The Everlife Medical Center was surrounded on all sides. Armored vehicles lined the street, their headlights casting eerie beams through the light fog. Helicopters hovered above, their blades cutting through the silence like a warning. Soldiers stood in formation, rifles locked and loaded, their red laser sights painting dots across the clinic's façade.
The few remaining civilians had been evacuated, leaving behind an unnatural stillness before the inevitable storm.
General Thaddeus Ross stood at the front, his eyes narrowed as he studied the small medical facility. To him, this wasn't only a rundown clinic… it was a hiding place for Bruce Banner, the fugitive who had eluded him for far too long.
The Hulk was a weapon, and Ross intended to bring him in at any cost.
"General, the surrounding area has been secured. All residents evacuated."
"Good. Prepare for breach." Ross gave a sharp nod.
A young officer hesitated. "Sir, there's still a civilian inside. A doctor. Should we?"
"Banner is the priority. We storm the building in five seconds. No exceptions."
Ross raised his hand, his fingers curling into a fist as he began the countdown.
"Five."
The soldiers tensed, readying their weapons.
"Four."
The safety catches clicked off in unison.
"Three."
The whir of helicopter engines intensified overhead.
"Two!"
Every rifle was trained on the wooden doors of the clinic.
Just as Ross was about to say 'one'
Creaaak!
The sound of a wooden door slowly swinging open cut through the tension like a knife. Every soldier's finger hovered on their triggers as a lone figure stepped into the pale glow of the searchlights.
Soren Macaluso.
Dressed in his usual white coat, the doctor stood with an air of authority, his face impassive despite the dozens of guns pointed at him.
"Can I help you gentlemen?"
Ross stepped forward. "Soren Macaluso, owner of Everlife Medical Center."
His voice boomed over the microphone attached to the helicopter. "You are harboring a military fugitive. Surrender Bruce Banner now, or you will be treated as an accomplice."
Soren tilted his head slightly. "Bruce Banner?"
He mused, as if trying to recall the name. "Ah, I believe a patient fitting that description was treated here."
"Where is he?" Ross's eyes narrowed.
"I have no idea." Soren shrugged. "I don't ask my patients for their life stories. I'm a doctor, not an informant."
Ross clenched his fists. "Enough games. You're obstructing military justice. Kneel down with your hands behind your head, or we will open fire."
Soren's eyes darkened, and for the first time. "I don't take orders from people who barge into my home with guns drawn."
"Take him down." Ross waved his hand.
Several soldiers moved in, but before they could lay a hand on him, Soren vanished.
WHOOSH!
A blur of motion… then thud, thud, thud! Three soldiers flew backward, landing hard on the pavement, groaning in pain. Gasps rippled through the military ranks.
Ross's face twisted in shock. "What the?!"
Soren reappeared in the same spot, hands in his coat pockets as if he'd never moved. His voice, once calm, was now laced with frost.
"I don't like having guns pointed at me."
Ross hesitated for only a second before barking, "Fire!"
A barrage of bullets erupted, the air crackling with the sound of gunfire. Muzzle flashes illuminated the night, and the soldiers emptied their magazines in synchronized bursts.
But the bullets never reached their target.
Just inches from Soren's body, they froze in mid-air, suspended like a deadly rain caught in time. The soldiers watched in horror as the bullets trembled, then slowly rotated in place before coming to a complete stop.
Ross took a step back, his heart hammering. "What in God's name!?"
Soren's eyes gleamed. "I warned you."
Under Soren's full exertion, the weapons in all soldiers' hands became strangely stiff. No matter how hard they tried, their fingers simply wouldn't pull the triggers. A faint smugness formed on Soren's lips as he stepped forward, his presence alone sending a chill through the air. Then, in a wisp of blue smoke, he disappeared.
Before the soldiers could react, he was already among them.
Bang!
A single heavy punch landed on the first soldier, sending him sprawling to the ground. His body hit the pavement with a dull thud, unconscious before he even knew what happened.
Soren controlled his power masterfully. Each precise movement ended with a soldier crumpling to the ground. With rapid teleportation and unparalleled speed, he weaved through the ranks. To the outside observer, it seemed as though a ghost moved among them, striking with the force of a storm.
A chorus of pained groans filled the air.
In a matter of seconds, the soldiers who had raised their weapons against him were down. The ones still conscious could only clutch their bruised bodies in agony, utterly incapable of continuing the fight.
General Ross stood frozen.
"Attack!" Ross bellowed into his walkie-talkie, desperation seeping into his voice. "Kill him!"
From the helicopters above, powerful floodlights locked onto Soren. The deafening roar of Gatling gunfire followed.
Da-da-da-da-da!
The bullets rained down like a metallic storm, shredding the ground where he stood, or rather, where he had been standing. The moment the shots fired, Soren was gone.
To him, the world moved at a crawl. The blades of the helicopter spun lazily, and the muzzle flashes from the Gatling gun flickered like distant lightning. He leaped into the air, landing gracefully on the side of the helicopter.
Without hesitation, he ripped open the cockpit door, grabbed the pilot by his collar, and flung him out. The man barely had time to scream before Soren's Psychokinesis flared, crushing the helicopter's internal controls.
Thick smoke erupted from the aircraft. Moments later, it spiraled downward and crashed onto the street below with a deafening explosion.
Soren reappeared right in front of Ross, effortlessly carrying a salvaged Gatling gun on his shoulder. The general's breath hitched as he instinctively stepped back, sweat beading on his forehead.
Soren lifted the massive gun, aiming directly at him.
"Oh, let me return the favor." Soren said, a wicked glint in his eyes.
The gun roared to life. A relentless stream of bullets pounded the ground, encircling Ross in a tight formation. Dust and debris kicked up in every direction. Ross flinched, expecting pain. Yet when the shooting ceased, he realized he was unwounded.
Heart hammering against his ribs, he dared to look up. The street around him was riddled with bullet holes, forming a perfect ring… but not a single shot had hit him.
Soren let the empty gun clatter to the ground. "Playing with guns in front of me?"
Ross scrambled backward, only to trip and land hard on the pavement. His chest heaved as he stared up at Soren, who towered over him like an executioner.
Then, a crackle came from the walkie-talkie on Ross's belt.
"General! Colonel Blonsky has been pulled from the wreckage. Extensive burns and multiple fractures. Survival chances are slim. What are your orders?"
Ross barely processed the words, too fixated on the man before him. Soren, however, chuckled and plucked the walkie-talkie from Ross's belt. Bringing it to his lips, he pressed the button.
"Bring him here."
The soldier on the other end of the line, oblivious to the deception, responded promptly.
"Yes, sir!"
Ross's eyes widened in terror as Soren's smile deepened.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
Fellow Phantoms and aspiring Phantoms to be, if you seek to access advanced parts of this story procced to my shadowy realm of p@treon.
PhantomDream