Marvel: A.T.L.A.S. - Ghost Protocol

Yakuza Stronghold, Osaka - December 1987

Blood steamed in the winter air as Caspian moved through the compound's outer perimeter. Three guards died before their bodies hit the ground, throats opened by precisely thrown blades enhanced with razor ice. The Emperor Eye tracked twenty-seven more hostiles inside the building. None had noticed their perimeter breach.

"Three floors secured below," Walter's voice whispered through the encrypted comm. "Target is confirmed in the penthouse office. Fifteen guards. All armed."

"Surveillance feed?" Caspian's breath didn't fog—the cold inside him was far deeper than Japan's winter.

"Looped. But they're running secondary systems. Old school. Motion sensors and pressure plates."

A ghost of a smile touched Caspian's lips. The Emperor Eye analyzed the building's security layout. Modern electronics couldn't detect what moved like shadow and struck like ice.

The first interior guard died silently, frozen from within as Caspian's Ice Blast caught him in the throat. The second had time to reach for his radio before an ice clone materialized behind him, snapping his neck with mechanical precision.

"Multiple heat signatures converging on your position," Walter reported. "They've noticed the temperature drop."

Four yakuza enforcers rounded the corner, MP5s raised. The Emperor Eye tracked their movements before they made them. Ice coated the floor beneath their feet as Caspian flowed between them like liquid death. Bones shattered. Blood froze. Bodies fell.

But one managed a short burst of automatic fire before dying.

Alarms shattered the night's silence.

"Target is moving," Walter's tone remained professional. "Activating contingency protocols."

Caspian was already moving, combining Ninjak's speed with his ice techniques. The Frost Hammer materialized in his hands as five more guards appeared. The Emperor Eye showed him exactly where to strike—points of maximum trauma, perfect killing blows.

The hammer's impact pulverized bones and flash-froze tissue. Those who survived the initial hits died as ice crystals formed in their blood.

"Second wave incoming," Walter warned. "Heavier weapons. They're switching to incendiary rounds."

Smart. Fire against ice. But they didn't understand—his cold went deeper than mere temperature.

The Ice Aura formed around him as the next group opened fire. Explosive rounds detonated harmlessly against crystalline armor. The Emperor Eye guided his counter-attack, every movement precise and lethal.

An Ice Clone drew their fire while he struck from behind. The Frost Hammer shattered spines and skulls. Ground Ice trapped those who tried to flee. Each technique flowed into the next, creating a symphony of violence Sub-Zero himself would have approved of.

"Target is attempting to reach the helipad," Walter reported. "Satellite shows an incoming extraction vehicle."

"Time to intercept?"

"Two minutes. But they've concentrated their remaining forces in the direct route. At least twelve hostiles with—"

"Understood."

The next sixty seconds were pure carnage. Caspian moved like a force of nature, combining ninja precision with absolute cold. The Emperor Eye let him see every angle, predict every response. Ice and shadow became one as he flowed through their defenses.

Bodies littered the corridors behind him, frozen in poses of death. Some still clutched weapons. Others had died reaching for radios or doors. All wore expressions of shock at how quickly shadow became ice became death.

The target—a high-ranking Yakuza boss who'd been selling classified intelligence—was halfway to his helicopter when the temperature around him plummeted.

His remaining guards had just enough time to see ice crystals forming in the air before Caspian struck. The Emperor Eye guided each blow, each technique chosen for maximum psychological impact. Let them see what true cold could do. Let them learn to fear the dark.

"Please," the target's English was perfect despite his fear. "Whatever they're paying you—"

"A Valemont," Caspian said quietly as ice gathered around his hands, "is not for sale."

The kill was quick, precise. Professional. But the method—flash-freezing the target's entire body before shattering it—would send a message to others who might consider selling secrets.

"Primary objective complete," Walter confirmed. "Extraction team is—"

Movement caught the Emperor Eye's attention. Three more guards, having hidden their heat signatures, emerged with military-grade weapons. Professionals. Good ones.

This would take a little longer.