Chapter 785

Hydra was enormous.

So enormous, in fact, that even many of its own members had no idea just how deep the organization’s roots went.

Hydra had people embedded in governments, militaries, corporations, academia, finance—virtually every industry and every corner of the world. Many of those operatives weren’t merely employees. They held real influence in the fields where they had been planted.

That sheer scale gave Hydra tremendous advantages.

It also made the organization almost impossible to unify.

Hydra had existed for roughly three thousand years. An organization couldn’t survive that long without changing. Throughout its history, the ancient families at its core had absorbed other groups whose beliefs and ambitions aligned with their own.

The original arrangement had been simple enough.

The ancient families would remain at the center, while the other organizations became their hands and eyes—their servants, their extensions, their agents in the outside world.

And, at first, it worked.

The problem was that the ancient families were bound together by blood and faith. Their numbers grew slowly, sometimes hardly at all.

The other factions had no such limitation.

Their membership exploded.

More people meant more resources, more influence, and more competition for Hydra’s most important positions.

Eventually, those newer factions grew powerful enough to stand alongside the ancient families.

In some areas, they were even stronger.

And that created a problem Hydra had never truly solved.

Internal conflict.

Under ordinary circumstances, the various factions could bury their disagreements beneath the appearance of cooperation. Everyone had enemies outside the organization, after all.

But when their core interests collided, compromise became impossible.

And nothing mattered more to Hydra than the question of how they would achieve their shared ideal.

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

Should they seize control through violence and conspiracy?

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

Or should they persuade humanity to surrender its freedom willingly and embrace Hydra beneath its protection?

The arguments had never stopped.

Someone might reasonably ask why the method mattered so much.

If everyone wanted the same result, why not simply cooperate and worry about the details later?

Because the details were the point.

Whichever method became Hydra’s official path, the other factions would have to abandon their own beliefs and support someone else’s vision.

And the ultimate goal was world domination.

Whoever controlled the world would control Hydra.

And whoever controlled Hydra would control everyone else.

The ideological dispute was therefore only the surface.

The real struggle was over who would hold the highest seat of power.

That was a conflict no compromise could resolve.

So the factions had eventually settled into a bizarre arrangement.

Everyone pursued their own version of the dream while making absolutely certain that no rival faction achieved theirs first.

It was essentially, Nobody gets to open their legendary loot chest until I do.

And if somebody did manage to get their hands on the good stuff first?

Break it.

Destroy it.

Burn the loot.

Nobody was allowed to win.

That was the tragedy of Hydra.

They weren’t short on resources.

They weren’t short on brilliant people.

If all those factions could have put aside their differences and worked together, the world might have belonged to Hydra centuries ago.

Instead, most of their potential had been squandered fighting one another.

The examples were everywhere.

During World War II, there had been the hundred-tank donation program, the billion-dollar government bond purchase operation, and—one of the Malik family’s favorite stories—the Hawkins extraction.

Otherwise, how was anyone supposed to explain what had happened?

A middle-aged academic with no combat ability, Dr. Hawkins, somehow managed to escape the Third Reich’s attention, evade the Red Skull’s pursuit, get past the German naval blockade, and reach the United States while carrying the super-soldier serum.

Even a veteran spy would have struggled to accomplish that.

For Hawkins to succeed, there had to have been something extraordinary at work.

A hidden hand.

Someone had arranged everything behind the scenes.

The only unfortunate part was that they couldn’t make the assistance too obvious.

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

The possibilities were almost irresistible.

But that was the nature of Hydra.

Anyone pursuing their ideal had to fight enemies outside the organization while simultaneously watching for the knife in the back from the people standing beside them.

It wasn’t merely a two-front war.

It was a war on every front imaginable.

No wonder success was so rare.

The ancient families sometimes wondered whether their ancestors had made a mistake three thousand years ago by welcoming all those other factions into Hydra.

But at the time, it had been the best option available.

And there was no point dwelling on what-ifs now.

The past couldn’t be changed.

What mattered was finding a way out of the endless cycle of internal conflict—a way to stop Hydra from repeatedly being destroyed by its own members.

Which brought Malik back to Evenson’s earlier suggestion.

Perhaps he really should cut the ancient families loose from the rest of Hydra.

Malik could lead his people out, sever their ties with the increasingly corrupted organization, adopt a new identity, and build something of their own.

Let the name Hydra remain with the others.

It wasn’t as though Malik had ever truly been Hydra.

They were something older.

Something different.

They were the true Hydra.

Let everyone else fight over the name.

As for whether the other factions would accuse him of betrayal?

That hardly mattered.

Once Pierce’s Insight plan collapsed, Hydra would be exposed to the entire world. The organization’s enemies would descend upon it with all the fury they possessed.

Those people would have far bigger problems than worrying about Malik.

Better yet, by leaving early, Malik could avoid being dragged down with them.

He could even sit safely on the sidelines and watch the whole thing burn.

Perhaps add a little fuel.

It was an excellent strategy.

...

Wait.

Something was wrong.

The satisfaction that had begun to spread through Malik’s mind abruptly vanished.

Why did this feel wrong?

Why had the entire conversation developed in such a strange direction?

Insight.

That was where it had started.

Malik’s eyes narrowed.

The information about the Insight plan had originally come from Umbrella. They had obtained the intelligence first and then brought it to him.

There was no reason to doubt the authenticity of the information.

But when Umbrella had come to discuss how to respond, what solutions had they offered?

Escape.

Or annihilate humanity.

Neither was remotely constructive.

Malik, meanwhile, had been the one to devise an actual solution.

And he had done it on the spot.

Under enormous pressure.

Without advisers.

Without a planning staff.

He had independently worked out a viable way to deal with the Insight plan.

So how could Umbrella, which had obtained the intelligence first, have failed to think of the same thing?

They couldn’t have.

If Umbrella were truly that incompetent, it would never have survived this long.

It certainly wouldn’t have been capable of remaining hidden behind the scenes while accumulating such terrifying power.

Malik slowly turned his gaze toward Evenson.

The man was calmly lifting his teacup and taking another sip.

Cold sweat suddenly ran down Malik’s back.

It had all been deliberate.

From the moment Evenson brought up the Insight plan, he’d begun laying out increasingly bleak alternatives.

The purpose wasn’t to solve the problem.

It was to guide Malik toward solving it himself.

And in the process, make him recognize the fundamental flaws within Hydra.

Then, once Malik had reached that conclusion on his own, the idea of leaving Hydra would seem like his own decision.

Insight was merely the appetizer.

Convincing Malik to establish an independent organization was the real meal.

But that raised an even more frightening possibility.

If Umbrella was treating the Insight plan as nothing more than the setup for this conversation, then perhaps the plan itself wasn’t nearly as threatening to them as Malik had assumed.

Could Umbrella really possess that much power?

Could they actually regard something capable of destroying Hydra as nothing more than a minor inconvenience?

"What’s wrong, Mr. Malik?"

Evenson lowered his teacup.

Only then did he notice the sweat covering Malik’s forehead.

"Are you feeling unwell?"

"N-No."

Malik stiffly raised a handkerchief and wiped his brow.

What was he supposed to do?

Yes, his conclusion had been guided.

But that didn’t make the conclusion false.

The Insight plan still had to be dealt with.

Hydra’s internal problems were still real.

And once he looked at the situation objectively, leaving really did seem like the best option.

He simply hated the fact that someone else had maneuvered him into reaching it.

No.

Personal feelings didn’t matter.

Neither did pride.

His family’s survival and future mattered more.

"Leaving Hydra won’t be easy," Malik said slowly. "My family has its own difficulties."

"Difficulties..."

Evenson rubbed his chin.

Then his expression suddenly brightened.

"Ah. I understand."

Malik watched him carefully.

"I heard Stephanie mention that your ancient families have been experiencing a crisis of faith."

Malik’s expression immediately darkened.

That was one of the deepest wounds shared by every ancient Hydra family.

For thousands of years, they had worshiped a god they had never seen.

They had waited for his return, believing that when he came back, he would share the world with them.

For millennia, they had maintained their rituals—even the sacrifices.

But the modern world had changed everything.

Science had advanced far beyond what their ancestors could have imagined.

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

Perhaps their god simply wasn’t powerful enough.

If the Hive returned, would he really possess the strength to conquer the world?

Could he truly grant them the power they had spent three thousand years waiting for?

Perhaps not.

The Hive’s position had therefore gradually changed in their minds.

Once, he had been their future sovereign.

Now, he was increasingly becoming something closer to a symbol—a seal representing their legitimacy.

And that change had weakened the faith binding the ancient families together.

Malik stared at Evenson.

There was something else.

Evenson had emphasized this problem more than once during their very first meeting.

Had he already been laying the groundwork for today’s conversation back then?

How far ahead had Umbrella’s strategists planned?

"Having a god who isn’t strong enough is certainly awkward," Evenson said lightly. "But your families were never exactly what I’d call devoted believers."

He leaned back.

"In a prosperous modern world dominated by science, genuine religious devotion is difficult to maintain. Especially for someone like you. You’re powerful enough to obtain most things through your own efforts."

"And if the things you can’t accomplish are also beyond the ability of your god..."

He spread his hands.

"What’s left to believe in?"

Malik’s eyes narrowed.

"So..."

Evenson opened one eye and looked directly at him.

"Would it really be so difficult to choose another god?"

Especially one who was stronger.

One who could satisfy ambitions that the Hive could no longer fulfill.

Malik remembered Evenson’s earlier remark about giving him another god to worship.

At the time, he’d assumed the man had simply been joking.

Apparently not.

He quickly began considering what Umbrella could possibly gain by persuading him to abandon the Hive.

"Wait."

Malik rubbed his aching temples.

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

"We don’t worship gods," Evenson corrected. "That doesn’t mean gods don’t exist."

He shook his head.

"What we reject are beings who are called gods simply because they’re powerful."

"A true god is something fundamentally beyond comprehension. Something that cannot be observed or understood. Something that remains absolutely mysterious."

"Even if such a being appeared directly in front of you, you wouldn’t truly be able to comprehend it."

Malik’s expression became expectant.

Evenson immediately waved a hand.

"Don’t look at me like that. I’m not suggesting you worship one of those."

"In fact, any sane person should want absolutely nothing to do with such beings. They don’t need our faith. They don’t need our worship. To them, we might not even qualify as anything more substantial than two-dimensional drawings on a piece of paper."

"They might simply watch us dance ourselves into madness."

"That is... comforting."

Malik raised an eyebrow.

"So who exactly is this new god you’re suggesting?"

Evenson’s expression suddenly became solemn.

"The Goddess of Death."

"Hela."

Malik’s expression froze.

"Hela... Loki’s—"

"Older sister," Evenson cut in.

He raised a finger.

"Forget the nonsense from Norse mythology. The Goddess of Death, Hela, is Odin’s eldest child, first in line to the Asgardian throne, and the rightful commander of the Asgardian armies."

Malik relaxed slightly.

Loki was a name he knew.

The man had caused quite a bit of trouble on Earth.

But compared with everything Evenson had just told him, worshiping Loki’s daughter suddenly seemed far more respectable.

Hela was a completely different matter.

"Hive was nothing more than an early Kree experiment," Evenson continued. "A somewhat more advanced disposable asset, perhaps, but ultimately still a slave."

"Asgard, meanwhile, is one of the great powers of the cosmos. Even at the height of the Kree Empire, they didn’t dare treat Asgard with disrespect. They kept their distance."

"The difference in status isn’t even close."

Malik had to admit that was difficult to argue with.

"Then how powerful is this Goddess of Death?"

Evenson gave a soft, almost mocking laugh.

"Hive compared with Thor?"

He shook his head.

"About eighty cents."

Malik stared.

"But among Odin’s three children, Hela was the strongest."

"When Odin built Asgard’s empire, she led his armies from the front. Much of Asgard’s fearsome reputation throughout the cosmos was built on her victories."

"She became so powerful that even Odin came to fear her."

"And when she rebelled and was defeated, Odin couldn’t destroy her. He had to imprison her instead."

"The price?"

Evenson’s expression sharpened.

"The entire Valkyrie army was wiped out."

Malik swallowed.

"The Valkyries..."

Even Thor would have loved to sneak into that legendary army.

And Hela had annihilated all of them.

Alone.

Instantly.

"That powerful..."

Malik swallowed again.

"She’s imprisoned?"

There was almost something cursed about Malik’s luck.

The first god his family had worshiped had been exiled on another world and hadn’t found his way home in three thousand years.

Now they had found a new god who was both vastly more powerful and far more prestigious.

And she was imprisoned too.

Was Malik destined to worship only gods who couldn’t leave their prisons?

"That’s nothing to worry about," Evenson said with a shrug.

"Hela’s prison is tied directly to Odin’s life. The moment Odin dies, she will be free."

"And right now..."

He smiled.

"Odin doesn’t have much time left. Three years. Five at most."

Malik visibly relaxed.

Thank God.

He had been afraid they were looking at another three-thousand-year wait.

"And there’s another advantage."

Evenson’s smile widened.

"Because Hela has been imprisoned for so long, and because Odin deliberately erased information about her, most people have forgotten she ever existed."

"She has no followers."

"So if you offer her your faith now..."

He chuckled.

"This is exactly the moment when faith matters most."

Malik nodded.

That was undeniably an excellent opportunity.

Then he asked the question that mattered most.

"But what kind of power can she give us?"

"None."

Malik’s eyes widened.

For one horrifying second, he looked ready to leap out of his chair.

Then Evenson calmly finished:

"Power is something you take for yourself."

Malik slowly settled back down.

That pause had nearly given him a heart attack.

"So..."

He carefully composed himself.

"How much power do you think we could acquire?"

"Imagine."

Evenson’s voice became almost hypnotic.

"Hela currently has no followers. Once you offer her your faith, you become one of her first disciples."

"What did the first disciples of a great religion become?"

He paused.

"Think of Saint Peter."

"The Pope?"

Malik’s heart began to race.

Peter had been one of Jesus’s closest disciples and was traditionally regarded as the first Pope.

And the power of the papacy had once been enormous.

In medieval Europe, the Pope could legitimize rulers, influence kings, and reshape nations with a decree.

The Catholic Church had declined dramatically since then, but even in the modern world it remained enormously influential.

And unlike Christianity’s God, Malik’s new goddess actually existed.

A real god.

A real source of power.

A real patron.

If Hela truly stood behind him, why should the authority of her high priest ever diminish?

"The title probably won’t sound quite as impressive," Evenson admitted.

"You’d probably be called a High Priest. Or perhaps the Chief Priest."

"Though the title itself doesn’t matter."

"Certainly not," Malik muttered.

With Hela standing above him, calling himself an emperor would be a little ambitious.

"As for your actual authority..."

Evenson shrugged.

"It probably won’t be as absolute as the Pope’s."

Malik looked confused.

"Think about it," Evenson explained. "The Christian God doesn’t personally govern the world. That’s why the Pope could accumulate so much authority."

"Hela is real."

"She’s both goddess and queen. She’ll govern her own kingdom directly."

"But a goddess should maintain her dignity."

"She won’t personally involve herself in every matter of faith."

Evenson’s smile returned.

"And that leaves those matters in your hands."

Malik considered it.

That made sense.

A living goddess couldn’t simply hand over her entire kingdom to a mortal priest.

Still, it felt like he was giving something up.

"Anything you lose there can be compensated elsewhere," Evenson said.

"Where?"

"Your dream has always been world domination."

Evenson’s tone became faintly dismissive.

"Earth."

"That’s the entire world you dreamed of ruling."

"But from the perspective of the cosmos..."

He spread his hands.

"What is Earth?"

"A small planet in a small galaxy, inhabited by a civilization barely advanced enough to qualify as an emerging technological species."

"To an advanced alien civilization, the ruler of Earth might be viewed the same way you would look at the alpha of a troop of monkeys."

Malik’s expression darkened.

Ignorance really was bliss.

The universe was enormous.

The Kree Empire existed.

Asgard existed.

There were civilizations capable of things Malik could scarcely imagine.

And suddenly three thousand years of scheming, political maneuvering, and fighting over control of Earth seemed almost absurd.

"But if you become Hela’s High Priest..."

Evenson’s smile returned.

"Your authority doesn’t have to stop at one planet."

"Think about Asgard’s territory."

Malik’s eyes brightened.

"The Nine Realms."

Exactly.

As Hela’s first generation of followers, the High Priest of her faith would have authority over every realm beneath her rule.

Every territory.

Every subject.

Every follower.

Malik’s mind raced.

What choice was there?

Would you rather be an absolute ruler of a village?

Or the vice president of an empire?

Even if you were technically second in command?

"The Nine Realms?"

Evenson almost sounded offended.

"You can aim much higher than that."

"Hela’s ambitions already exceed Odin’s."

"She will lead Asgard’s armies outward and carve out an empire of her own."

Malik’s breathing quickened.

"And remember what faith really is."

"Faith is about the human mind. The heart."

"You can’t see it. You can’t measure it."

"So when someone asks whether a person’s faith is sincere..."

Evenson smiled.

"Who do you think gets to decide?"

Malik didn’t need to think.

Who else could decide such a thing beneath the goddess herself?

The High Priest.

"Exactly."

Evenson’s eyes gleamed.

"You could establish a religious tribunal."

"If you understand the goddess’s wishes and preferences, its authority could surpass any secular court."

"As long as you don’t act against her will, you could condemn even a kingdom’s chancellor based on nothing more than your judgment."

Malik’s eyes widened.

A secret police force operating under the authority of the crown.

He immediately understood.

If he could establish such an institution and maintain the goddess’s favor, its power could become extraordinary.

And if the Malik family could reach that position under his leadership...

That would be a legacy worthy of his ancestors.

"Of course," Evenson added, "none of this works without ability."

"If you can’t understand the goddess, don’t pretend you can."

"Otherwise, you might think you’re flattering her while actually stepping on her toes."

"I understand."

Malik nodded.

It was simply another form of court politics.

Read the ruler.

Understand the ruler.

Anticipate the ruler’s wishes.

Pay attention to every hint.

"Good."

Malik slapped his thigh.

"Then how do I demonstrate my loyalty to this goddess?"

Evenson smiled.

"By meeting her."

"If you’re willing, I can arrange an audience with the goddess immediately."

"Then let’s do it."

Malik was suddenly eager.

"Why wait?"

Stephanie, who had remained silent throughout the conversation, hesitated.

"Father..."

Malik looked at her.

"Shouldn’t we inform the other families?"

Malik laughed.

"My dear girl, why would we hand them the food already sitting on our table?"

Stephanie immediately understood.

If their family pledged itself to Hela first, they would become her first-generation followers.

Any other ancient family that joined later would be second-generation.

That difference alone would give the Malik family a permanent advantage.

There was no reason to share it.

And so Malik endured the humiliation of putting the bear pelt back on.

He knelt reverently before the ritual basin and began swaying his head as he prayed.

Then he reached toward the golden basin filled with white powder.

He hesitated.

Because the powder wasn’t powder at all.

It was ash.

Human bone ash.

Reaching into it with his bare hands was deeply unpleasant.

But Malik gritted his teeth, plunged his hand into the basin, and scooped up a large handful.

He lifted the ash before his face.

Then, gathering his courage, he blew.

The ash scattered into the air.

"Gather, dust of the dead," Malik proclaimed solemnly.

"Offered unto the Goddess of Death!"

...