In Marvel With My Gacha System

Chapter 21: The Ghost of HYDRA – Or, "So, They're Like Super-Nazis, But Sneakier. Great."

The serene facade of the New Avengers Compound was, to Adam, merely a temporary lull. He'd survived the Battle of New York, dismantled HYDRA's S.H.I.E.L.D. infiltration, and narrowly avoided a city-sized meteor shower courtesy of a genocidal robot. Now, he felt the familiar hum of foreboding, a specific itch in his meta-sense that indicated the next major plot point was looming. And that plot point, unfortunately, was more HYDRA.

' Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the global intelligence pool, turns out the super-Nazis decided to play whack-a-mole. Figures. They're like cockroaches with better fashion sense. And a penchant for world domination. My personal favorite kind of cockroach. Sarcasm, Adam. It's what keeps you sane. Or insane. Jury's still out. '

Days at the Compound settled into a routine of training, debriefings (where Adam continued to provide hilariously vague explanations for his powers), and quality time with Wanda. Their relationship was a quiet comfort, a growing warmth amidst the cold calculus of world-saving. Wanda was slowly opening up, her powers becoming more controlled, her laughter more frequent. Pietro, still restless, often zoomed off on solo runs, but even he seemed a little less guarded around Adam.

The intel started trickling in. Classified reports flashed across Stark's holographic screens, whispered conversations drifted through the comms. Fragmented data points, seemingly unrelated, but in Adam's meta-mind, they formed a chilling mosaic. A sudden spike in black market arms deals in Eastern Europe. Unexplained disappearances of scientists specializing in genetics and AI. Covert meetings between shadowy figures in old industrial complexes. Each was a dot; Adam's meta-knowledge connected them into a menacing line: HYDRA was rebuilding. Not as a global organization, but as scattered, isolated cells, festering in the shadows.

He overheard Natasha talking to Steve about a "resurgence of an old ideology." Bruce was poring over schematics of what looked suspiciously like old HYDRA tech. Tony was muttering about "undetected network activity" in deep web forums.

"Alright, JARVIS," Tony barked one morning, slamming a mug of questionable coffee down. "Cross-reference all recent anomalies with known HYDRA signatures. I want every lead, every whisper, every hint that those creepy fanatics are still crawling out of the woodwork."

"Certainly, sir," JARVIS replied, his sassy tone undiminished. "Though, one might argue, given their historical propensity for 'crawling out of the woodwork,' it is less an 'anomaly' and more their default setting. My calculations indicate a 97.3% probability that they are, indeed, still 'crawling,' likely in a particularly insidious and inconvenient manner."

Adam, leaning against a doorframe, smirked. JARVIS truly was a gem. "See, Tony? Even your AI gets it. HYDRA's like that annoying pop-up ad you can never quite close. Always there, always trying to sell you something you don't want, like world domination or really bad fashion choices."

Tony merely groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Adam felt a familiar flicker in his internal interface. A system notification. He discreetly checked it.

[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: Plot Event: Major Arc initiated (Arc 2: The HYDRA Prank War). Rare Draw unlocked! ]

' Oh, snap! A Rare Draw just for starting a new arc? The system's feeling generous today! Alright, universe, give me something good. Something that says 'I'm ready to fight super-Nazis with extreme prejudice.' Or, you know, just something that makes a lot of noise. '

He tapped the "Draw" button, a wave of anticipation washing over him. The Rare Draw animation swirled, then resolved into a single, ominous-looking card.

[ SYSTEM MESSAGE: [Rare Item] Tactical Nuke (Fallout) acquired. Small, but extremely potent. Requires careful handling. (Recipient: Adam's Inventory). ]

Adam stared at the card, his jaw dropping. He blinked. Then he blinked again. ' A… a tactical nuke? From Fallout? You're telling me I just got a miniature nuclear bomb? A device designed to level a small city, or at least cause a very, very bad day for anyone in its immediate vicinity? The system is either trying to kill me, or it has a truly bizarre sense of humor. Probably both. '

He pulled the item into his hand. It was surprisingly small, no larger than his palm, a sleek, metallic cylinder with a single, glowing red button. It felt heavy, impossibly dense, buzzing with latent energy. He could almost hear the distant, ironic 'boom' of nuclear annihilation.

' Okay, Stiels. Think. A tactical nuke. Not for destroying cities. Definitely not for destroying cities. Maybe… maybe for making a really, really loud bang? Or clearing out a very stubborn traffic jam? Or for the ultimate mic drop? "And for my next trick, I will make this entire building… disappear!" No. Bad Adam. Very bad Adam. '

He quickly tucked the mini-nuke into a secure, extradimensional pocket within Newt's Suitcase, furthest away from any immediate access. He wasn't about to accidentally vaporize the Avengers Compound. Or himself.

This new acquisition, however, solidified his resolve. HYDRA wasn't just a threat; they were a target. And Adam had just been given the ultimate, albeit utterly insane, tool for disruption. He wouldn't use it for destruction, of course. But the threat of a tactical nuke? The sheer psychological impact of knowing someone could have such a device? That was a prank in itself. A very, very high-stakes prank.

He started listening more intently during briefings. He meticulously logged every piece of information about suspected HYDRA cells: their locations, their modus operandi, their leadership. He wasn't a soldier, but he was a strategist of chaos. And HYDRA, with their rigid hierarchy and predictable evil, was ripe for exploitation.

His mind began to formulate plans. Not plans for frontal assaults or lethal takedowns, but for something far more insidious, far more Adam Stiels. He envisioned operations involving accidental environmental transformations, widespread temporal confusion, and perhaps, a touch of public humiliation. HYDRA thrived in the shadows, in their secrecy and order. Adam would bring them into the light, expose their absurdity, and disrupt their order with pure, unadulterated pandemonium.

He found Wanda in the training room, practicing her energy blasts. "Hey," he said, walking in. "You know anything about nuclear physics? Just, uh, curious. For a friend. Who might have accidentally acquired something… glowy."

Wanda paused, her brow furrowed. "Only what HYDRA taught me. It is… dangerous."

"Extremely," Adam agreed, nodding vigorously. "Which is why it needs to be handled by someone with extreme caution. Or, you know, extreme common sense. Which, between you and me, is sometimes in short supply around here." He didn't elaborate, but the knowing glance he shared with Wanda implied a level of trust. He couldn't tell her everything, but he could share the burden of the absurd.

The fight against HYDRA wasn't just about stopping a global threat; it was about proving that his chaotic methods, his blend of humor and power, could actually make a difference. And with a tactical nuke in his back pocket (figuratively speaking), Adam was ready to declare war. A prank war. Against the super-Nazis.

' Let the games begin. And may the odds be ever in my favor. Preferably, with no accidental mushroom clouds involved. '

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