Josh Cruise took a deep breath as the dust began to settle around them. The last encounter with Gilbert Holcomb had been brutal, and the tension was still thick in the air. The weight of the battle lingered on Josh's shoulders, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Lauri was beside him, still catching her breath, while William Dangerfield leaned against a broken street lamp, cradling his injured shoulder. Lojan Mackimee, the immortal man with a devil-may-care attitude, stood a few steps ahead, his usual grin plastered on his face.
"Alright, kiddies," Lojan said, his voice filled with a strange mix of levity and seriousness. "Looks like the coast is clear. No more rubber freaks to deal with."
Josh nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Yeah, but we need to keep moving. We don't know who or what's next."
Lauri gave him a quick smile, though it was tinged with exhaustion. "I'm with you, Josh. Let's just hope it's not another psycho with a vendetta."
Suddenly, a low hum filled the air, like the distant whirr of machinery coming to life. Josh's instincts flared up. "Did anyone hear that?"
William pushed off from the lamp post, wincing. "Yeah, I hear it. Sounds like... something mechanical."
Before they could react, a figure emerged from the shadows. He was tall, towering over everyone else, with an unnerving stillness to his movements. His body glinted under the dim streetlights, and it became immediately clear why: he was mostly metal. Pistons and gears shifted as he walked, and his eyes were an unsettling, glowing red. His presence was like something out of a nightmare.
Lojan's grin widened. "Well, well, if it isn't the legend himself. Wagner's back, boys."
Josh's eyes widened as he recognized the figure from stories he had heard—stories of an unstoppable machine, a relic from another time. "That's... Dr. Wagner?"
"Ja," the figure boomed, his voice carrying a thick German accent and a metallic echo. "I am Dr. Wagner, ze perfect human! A true product of ze Motherland!" He spread his arms wide, as if welcoming them to behold his 'perfection.' "And you, little monkeys, are in my way."
Josh exchanged a quick glance with Lauri and William. "He's crazy," he muttered. "Like, actually insane."
"Yeah," William agreed, flexing his metal manipulation ability. "But don't underestimate him. Those cyborg parts aren't just for show."
Dr. Wagner's eyes scanned them with a calculating gleam. "You are here for ze money, ja? Ze Power Lottery! But you do not deserve it. Ze Motherland needs it, and I am ze one to claim it for her!"
"Alright, old man," Lojan said, stepping forward with a chuckle. "Why don't you just—"
A loud, mechanical click cut him off. Josh's eyes darted to the source—a compartment on Wagner's forehead began to open, revealing a hidden cavity. And then, without warning, a machine gun barrel emerged from the opening.
Josh's blood ran cold. "Get down!"
A split second later, the gun roared to life, spitting a hail of bullets with a deafening racket. Josh, Lauri, and William dove behind the nearest cover, a crumbling concrete wall. Bullets pelted the ground, tearing chunks of asphalt and dirt into the air. Lojan, with his immortal body, danced around the bullets with impossible speed, his laughter echoing through the chaos.
"Seriously? A machine gun in his head?" Josh yelled over the noise, gripping his mystical sword tightly. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
William peeked over the wall for a moment before ducking back down. "We need to disable that thing, and fast! I can try to bend the metal around it, but I'm gonna need a clear shot."
Lauri nodded, her eyes sharp with determination. "I'll overload it with a blast of electricity. Maybe that'll short-circuit his systems."
Josh gritted his teeth. "Alright. Let's move on my count. One... two..."
Bullets continued to rain down around them, and the noise was deafening. Dr. Wagner's laughter mixed with the sounds of gunfire, his mechanical body clicking and whirring with every movement. He was enjoying this. He lived for the fight.
"Three!" Josh shouted.
Lauri sprang up first, her hand raised, and the electricity crackled at her fingertips. She released a powerful jolt, aiming straight for Wagner's head. Sparks flew as the electricity hit the machine gun barrel, but Wagner's systems were far more advanced than they had anticipated. The gun only paused for a moment before roaring back to life, shifting its aim toward her.
"Damn it!" Lauri dove back behind the wall as bullets chewed through the concrete.
William, seizing the moment, extended his metal manipulation to bend the barrel sideways, but Wagner adjusted quickly, his head twisting unnaturally to realign his aim.
Josh realized they needed a new plan—fast. "We can't hit him head-on like this. We need to flank him, distract him from multiple sides."
But before any more words could be exchanged, Wagner's voice boomed out again, filled with manic joy. "Zis is what I live for! Combat against inferior beings!" He raised his head higher, the gun still rattling, his laughter more menacing than before.
Josh took a deep breath. "Alright, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought."
The group huddled closer as the relentless gunfire continued to rain down. The chapter had only begun, and already they were in for the fight of their lives against a man who truly believed himself to be the ultimate warrior of his time.
The chaos of battle faded into a strange, cold stillness. The relentless roar of Dr. Wagner's machine gun was drowned out, replaced by the low hum of a memory, pulling him back more than a century ago. The landscape around him shifted, and he was no longer in the present. Instead, he stood in the heart of Europe, in the winter of 1938, surrounded by the dying embers of a war-torn city.
Wagner, then known simply as Sergeant Johann Wagner, marched in a heavy, mud-stained uniform. The sky was overcast, a dull gray that matched the mood of the soldiers around him. They were all members of a special task force under Nazi command—Das überkommando, a unit formed for one purpose: to hunt and eliminate super-powered beings that threatened the Third Reich.
Wagner was in his late twenties at that time, his face younger and unmarred by metal or wires. His eyes, however, carried the same cold determination they did now. He had been chosen for his ruthless efficiency and loyalty to the cause. His belief in the ideology was ironclad; he truly thought himself to be a warrior of the future.
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On this particular mission, Wagner's squad was tasked with capturing a dangerous enemy operative rumored to possess the ability to imbue objects with explosive energy. They had been tracking this target for weeks, trailing him across occupied France, and now they had cornered him in a small, bombed-out village near the Maginot Line. The air was thick with tension, the kind that only comes before a storm.
"Keep your eyes open," Wagner barked to his men, his voice cold and commanding. "He vill not escape zis time."
Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A man stood in the middle of the square, casually playing with a yo-yo as if he hadn't a care in the world. He was a tall figure with a cocky grin, wearing a ragged trench coat that barely kept him warm. But it was his eyes that unnerved Wagner—they were filled with a mocking confidence.
"There he is," one of the soldiers whispered. "That's him—the Yo-Yo Man."
Wagner's lips curled into a snarl. "Take him down! Schnell!"
Before the order could fully leave his mouth, the man swung his yo-yo forward with a deft flick of his wrist. The toy glowed with a bright, unnatural energy, and then—BOOM! It struck the ground, releasing a shockwave that sent several soldiers flying back. Wagner barely had time to process what was happening before the Yo-Yo Man lunged, his movements swift and fluid.
"Surprise, boys!" the man shouted, his French accent heavy but clear. "Didn't think you'd catch me playing today, did ya?"
He whipped the yo-yo around, its string elongating impossibly, charged with the same bright energy. It cut through the air like a spinning blade. Wagner ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation. The yo-yo sliced clean through a nearby stone pillar as if it were made of butter.
"Get him!" Wagner roared. "Shoot! Shoot now!"
Bullets tore through the air, but the Yo-Yo Man was faster. His toy spun with an almost musical rhythm, deflecting the bullets or detonating them mid-air in a flash of sparks. With another flick, he sent the yo-yo arcing toward Wagner's chest.
Wagner tried to sidestep, but he wasn't fast enough. The yo-yo struck him with a concussive blast of energy, ripping through his uniform and flesh. He staggered back, eyes wide with shock, as blood began to seep from his chest.
"No..." he muttered, feeling the warmth of his own life force leaving him. "I... am ze perfect soldier..."
But the Yo-Yo Man wasn't done. He swung his yo-yo again, this time with a sharp, precise motion. It came at Wagner horizontally, slicing through his midsection. He could feel the world around him beginning to fade, his vision growing dark, but he clung to life with a desperate, fanatical resolve. He would not die here—not before proving his worth.
In his last conscious moments, he saw his body collapse in two, and the Yo-Yo Man standing over him, a look of pity in his eyes.
"Poor little soldier," the Yo-Yo Man muttered. "You should've stayed home."
And then there was darkness.
Wagner awoke in a cold, sterile room. Bright lights blared down on him, and he couldn't feel his limbs. Panic surged through his veins. Where was he? Was he dead?
No. He was alive—barely. The sound of whirring machines and the sterile scent of antiseptic filled his senses. He tried to move, but something was wrong. He felt... different.
A shadow fell over him. A man in a white coat, his face obscured by a mask, looked down at him with a sinister grin.
"Ah, our subject is awake," the man said with a thick German accent. "Welcome back to ze world of ze living, Sergeant Wagner. Or should I say... ze new you."
Wagner tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn't move properly. Instead, he managed a low, mechanical grunt.
"Do not be alarmed," the doctor continued, his voice filled with a chilling glee. "You vere at death's door, but ve have brought you back. Improved, even. You are now a product of ze Motherland's vision of perfection."
Wagner's eyes darted around, and he caught a glimpse of himself reflected in a metallic surface. His body—his once-human body—was now mostly replaced by metal, gears, and hydraulics. His limbs were mechanical, his torso reinforced with steel plating. Wires ran from his skull to his spine. He was more machine than man.
A wave of horror, then rage, crashed over him. His purpose was clearer than ever. The Motherland had saved him, made him better, stronger. He was no longer Johann Wagner. He was Dr. Wagner—the perfect human.
"Prepare yourself," the doctor said with a gleam in his eye. "For ve have much vork to do. Ze future of ze Motherland depends on you."
Wagner's vision began to sharpen, his senses enhanced by the cybernetic enhancements. He could hear the thrum of his new mechanical heart, the whirring of his new limbs. He clenched his new metal fist, feeling the power surging through him.
"Yes," he growled, his voice now a deep, metallic rumble. "I am ready."
William Dangerfield's breath came in shallow, quick bursts as he stared down Dr. Wagner. The former Nazi cyborg, with his towering, metallic frame gleaming in the dim light, looked like a twisted vision of a man more machine than human. Around them, the battlefield was littered with debris and broken bodies, both human and metal. The air was thick with the smell of burnt ozone and blood.
Josh Cruise crouched behind a partially collapsed wall nearby, clutching his mystical sword with trembling hands. His mind raced, frantically searching for a way out of this madness. His power to travel back in time was useless here; no amount of witnessing the past would help in a fight like this. Beside him, his twin sister Lauri was breathing heavily, her eyes focused on Wagner while her fingers sparked with electricity, ready to fry the circuits in his body if she could get close enough.
"Keep your head down, Josh," she whispered, not taking her eyes off Wagner. "We just need to find an opening."
"I know, I know," Josh muttered back, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "But this guy... he's insane."
"Insane and outdated," William grunted, stepping forward. His eyes were narrowed, analyzing Wagner's every movement. "He's practically a walking museum exhibit. And I think I've figured out how to end this."
Wagner's mechanical face contorted into a twisted grin. "Vhat is zis?" he sneered, his thick German accent echoing in the air. "Ze American hero thinks he can take on ze perfect human? You are all like ants to me!"
Wagner's arm shifted, and a massive cannon emerged from his wrist, the barrel glowing with a sinister red light. Without warning, he fired. A blast of energy tore through the air, obliterating everything in its path. Josh and Lauri barely had time to duck, feeling the heat sear past them as it incinerated the wall behind them.
"William, hurry!" Lauri shouted, desperation creeping into her voice.
William smirked. "Got it."
He took a deep breath and focused. His ability to manipulate metal was something he'd honed over the years, and right now, he needed every ounce of precision he could muster. He could feel the cold hum of the metal within Wagner—his frame, his limbs, his weaponized appendages. It all pulsed like a living thing, one William could bend to his will.
"Let's see how you like this," William muttered. He raised his hands, palms out, and closed his eyes. He could feel the metal responding to him, his senses reaching out like invisible tendrils, coiling around every nut, bolt, and gear in Wagner's body.
Wagner's grin faltered. He could feel something too—an unnatural tug, a force that was pulling him from the inside out. His eyes widened in realization. "Vhat are you doing?!"
William's eyes snapped open. "You're almost all metal, aren't you, Wagner? That makes this a whole lot easier."
He twisted his hands slowly, and Wagner's limbs jerked violently. The Nazi cyborg stumbled, his body convulsing as if an invisible puppeteer were yanking on his strings.
"Nein! Stop zis! You vill not—"
But it was too late. William clenched his fists, and with a sudden, brutal motion, began to compress Wagner's entire metal frame. The grinding sound of metal bending against metal filled the air. Wagner screamed, a horrible, distorted wail that was both human and machine, echoing off the ruined buildings.
His legs began to crumple inward, folding like twisted paper. His arms were yanked back into his body, his metal joints snapping and screeching as they were forced into unnatural positions. His cannon arm, still smoking from the earlier blast, was crushed into his chest, sparks flying everywhere.
"Stop!" Wagner shrieked, his voice breaking with terror and rage. "I am ze perfect—"
The rest of his words were drowned out by the cacophony of metal screaming against itself. William's brow furrowed in concentration, beads of sweat rolling down his face. He twisted his hands again, and Wagner's torso began to cave in, his metal ribs snapping like twigs.
Josh watched in awe, his fear momentarily forgotten. "Holy crap, William..."
Lauri's breath caught as she watched the spectacle unfold. "Keep going, Will! Don't let up!"
Wagner's body continued to collapse inward, his head the last part to succumb. His eyes, wild with panic, darted around desperately as his once-imposing frame was crushed into a grotesque ball of metal and flesh.
"Nein... Nein..." he whimpered. "Ze Motherland... I am—"
With one final twist of William's hands, Wagner's head imploded into the ball of crushed metal. The sound was like a final, horrible crunch, and then... silence. The twisted metal sphere, now no bigger than a boulder, clattered to the ground.
William exhaled slowly, lowering his hands. His chest heaved with exhaustion, but he couldn't help but smirk. "Guess you weren't so perfect after all, huh?"
The battlefield fell silent. Josh and Lauri emerged from behind their cover, still wary but filled with a newfound sense of hope. They approached William, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and admiration.
"You... you did it," Josh said, still in shock. "You actually did it."
"Damn right, I did," William replied, though there was a hint of weariness in his voice. "But we'd better keep moving. There's no telling what other crazies are out there waiting for us."
Lauri nodded, though her eyes lingered on William a moment longer. "You really are something, you know that?"
William chuckled, a soft, genuine sound. "I've been told. Now, come on, let's get out of here before—"
Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the area. The ground beneath them shook, and in the distance, a dark figure emerged, slowly making its way toward them.
Josh squinted, trying to make out the figure. "Uh, guys... I don't think we're done yet."
William sighed, glancing back at the remains of Wagner, now nothing more than a crumpled heap of metal. "Seems like we're never done."
And with that, the three of them prepared themselves for whatever came next, knowing that in this world of superhuman abilities and twisted ambitions, the fight was far from over.
To be continued...