The deafening roar of cannon fire filled the air.
But one by one, the shells were intercepted—pierced mid-flight by precise arrows—detonating prematurely before they could strike their target.
The building remained untouched.
Instead, the sky was set ablaze, fire and smoke painting the daylight into a scene of nightmarish brilliance.
The sight left everyone in stunned silence.
Not just the citizens of New York, who watched with wide eyes and pounding hearts—
Even the Hydra operatives who had fired those shells stood frozen, their fingers still clutching their triggers, their expressions twisted in disbelief.
Terror crept into their veins.
Their opponent had neutralized a barrage of explosives—
With nothing but arrows.
"This... this isn't possible..."
Before they could process the reality of their situation—
Thunk!
An arrow whistled through the air, burying itself deep into the skull of one soldier.
His body went limp, pinned against the wall by the force of the shot.
The arrow's shaft still quivered, the impact vibrating through the silence.
Shock rippled through the ranks.
Someone gasped.
"He's looking at us!"
"Be careful!"
Panic set in.
The moment they locked eyes with Green Arrow, a cold shiver ran down their spines.
His gaze—sharp and merciless—felt like a blade pressing against their throats.
"Attack!" the Hydra leader barked.
But—
They were too slow.
Green Arrow had already vanished into the smoke, his silhouette a flicker of movement against the chaos.
Then—
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
In the span of a heartbeat, three arrows shot forward.
Each found its mark.
Three Hydra soldiers collapsed, arrows lodged deep in their chests.
But before they could even hit the ground—
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
A high-pitched alarm blared from the arrows.
Someone's eyes widened in horror.
"They're rigged!"
"Move! NOW!"
Pure panic erupted among the remaining Hydra agents.
It didn't matter how devoted they were to their cause—
No one wanted to die for nothing.
BOOM!
The arrows exploded simultaneously.
A violent shockwave tore through the room, sending bodies flying like ragdolls.
Shattered glass rained down in deadly shards, piercing flesh and cutting deep.
One unlucky soldier, spared by the blast, clutched his throat—only to realize a jagged piece of glass had slit it open.
His last breath gurgled out as he collapsed, eyes still wide with unspoken words.
And then—
Through the lingering flames and swirling embers—
A shadow emerged.
Slow. Unshaken.
Green Arrow walked forward, unbothered by the heat licking at his boots, his expression unreadable.
He glanced at the scattered bodies.
A few were still groaning.
He sighed.
"I was going to wait until I dealt with Mitchell Carson before handling you all."
His voice was calm, almost casual.
"But you're starting to get on my nerves."
The Hydra operatives who remained conscious could only stare, paralyzed by fear.
Green Arrow reached for another arrow.
"So, I'm afraid you'll have to die first."
And with that, he let it fly.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Green Arrow reached into his seemingly endless quiver, drawing an arrow in one swift motion.
With deadly precision, he let it fly.
The razor-sharp tip pierced through the throat of a Hydra operative.
Then another.
Then another.
Blood spurted violently, painting the walls in crimson streaks.
One soldier, barely clinging to his senses, raised his gun—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Desperate shots rang out, aimed directly at Green Arrow.
But—
The bullets bounced harmlessly off his suit.
He stood motionless, watching them struggle.
The realization hit them like a sledgehammer.
Their weapons were useless.
And their deaths were inevitable.
Within moments, three Hydra operatives lay lifeless on the ground.
This gruesome outcome was transmitted live—straight to the hidden surveillance cameras tucked in the corners of the room.
And on the other side of those screens, the remaining Hydra agents watched in horror.
Silence filled the air.
Then—
"How... how is this possible?"
"Since when was Green Arrow this strong?"
Their hands trembled.
The opponent they had once considered easy prey was now cutting them down with terrifying ease.
And then—
One of them noticed something.
"Wait... is he looking at us?"
Their breath caught in their throats.
On the surveillance screen, Green Arrow's cold, unyielding gaze locked onto the camera.
As if—
As if he could see them through the lens.
A shiver ran down their spines.
They weren't just being hunted.
They were already caught.
Meanwhile, Green Arrow remained still, but his perspective was not his own.
He was seeing through the eyes of Anton.
From within his summoned steel-boned battle suit, Anton's advanced hacking abilities had already infiltrated the network in the area.
Every Hydra operative.
Every movement.
Every attempt at escape.
Nothing was beyond his sight.
Mitchell Carson, no matter where he hid—
The mercenaries sent by Darren Kraus—
Even the approaching military response—
All of them were under Anton's surveillance.
There was no way out.
Mitchell Carson was already a trapped rat.
And as for Hydra? It was time to deliver the killing blow.
A cold smirk touched Anton's lips.
Then—
He moved.
Elsewhere.
The New York Police Department's task force had deployed, moving quickly toward the scene.
At the same time—
Darren Kraus' international mercenary team had arrived, setting up near the building, preparing to strike.
Then—
A sudden beep sounded on the Turtles' bracelets.
A message from Anton flashed across the screen.
The four Turtles exchanged glances.
Understanding passed between them in an instant.
"Oh?"
A grin spread across their faces.
"Looks like it's showtime."
"Finally, we're not late for the action!"
"The NYPD isn't just gonna clean up after this one!"
"Let's move, brothers!"
Excitement surged through them.
With a roar, they launched into action—
Their armored vehicle screeched through the air in a dramatic turn, landing near the battlefield with a thunderous crash.
CRACK!
The impact shattered the pavement beneath them.
And then—
The Turtles charged.
Armed and ready, they rushed straight into the fight, crashing into the mercenaries with overwhelming force.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Gunfire erupted.
Bullets rained down like a storm.
But the Turtles barely flinched.
With thick shells and brute strength, they tore through the mercenary ranks, sending enemies flying like ragdolls.
And as the NYPD task force closed in, flanking the enemy—
The battle escalated into pure chaos.
Across the street, hidden behind shattered windows and overturned furniture, New Yorkers who hadn't managed to escape peered out in awe.
Their breaths were hushed.
Their hearts pounded.
And then—
The cheering started.
Quiet at first.
But growing louder.
They weren't just watching a fight.
They were witnessing heroes in action.
The Turtles—
Members of the Justice League.
And once again—
They did not disappoint.
Green Arrow moved swiftly through the building, closing in on the remaining Hydra operatives.
One enemy per arrow.
Occasionally, he took down two with a single shot.
And with explosive arrows—his enemies fell even faster.
The Hydra agents were on the verge of despair.
To them, Arrow wasn't just a man.
He was death incarnate.
A relentless reaper, cutting them down one by one.
The entire floor had become his stage.
And his enemies?
Helpless spectators, waiting for their turn to die.
At this point, the remaining Hydra operatives posed no threat to him.
Green Arrow may not have been the most powerful member of the Justice League, but against unenhanced humans like these, he was an overwhelming force.
Even so, Anton had taken precautions.
Knowing Green Arrow's physical limitations compared to other heroes, Anton had sought out the brightest minds—Reed Richards, Dr. Lizard, Bruce Banner, and others—establishing a covert research lab in the city's sewers.
Their mission?
To develop a specialized fiber to reinforce the Justice League's suits.
This fiber would be woven into the uniforms of heroes like Spider-Man, who, without the financial backing of Tony Stark in this universe, lacked high-tech gear.
In the original timeline, Peter Parker had Tony's resources.
But here?
His only suit was one he'd stitched together using his own webbing.
Anton decided that had to change.
Under the combined expertise of Reed Richards and the others, the fiber was developed in record time.
And this battle?
It was the perfect field test.
Anton had equipped Green Arrow with a suit reinforced by the new fiber to evaluate its durability under real combat conditions.
So far?
The results were more than satisfactory.
The suit's enhancements, combined with Green Arrow's peak human skills, made him an unstoppable force.
Duh-duh-duh!
Gunfire erupted once again.
Muzzle flashes lit up the darkened hallways.
Bullets—thick as peanut grains—slammed into Green Arrow's suit.
But—
They did nothing.
He didn't even flinch.
The Hydra agents froze in terror.
Despair sank its claws into their chests.
And then—
Chi! Chi! Chi!
One by one, they fell.
Blood pooled across the floor, their bodies motionless.
At the same time, in a hidden corner of the building, Mitchell Carson clutched his phone, watching the scene unfold on a surveillance monitor.
His hands trembled.
His throat was dry.
His escape route—gone.
His men—slaughtered.
He had nothing left.
Hydra could easily replace the fallen soldiers, but in the United States, their resources had been decimated since the Battle of Washington.
S.H.I.E.L.D.—or, as Hydra called it, Snake Shield—had been forced to retreat to Europe.
What remained of Hydra in the U.S. was weak, fractured, barely holding on.
Now?
With his exposure, Hydra's presence in America was as good as dead.
Mitchell Carson let out a bitter laugh.
He had lost.
And there was nothing he could do.
Creak—
The door in front of him swung open.
Carson exhaled sharply, already knowing who stood there.
He lifted his gaze.
And saw Green Arrow.
He wasn't surprised.
His fate was sealed.
Meanwhile, the international mercenary team under Darren Kraus was locked in a fierce gunfight with the NYPD's task force.
Or at least, they had been.
Because now?
They were being completely annihilated—
By the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
The mercenaries prided themselves on their marksmanship and combat skills.
But against bulletproof, thick-shelled turtles?
They never stood a chance.
The Turtles charged through the battlefield, dodging bullets like they were playing a game, bashing enemies aside with reckless abandon.
They weren't just winning.
They were having fun.
Meanwhile, the NYPD task force used them as walking tanks.
The officers stayed behind cover, firing at exposed enemies while the Turtles absorbed all the gunfire at the front.
Every time a shot rang out—
An enemy fell.
The mercenaries had never faced this kind of guerrilla-style combat before.
Their strategy? Completely useless.
Their firepower? Ineffective.
In just a few short minutes—
They were forced into retreat.
At this rate—
Their defeat was only a matter of time.
Just as the military troops were about to enter the area, the leading general suddenly received a call from Secretary of Defense John Koehler.
"Turn around. Head to Klaus Technology and arrest Darren Klaus, the CEO."
The general was momentarily taken aback.
As a military officer, he was well aware of the ongoing tensions between Klaus Technology and the military.
For such a direct order to come from the top, there was only one conclusion—
Klaus Technology was finished.
Though curious about the sudden shift in priorities, the general didn't hesitate.
Orders were orders.
With a sharp command, he redirected his troops.
A few streets away, Klaus Technology was about to become a battleground.
Darren Klaus sensed something was wrong.
Seated in his sleek, high-tech office, he suddenly noticed a major breach in his system.
Someone had erased all data on the Hornet Suit—including its backups.
His eyes flicked to the surveillance feed.
And there she was.
Hope van Dyne.
One of his own executives.
She had done this.
"Hope!"
Klaus clenched his fists, his face contorting with rage. His bloodshot eyes burned with fury.
Under the cold glow of the security screens, he watched her copying the last bits of critical data before wiping the system clean.
Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and barked an order.
"Find her. Take her down. Recover the files—"
The line cut off.
A dead signal.
"What the hell?"
A cold chill ran down his spine.
As if sensing something, he shot up from his chair and rushed to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside—
Military vehicles lined the street below.
His breath hitched.
His face drained of color.
He didn't need an explanation.
They were here for him.
"Damn it!"
Panic surged through him.
The situation had spiraled beyond his control.
Shoving aside his desk chair, he bolted from his office—
Only to slam straight into a team of armed soldiers.
Their leader stood firm, his expression unreadable.
"Darren Klaus."
His tone was calm.
"It seems you already know you're surrounded."
Klaus stumbled back, chest heaving, his mind racing for an escape.
"If you have any explanations," the officer continued, unphased, "you can save them for the interrogation."
A row of rifles clicked into place.
Klaus had no way out.
He was done.
….
patreon.com/Vks_sh