Nolan descended the stairs with careful deliberation, each step measured and quiet despite his armor's bulk.
Behind him, the secret door sealed itself with a pneumatic hiss. Voice-activated lights flickered on as he progressed, tracking his movement down the passage.
The base was active. Maintained. Occupied.
His vigilance increased accordingly.
One armored hand gripped the plasma pistol. His finger rested alongside the trigger guard, ready but disciplined.
He counted steps, calculating depth. After several minutes, he estimated he'd descended roughly fifteen meters below ground level. Deep enough to hide from casual detection. Deep enough to require serious commitment to conceal.
The stairs ended at a narrow corridor. Emergency exit signs in faded red marked the walls. Clearly not the main entrance, then. A back door for evacuation scenarios.
Nolan moved forward until a heavy metal door blocked his path. He tilted his head back, examining the security camera mounted above.
"David, give me a sitrep on the interior."
"One moment, my lord." Brief pause for processing. "The facility appears to follow a zigzag floor plan. Outer sections contain individual rooms storing medical equipment. The central area houses what appears to be a sealed laboratory, though without internal cameras, I cannot provide details on its contents."
"Personnel count?"
"Thirty-one individuals currently present. Twenty-five security personnel, six in medical or research roles based on movement patterns and room assignments."
Nolan frowned behind his helmet. "That's all? Maybe this facility's been abandoned. Skeleton crew guarding empty rooms."
"Possible, my lord. Should I attempt to open the door?"
"Yes, do it."
Another pause. This one longer.
"My lord, the door can only be opened manually. The release mechanism is located on the interior side. I have no access."
Nolan sighed. "Of course it is. Fine. I'll make my own entrance."
He backed up several meters, giving himself room to work. He activated the Refractor Field Generator, feeling the subtle distortion field shimmer to life around him. Extra protection never hurt.
Then he drew the chainsword from his back, the weight familiar in his grip. He didn't activate it yet. No need to waste fuel.
Finally, he raised the plasma pistol and fired.
The weapon spat superheated projectiles in rapid succession. Each plasma ball struck the metal door with tremendous force, energy dispersing in brilliant blue-white flashes.
The door began to melt. Metal ran like water, glowing orange-red, then white. Structural integrity compromised. Slag dripping to the floor.
An alarm shrieked for perhaps two seconds before David killed it remotely. But the damage was done. Everyone inside knew something was wrong.
Through the molten hole in the door, Nolan heard shouting.
"What the hell was that?!"
"Emergency exit! Something's at the emergency exit!"
"Level two alert! We have an intruder! All security to defensive positions!"
Footsteps pounded. Men shouting orders, coordinating response.
Nolan waited, counting seconds. Letting them bunch up in the corridor. Making it easier.
Then he charged.
His armored bulk smashed through the weakened door, tearing it completely from its frame. Metal screeched. The door crashed to the floor with a deafening clang.
Nolan exploded into the corridor beyond.
The security team's captain led the response, rushing forward with weapon raised. He caught a glimpse of strange armor, a pistol that glowed with internal heat, and a chainsword that roared to life with a shriek of spinning teeth.
Then his head separated from his shoulders.
Nolan's chainsword cut through flesh and bone like they were nothing. The blade's teeth chewed through the captain's neck in a spray of blood that painted the walls, the ceiling, everything within three meters.
The corpse hadn't finished falling before Nolan fired the plasma pistol.
Point-blank range. Multiple guards clustered together. Perfect targets.
The plasma detonated among them. Superheated matter expanded instantly, flash-cooking flesh. Three men simply ceased to exist, reduced to ash and carbon stains.
The survivors tried to return fire. Tried to coordinate, to fall back, to do anything tactical.
Nolan didn't give them time.
He waded into them like a harvester through wheat. The chainsword rose and fell, left and right, the screaming teeth finding throats, limbs, torsos. Each swing drew arterial spray. Each impact left bodies or pieces of bodies in his wake.
The guards died screaming. Or died silent. Or died begging. It didn't matter which.
Thirty seconds. That's how long it took.
Nolan stood in a corridor painted red, surrounded by the dead and dying. The chainsword's motor idled, teeth still spinning lazily, dripping.
He surveyed his work with cold efficiency. Several guards still moved, clutching mortal wounds, trying to crawl away or simply suffering.
Nolan raised the plasma pistol and fired methodically. Each shot ended a life with merciful finality.
When the last guard stopped twitching, he lowered the weapon and continued forward.
Around the next corner, he found them.
Five people in white lab coats, pressed against another sealed door. They scrabbled at the access panel with desperate fingers, trying combinations, override codes, anything that might open their escape route.
The sound of his approach froze them mid-motion.
They turned as one and saw him. Massive. Armored. Covered in blood that wasn't his. Carrying weapons still hot from use.
Their faces went through shock, terror, and resignation in rapid succession.
They collapsed against the wall, huddling together. Two of them began crying. Loud, gasping sobs of people who knew they were about to die.
"I don't want to die," one woman wailed. "Please, I don't want to die..."
Nolan's frown deepened. He swung the chainsword in a sharp arc, flinging blood across the floor. Then he activated the starter motor.
The saw teeth screamed to full speed. The sound was deafening in the enclosed space.
The crying stopped instantly. Five pairs of eyes fixed on him with absolute focus.
"First question." Nolan's voice emerged flat and emotionless from his helmet's vox-speaker. "Does this facility belong to Roxxon Industries?"
The five medical staff exchanged glances. Some communication passed between them without words. Then they all looked away, staying silent.
Nolan took a step forward, chainsword raised.
"Wait!" A brown-haired woman in her thirties thrust her arm up, hand shaking. Tears still wet on her face. "Wait, please. Yes. This is a Roxxon Industries black site. One of the oldest. Been operating since the forties."
"I can guarantee your safety if you cooperate." Nolan lowered the chainsword slightly but kept it running. He pointed it at the four others. "But only if you all cooperate. Understand?"
They nodded frantically.
"Good. Keep talking."
The brown-haired woman swallowed hard. "I'm just medical staff. I don't have clearance for everything. But I know the basic history."
She took a shaky breath.
"After World War Two, Roxxon wanted to recreate the Super Soldier Serum. You know, the one that created Captain America? They hired scientists, threw money at the problem, tried everything."
"Did they succeed?"
"I... I don't know. Maybe? But at some point, they changed direction entirely. Someone gave them new guidance. New research. Outside help from somewhere. They abandoned trying to copy Erskine's formula and developed something completely different."
Her voice gained a little strength as she fell into familiar territory, reciting facts she'd memorized.
"What they created was better than the serum. More versatile. More powerful. Decades of research, continuous refinement, iterative improvements. The internal designation for the final product is..."
She paused, meeting Nolan's hidden eyes through his helmet.
"Compound V."