The hallway outside the gym was littered with bodies and debris—cracked helmets, dropped rifles, smashed visors. I didn't even slow down. I snatched up a Hydra rifle from one of the fallen soldiers, slinging it over my back, then grabbed an extra pistol and a set of stun grenades from a broken belt.
I was fully armed now. For the first time since waking up, I felt like I had a chance. Not a good one—but a fighting one.
My boots echoed down the steel floor as I moved, fast and low. I didn't know where I was going, not exactly. But somewhere deep in my gut, something—some leftover instinct, maybe from Bucky, maybe just adrenaline—told me to go down.
Deeper.
Hydra never kept the real horrors upstairs.
I turned a corner, found a security door, and used a fallen officer's fingerprint to override the lock. It hissed open, revealing a stairwell that descended into flickering darkness.
I took it two steps at a time.
The lower levels were colder. The air was stale, like it hadn't moved in days. I passed by cracked glass, old cages, and walls scratched by something—someone—desperate to get out.
Then I found the prison.
Thick security doors lined the corridor, each one marked with numbers and Hydra logos. But what caught my eye were the windows—small, thick, reinforced. Inside each one, a person. Some looked human. Others… didn't.
They stared at me with hollow eyes, with glowing eyes, with eyes full of rage. Some banged against the glass when they saw me. Others didn't even flinch. Some looked young—teenagers. Others looked like they hadn't aged in years.
Test subjects.
Hydra was still playing god down here.
I looked up at the security panel. A simple control board. Locked, but not complicated. Bucky's knowledge came flooding in again—how to bypass codes, how to reroute power. My fingers danced across the panel.
"Warning," a voice echoed through the hall. "Containment breach in Sector 5."
Good.
The cell doors hissed. One by one, heavy metal doors opened, groaning like beasts exhaling after years of silence. The first prisoner staggered out—a girl with short white hair and glowing fingertips. She looked at me like she wasn't sure if I was a savior or another torturer.
I didn't wait for thanks. "Go. Now. Fight, run, whatever you want—just don't stay here."
More doors opened. A massive man with stone-like skin cracked his knuckles and snarled. A thin boy with red veins pulsing under his skin blinked and shot past me like a blur. I counted maybe twenty in all. Some of them immediately bolted. Others looked like they'd been waiting for payback.
I hoped they gave Hydra hell.
Because I wasn't sticking around.
I ducked into a side corridor while chaos erupted behind me—shouts, energy blasts, gunfire. A few unlucky guards ran toward the prison block and were swallowed up instantly by the stampede.
That should buy me a few minutes.
But I knew better than to relax. Hydra wasn't just one base. They were a network—a hydra in the true sense of the word. Cut off one head, two more show up with reinforcements and bigger guns.
I had to leave. Now. Before the real heat arrived.
A map screen flickered on a wall nearby, half-smashed, but still functional. I scanned it quickly. There—Hangar Access B4. It connected to an underground rail tunnel, probably used for transport or escape routes.
My new exit plan.
I turned, took off sprinting, heart hammering in my chest. Gun still in hand. The sounds of screaming, roaring, and metal twisting behind me were both terrifying and satisfying.
Let Hydra deal with their monsters for a while.
I had to survive.
I had to escape.
And then—I'd burn this entire place to the ground.