Chapter 784

Hydra was enormous.

Not merely large enough to span a few countries or infiltrate a handful of governments. Its reach extended across the entire world, into nearly every industry and profession imaginable. Wherever Hydra had established a foothold, its people often held positions of influence within their respective fields.

That vast network gave Hydra enormous advantages.

But for all its size, Hydra was anything but unified.

The organization had existed for roughly three thousand years. In that amount of time, its history could hardly have been smooth. Wars, setbacks, changing political landscapes, and shifting circumstances had all forced Hydra’s founders—the ancient families at its core—to adapt.

Over the centuries, those families had absorbed organizations that shared similar ideals.

The original intention had been straightforward. The ancient families would remain at the center, while the organizations they absorbed would serve as their extensions, like vassals surrounding a monarch.

For a time, it had worked exactly as intended.

The problem was that the ancient families were bound together by blood and faith.

That made their membership extremely difficult to expand.

Other factions had no such restriction.

Their numbers grew rapidly. More members meant more resources, more influence, and greater competition for important positions within Hydra. Eventually, some of those factions became powerful enough to stand toe-to-toe with the ancient families—and in certain respects, even surpass them.

That created a problem Hydra had never truly solved.

Internal conflict.

Under ordinary circumstances, the factions could bury their differences and maintain the appearance of cooperation. But whenever their core interests collided, compromise became almost impossible.

And their greatest disagreement was over one simple question:

How should Hydra achieve its ideal?

Should they wait for their ancient god to return, faithfully serve him, and pray that he would share the world with them?

Should they seize the world through violence, manipulation, and conspiracy?

Should they simply strip humanity of its freedom and force everyone into obedience?

Or should they persuade humanity to willingly surrender that freedom and embrace Hydra?

The argument had never ended.

Someone might argue that the method didn’t matter. The result was what counted. If everyone wanted the same ultimate outcome, why fight over how to achieve it?

It sounded reasonable.

It wasn’t.

Because the moment Hydra chose one method as its official path, every other faction would have to abandon its own philosophy and help another faction realize the ultimate dream.

And that dream was world domination.

Which meant Hydra would rule the world.

And whoever controlled Hydra would rule Hydra.

That was the real conflict.

Not ideology.

Power.

And power struggles at that level rarely ended peacefully.

So instead of resolving their differences, the factions had gradually settled into an unspoken arrangement.

Everyone pursued their own version of the dream—and everyone made damn sure nobody else reached the finish line first.

It was basically the worst possible version of an MMO loot run.

If I haven’t gotten my legendary gear yet, nobody else is allowed to get theirs either.

If someone did manage to pull a miracle, everyone else would make sure it got destroyed.

The result was predictable.

Hydra had enormous resources.

Hydra had brilliant people.

Hydra had influence practically everywhere.

If its factions could put aside their differences and genuinely cooperate, the world might have belonged to Hydra generations ago.

Instead, much of that potential had been burned away in internal struggles.

Malik had seen examples of it himself.

The tank donation program during World War II. The ten-billion-dollar government bond subscription campaign. And, most famously within the Malik family, the operation that smuggled Dr. Hawkins out of Europe.

Otherwise, how else was a mild-mannered scholar with no combat ability supposed to escape the Third Reich’s attention, survive Red Skull’s pursuit, carry the Super-Soldier Serum across Europe, evade the German naval blockade, and reach America safely?

Even an experienced spy would have struggled to accomplish that.

Unless a miracle had occurred.

Or unless someone had quietly arranged everything from the shadows.

The only unfortunate part was that they couldn’t make their involvement too obvious.

Otherwise, it would have been hilarious to see the one successful super-soldier stand in front of Red Skull and shout, Hail Hydra.

The point remained.

Every Hydra faction had to fight two wars at once.

They had to overcome the outside world while simultaneously guarding their backs against their own allies.

True multi-front warfare.

And the difficulty multiplied accordingly.

No wonder success was so rare.

The ancient families had occasionally wondered whether their ancestors had made a mistake by absorbing those other organizations into Hydra.

But given the circumstances at the time, it had probably been the best decision available.

There was little value in endlessly regretting it now.

The past couldn’t be changed.

What mattered was finding a way out of the endless cycle of internal sabotage.

And Evenson’s suggestion deserved serious consideration.

Malik slowly pieced it together.

Sever the ancient families from the other factions.

Cut the cord.

Take his people out of the increasingly poisonous Hydra structure and establish something of their own.

Hydra could keep the name.

Malik had never considered himself Hydra in the first place.

They were Hydra.

That was the organization’s true name.

The corrupted name could remain with everyone else.

As for whether the other factions would consider it betrayal?

Who cared?

Once Pierce’s Insight program collapsed, Hydra would be exposed to the entire world. Governments everywhere would descend upon it with everything they had.

Those factions would be too busy saving themselves to worry about Malik.

Better yet, Malik could watch from a safe distance.

Maybe even pour a little gasoline on the fire.

It was an excellent strategy.

Then Malik froze.

Something was wrong.

The realization came so abruptly that the satisfaction vanished from his face.

Why did this entire chain of events feel so... deliberate?

The Insight program.

That’s where everything had started.

Umbrella had received the intelligence first. The information itself was almost certainly genuine.

But when they had come to him and asked how to respond, what solutions had they offered?

Run.

Hide.

And, if necessary, exterminate humanity.

None of those were constructive solutions.

Yet Malik, under immense pressure and without any advisers helping him, had managed to come up with a workable plan almost on the spot.

That raised an obvious question.

If Malik could do it, why couldn’t Umbrella?

They had obtained the intelligence before he had.

They had more resources.

More manpower.

More information.

And if Umbrella really was as incompetent as their suggestions had made them appear, they had no business surviving in the modern world, much less remaining hidden while accumulating such enormous power.

Malik slowly turned his gaze toward Evenson.

The man was sitting there calmly, raising his teacup and taking another sip as though they were discussing the weather.

Malik’s blood ran cold.

It’s all deliberate.

From the moment Evenson had brought up the Insight program, every subsequent suggestion had pushed Malik in a particular direction.

First, the terrifying threat.

Then the seemingly hopeless solutions.

Then the discussion about Hydra’s internal divisions.

And finally, the idea of breaking away from Hydra altogether.

The Insight program had never been the real subject of this conversation.

It had been the appetizer.

The main course was convincing Malik to establish a new organization.

And if that was true...

Then the Insight program itself wasn’t nearly as frightening to Umbrella as Malik had assumed.

It was simply a problem they could solve whenever they wanted.

Malik swallowed.

Just how powerful is Umbrella?

"What’s wrong, Mr. Malik?"

Evenson lowered his teacup.

He had finally noticed the sweat gathering on Malik’s forehead.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

"N-no. Nothing."

Malik awkwardly raised a handkerchief and wiped away the sweat.

What was he supposed to do?

Yes, the idea of leaving Hydra had been planted in his head by Evenson.

But that didn’t make the underlying problems any less real.

The Insight program still had to be stopped.

Hydra’s internal divisions still existed.

And separating the ancient families from the rest of the organization really might be the best solution.

The only thing Malik disliked was realizing that someone else had guided him toward the conclusion.

But this wasn’t the time to worry about pride.

His family’s survival mattered more.

"Leaving Hydra isn’t going to be easy," Malik said. "My family... we have our own difficulties."

"Difficulties?"

Evenson rubbed his chin.

Then his expression brightened with sudden realization.

"Ah. I understand. Stephanie mentioned something about this. Your ancient families have been experiencing a crisis of faith lately, haven’t you?"

Malik’s expression darkened.

That subject had become a thorn in the heart of every ancient family.

For thousands of years, they had worshiped a god they had never actually seen. Their hope had always been that when their god finally returned, he would share the world with them.

They had preserved that faith for millennia.

Maintained their rituals.

Made sacrifices.

Waited.

But the modern world had changed faster than any of them could have imagined.

Science had advanced at a staggering pace.

And the ancient families had begun to confront an uncomfortable possibility.

Perhaps their god simply wasn’t powerful enough.

If he returned now, could he really overpower the entire world?

Could he grant them the dominion they had spent thousands of years expecting?

The answer was increasingly uncertain.

So the role of their god had gradually changed.

Once, he had been the object of genuine faith.

Now, he was becoming something closer to a symbol—a divine seal representing their authority.

And that transformation had weakened the bond between the ancient families.

Malik’s eyes narrowed.

Evenson had known about this for a long time.

In fact, he’d emphasized it repeatedly from the moment they’d first met.

Wait.

Had this been part of the plan too?

Had Evenson been preparing for this moment since their very first meeting?

Was Umbrella’s intelligence apparatus really capable of analyzing the situation that far in advance?

Was their so-called think tank actually something closer to a strategic command center?

Malik felt another chill run down his spine.

"Having a god who isn’t powerful enough must be awkward," Evenson said lightly.

Malik stared at him.

"But you people were never particularly devout to begin with. In a prosperous modern world dominated by science, genuine faith is difficult to maintain. Especially for someone in your position."

Evenson leaned back.

"If almost everything you want can be achieved through your own power, and the things you can’t accomplish are also beyond the reach of your god... what’s left to believe in?"

Malik remained silent.

Evenson opened one eye.

"So why not find another god?"

Malik’s expression shifted.

"Especially one who is stronger," Evenson continued, "and capable of fulfilling ambitions that your old god never could."

Give you another god to worship.

Malik suddenly remembered something Evenson had said before.

At the time, he’d dismissed it as nonsense.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

"Wait."

Malik rubbed his aching temple.

"I remember that your company doesn’t exactly believe in gods."

"We don’t worship gods," Evenson corrected him. "That’s different."

He set his teacup down.

"We simply reject the idea that something becomes a god merely because it possesses extraordinary power."

Evenson’s voice became quieter.

"A true god is something fundamentally beyond comprehension. Something that cannot be observed, cannot be understood, and cannot be reduced to a set of measurable rules. Even if such a being appeared directly in front of you, you wouldn’t truly be capable of comprehending what you were seeing."

Malik stared at him.

Evenson waved a hand.

"Don’t look at me like that. I’m not offering to introduce you to one."

"Anyone sane would avoid that sort of thing anyway," he continued. "A true god wouldn’t need our faith or worship. Compared with such beings, humanity might as well be two-dimensional drawings on a sheet of paper."

He smiled faintly.

"At most, they might watch us dance ourselves into madness and find it amusing."

"That’s... comforting."

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"Then who exactly is this new god you’re talking about?"

Evenson’s expression suddenly became solemn.

"The Goddess of Death."

He paused.

"Hela."

Malik’s face immediately became strange.

"Hela... Loki’s—"

"Older sister."

Evenson cut him off.

"Forget everything you’ve heard from Norse mythology. Hela, the Goddess of Death, is Odin’s eldest daughter, first in line for the Asgardian throne, and the supreme commander of the Asgardian legions."

Malik visibly relaxed.

He knew Loki.

The man had caused plenty of trouble on Earth, but compared with the beings Malik had encountered in the higher reaches of the Marvel Universe, Loki wasn’t exactly reassuring.

Worshipping his daughter would have been difficult enough.

Worshipping Loki himself?

Malik wasn’t sure his dignity could survive it.