around her in a standstill, Crimson took note of the knife perfectly aimed to slide into her neck, right between her chestplate and helmet, where the armor would have been weakest had it been constructed from metal and bindings.
Staring at the knife and the mercenary's stance, a hundred counter maneuvers played through her mind, each one painfully drilled into her by Silvija, who seemed to take pleasure in leaving her covered in bruises. She could have just let the knife shatter against her Symbiote armor, but that was her being cocky, and Silvija had ensured that with each unblocked punch, she beat the ego out of Crimson.
Extending her arm, Crimson pushed the mercenary's wrist with the back of her hand, ensuring the knife would hit only air. At the same time, she planted her lead foot firmly on the ground and swung her battleaxe with all her might.
The symbiote blade barely paused as it met flesh and bone, and Crimson watched impassively as the blade carved its way up from the mercenary's hip across his torso and finally exited his body at the opposite shoulder. The cut had been so clean and so fast that the mercenary remained unmoved and unaware that he had been split in twain.
'Justification of deadly force, castle doctrine, applies in places of residency under imminent threat or bodily harm without a duty of retreat as long as the individual using deadly force is not the initial aggressor.'
Spinning around with the momentum of her savage cleave, Crimson cited one of the countless lines of legal text she had been made to memorize to ensure that at all times she operated within the confines of the law.
As for her justification for killing another human, Crimson was a hero who would protect the innocent who relied on her. The mercenaries in front of her weren't even criminals due to circumstance; they had come to carry out a job that would have resulted in untold death and destruction. Why should Crimson show them any modicum of mercy?
Completing her spin, Crimson was moving the instant both her feet were back on the floor as she dashed towards the next mercenary, who had still yet to react, his mind unable to respond and convey information fast enough for him to react.
And he never would get the chance to, as Crimson's axe caught him across the waist before she twisted her arm, turning the axe around into a backhanded swing that carved his chest open.
'Three left.'
Crimson noted as she glanced at the trio left standing, seeing that they had begun to move slowly, keeping pace with her movements. Realizing that she wouldn't have enough time to dispatch all of them with her axe, Crimson extended her left hand, clenching her clawed fingers into a fist as the armor around her wrist swelled and bulged like a blocked pipe buckling under pressure. Once the pressure was enough, Crimson opened her fist, shooting out a dense spike of symbiote that pierced through the air faster than any bullet, catching one of the remaining mercenaries in the center of his forehead.
Crimson then gripped her axe with both hands and threw it with all her might, sending the massive blade pinwheeling through the air where it embedded itself into the floor after cutting through the mercenary that had happened to be standing in the way.
Coming to stand in front of the final mercenary, Crimson slammed the limiter back down on her mind and watched as time resumed, letting the impact of her attacks take effect.
Cries of agony ripped through the air, followed by the sloshing of blood as it spattered against the floor, and dismembered body parts dropped lifelessly to the ground.
Already knowing everything that was taking place, Crimson instead chose to watch the last mercenary's eyes grow in fear and shock as, from his perspective, his four comrades had died in the blink of an eye.
He then fearfully looked up at Crimson, who loomed over him unmoving, and his lips twitched once as he muttered his final words, "Hail Hydra."
With a loud crunch, Crimson's fist shattered the man's sternum and sent him flying down the hallway and into the far wall just in time to be witnessed by the rest of the mercenary squad as they came around the corner and witnessed the massacre their comrades had suffered at Crimson's hands.
Staring them down, Crimson held out her hand and formed another axe that she dragged against the floor as she slowly strode towards the scum.
---
The steady drip of Harry's blood against the floor punctuated the pause in between his torturer's ragged breath as she staggered back, specks of scarlet now decorating her solid green apparel.
"C-careful now...k-keep it up at this rate a-and you're gonna end up hurting y-yourself," Harry chastised before breaking into a wet gurgling coughing fit, somehow conscious even with his horrific injuries, that left him with an empty eye socket, a couple of broken ribs, various puncture wounds and half of his digits, including toes and fingers chopped off.
His captor's lips twisted in a snarl as she pulled her fist back and punched Harry in the face with a loud crack, turning his nose into a flattened mess of bone and cartilage. Harry's head snapped back from the punch, and a soft groan of pain escaped his lips, coming out nasally and muffled with his nose now a mangled mess. But then his head dropped, hiding his ruined face as his body started to shake.
Watching him, the woman in green blinked before a bloodthirsty smile spread across her face, "Have you finally had enough? Talk quickly, and I'll put you out of your misery."
However, instead of spilling his secrets, Harry's tremor intensified as he lifted his head to reveal a smile across his face with manic laughter bubbling from his split and bleeding lips, "It was nice to feel pain again in this body one last time before doing away with it."
Harry let out a long sigh as a golden light lit up from underneath his skin, sending his captor stumbling back in shock, watching as Harry's face began to shift. The blood across Harry's body dried and flaked off, his skin knit back together, his nose retired without the slightest crook, and his empty eye socket filled back in with a perfect amber orb.
With a gentle push, Harry snapped the ropes holding him down and sighed in relief as he reached up and rubbed his wrists, "You can proudly take pride in the fact that you were my second most painful encounter, though you fell rather short for first place. Though I imagine it's hard to top the feeling of every cell in your body tearing itself apart and then patching itself together over and over again nonstop for three years, even for your Madame Viper."
The moment Harry broke free of his bindings, Viper's two guards snapped to attention, striding forward, putting themselves between Harry and their leader as they leveled their submachine guns at Harry.
"It took me longer than expected to read your mind without wanting to brute force it, but I'm afraid my other ego is going to want you in one piece." Harry crossed his legs and waved his hand dismissively to the side, sending the two guards flying across the ground and pinning them against the wall.
Much to her credit, Viper didn't flee and instead threw herself at Harry, bearing literal inch-long fangs. But before she could inject Harry with the lethal venom, an invisible force froze around her body before lifting her into the air.
"That's gonna cost you a rib," Harry muttered as he rose from his chair and placed his thumb on Viper's side before gently pushing.
A loud crack echoed in the room, and Viper's eyes widened, but she managed to muffle her scream of pain with a grunt.
Harry stared into her defiant eyes before cocking his head to the side as if in deep thought, "Surely he won't mind if I rough you up just a little bit. After all, it should make it easier for him to warp your mind."
Viper said nothing in response, instead staring at Harry with a boiling hatred, silently accepting his challenge, which only made Harry smile more as he moved his hand from Viper's rib to the center of her chest, "Here, let me show you what first place feels like."
