In this serene and beautiful place, the morning light slowly spilled across Nathan Hawk's face. He sat in the garden, holding a cup of fragrant tea, gently swirling it in his hands. The aroma wafted around him, adding a warm hue to the tranquil scene. His gaze rested on the eastern sky as the first rays of dawn rose slowly, forming a soft halo over his features.
The courtyard garden was exquisitely arranged, with lush green grass and blooming flowers, emitting the fresh scent of blossoms mingled with morning dew. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, composing a delicate symphony that enhanced the serenity of the moment.
Nathan set his cup down lightly, brushed his hair back, and a faint smile appeared on his face, warm and radiant like the morning sun. His eyes grew calm and deep, as if contemplating something, his inner turmoil gradually settling in this peaceful environment.
Yet, as he soaked in the tranquility, a figure began to appear in his vision—a transcendent sorcerer, the Ancient One.
"The tea here is excellent," Nathan said, smiling as he gently swirled his cup.
"Really? Then I'll have to ask Mr. Wang for some," Gu Yi replied with a laugh, casually taking a seat. "It's quite pungent; I could smell it from afar."
"Your senses are incredible; you can even detect my battle aura," Nathan said, impressed.
The Ancient One raised an eyebrow, jokingly, "Though its strength is mild, the predatory killing aura is unmistakably intense."
Their conversation flowed easily, like old friends catching up. Nathan couldn't resist bringing up the person he had encountered in his last battle.
"I met Peter Parker. Master, you must have heard of him," Nathan said, turning to gaze at the rising sun.
The Ancient One's expression flickered briefly, then grew serious. "I know him. He is Spider-Man, a brave young superhero."
"Yes, he was the instigator of this incident," Nathan nodded, beginning to recount his encounter and battle with Peter Parker.
The Ancient One fell silent, eyes reflecting a complex emotion. "Peter Parker… he is a young man full of responsibility, yet prone to trouble. You nearly killed him, but in the end, he was saved," the Ancient One said softly.
Nathan nodded, recalling the moment with deep introspection. "Yes, I was almost determined to end him."
At that time, his fatal strike had been poised to pierce Peter's heart—but Weng and Doctor Octopus intervened.
Watching the unconscious Peter Parker being carried away, Nathan naturally moved to repair the spatial rift.
Elsewhere, in a room resembling a hospital ward, soft light filtered through half-closed curtains, creating a warm, peaceful atmosphere. Tony Stark lay on a white bed, his brow furrowed, consciousness gradually returning.
He blinked slowly, adjusting to the light and his surroundings. The faint scent of medicine lingered in the air, blending with the fresh ambiance of the room, like a tranquil dream.
Tony's gaze wandered over the simple yet comfortable room. Elegant paintings hung on the walls, and a bouquet of flowers rested on the bedside table, adding to the calm. He looked out the window, the distant scenery unfolding like a serene painting.
A doctor entered, smiling and nodding. "Mr. Stark, you were unconscious for some time, but you are now recovering."
"I…" Tony nodded, still dazed. He tried to sit up but felt drained, as if he had just survived a brutal battle. Squinting, he struggled to recall recent events.
"What happened? I remember being with Aldrich." Tony's brow furrowed as he tried to piece it together, then froze.
"Aldrich! Pepper!" Tony jumped upright.
Pain shot through him as he moved, like countless needles piercing his body. He gasped, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. His breathing quickened, as if an invisible force held him down.
The doctor stepped forward, gently examining him. "Mr. Stark, please relax. Your body is adjusting to recovery."
Tony slowly released his grip on the sheets. Breathing heavily, he clenched his teeth, suppressing the deep pain coursing through him. He gradually lay back down.
The doctor checked his pulse, then offered a reassuring smile. "Recovery takes time. You suffered a serious injury, but fortunately, you are healing."
Tony found the explanation vague, still struggling to process his thoughts. Fragments of memory flashed in his mind—confrontations with Aldrich, Pepper's presence.
"Where… am I?" he asked.
"You'll know soon enough," the doctor replied, leaving after confirming his recovery was progressing well.
Later, Andre entered, curious. "Wow, your injuries healed remarkably fast."
"Who are you?" Tony frowned, then remembered. "You're Super V. So this is Hawk Group's base?"
"That's right. You were unconscious when I arrived, so I brought you here," Andre said. "I even went to your home to inform your AI—we almost fought."
Tony found this odd. "Then why didn't you just leave me at home?"
"Because your recovery is faster here," Andre replied matter-of-factly.
Tony muttered quietly, contemplating. If Andre hadn't brought him here, perhaps only the lethal virus could have accelerated his recovery.
"Can I ask you a favor?" Tony said.
Andre raised an eyebrow, sensing something extraordinary. "Are you really the Tony Stark I know?"
"Do you think so?" Tony replied, annoyed.
Andre waved dismissively. "Alright, go ahead. I'm listening."
Relieved by Andre's agreement, Tony continued. "It's about Pepper…"
"Don't worry about your girlfriend. Zed and Electro are handling the crisis virus perfectly," Andre reassured him, dismissing Tony's concern with a wave.
In a top-secret HYDRA base, Madame Hydra sat gracefully in a command chair, an image of cold elegance and authority. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, the black gown accentuating her curves. Her sharp, intelligent eyes betrayed cunning and decisiveness.
She lightly tapped the control console, watching screens displaying superpowered operatives and assembling forces. Her plan was complete—only the final step remained.
"Commence the full-scale attack," she commanded, icy and resolute.
The command center sprang into tense activity. Operators deployed forces with precision. Screen by screen, elite operatives and superpowered mercenaries advanced toward key Hawk Group locations—a carefully choreographed dance of death.
A sly smile played on Madame Hydra's lips. Superheroes, she believed, were doomed to fail, and her plan would leave them in utter despair.
Meanwhile, her schemes extended beyond the battlefield. She manipulated media to turn public opinion against superheroes, undermining their credibility and support.
The superheroes were busy fighting the emergent crisis virus, oblivious to HYDRA's deeper strategy. Madame Hydra's cold eyes glimmered with cunning, her foresight encompassing every move.
"Nathan Hawk… what charisma allows these superheroes to follow you? Or are you just a puppet, controlled by someone else?"
"I can't wait to see. When I walk victorious, will you fall under my influence and reveal Hawk Group's superhero secrets?"
In this world of intrigue and conflict, Madame Hydra's web of schemes quietly spread, poised for a final harvest. Superheroes and Hawk Group alike were stepping into her trap, toward the brink of destruction. And she, the mastermind, would savor her victory in the shadows.
"The web has been set."
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