"This place can't withstand the enemy's encirclent. We need to move." Su Ming imdiately pointed to the Reich Chancellery behind him, instructing everyone to take cover inside.
Though it was rely a marble structure, far less durable than Apocalypse's protective shield, it would make a difference against the German forces.
They wouldn't dare use heavy firepower against the Reich Chancellery—this was the Führer's residence, the very heart of Nazi power. HYDRA might want to stir up trouble, but the Wehrmacht wouldn't allow it.
As long as they avoided heavy weaponry, Su Ming could hold the front entrance by himself.
If this also triggered internal conflict between HYDRA and the Wehrmacht, that would be even better.
"Rogue, you and the others take up positions at the second-floor windows and cover the streets with long-range fire." Su Ming quickly issued orders. "Cable, take your team and barricade all the windows on the ground floor. Hold the back door. Wade and I will cover the retreat."
Deadpool drew his twin katanas, looking dejected. "Always covering the rear, every ti. Is it my healing factor that ans I always have to be first in, last out?"
Su Ming unsheathed his greatsword and gave him a firm look.
"Sigh, fine. I'll take the left side of the street, you take the right. Let these Germans feast their eyes on the graceful moves of your boy, Deadpool." Despite his complaints, Deadpool rushed out of the shielded area with weapons ready.
"That's the right... Oh, this hopeless kid. Whatever..." Su Ming closed his eyes in exasperation. That guy could never be counted on, even in the heat of battle.
With the help of his cloak, Su Ming shot like a spear toward the opposite end of the street, his greatsword whirling like a windmill.
They had been barricaded in the Reich Chancellery for over half an hour, just as Su Ming had anticipated. The enemy had entirely given up on heavy weaponry, opting instead to send in assault teams from various directions.
They couldn't break through the front entrance, which Su Ming held firmly. Repeated charges crashed like waves against a cliff, only to be repelled.
Facing attacks from all directions, Deadpool, Cable, and the others acted as the firefighters, moving to counter every surge of enemy troops.
Fortunately, there were plenty of weapons to scavenge, and they had enough ammo to hold out for a while. As Su Ming hacked through the advancing cyborg soldiers, he wondered whether he should use the ace up his sleeve that he'd saved for Apocalypse.
But he decided to wait. He still had confidence that Apocalypse would defeat Kang, even though he couldn't see the battle directly. The outco was becoming clear.
"Stranglehold, cover for a bit. I need a smoke."
The symbiote conveyed its dissatisfaction, insisting that it was "we" who were Stranglehold, and Su Ming shouldn't call it that alone.
Leaning against the wall by the door, Su Ming removed his helt to smoke and ponder other issues. He had his own codena and saw no need to share one with the symbiote. To him, the symbiote was more like a parasite—one that should just behave.
Now wasn't the ti for debates about identity. The symbiote couldn't resist Su Ming's will; its countless tendrils were busy firing scavenged rifles out at the enemy.
"Damn it, Apocalypse isn't back yet. This is such a hassle. Listen, Stranglehold, guns aren't disposable. You need to learn how to change magazines. Co on, I'll teach you a tactical reload."
Symbiotes learn various skills from their hosts, shaping their abilities accordingly.
However, they also have unique preferences.
For instance, the symbiote Lasher preferred animals, often bonding with canine hosts, so it usually looked like a dog with a muddy yellow coat.
Venom liked biting heads, Carnage favored morphing into large lee weapons like a Swiss army knife, and Scorn preferred female hosts.
For so reason, Stranglehold seed to have a peculiar fondness for ranged attacks—a rarity among symbiotes.
Symbiotes' strengths lie in enhancing their hosts' strength, speed, and durability—not in improving aim.
Firearms are external tools, offering little synergy with symbiotes.
Of course, there are exceptions, like Scorn, an electronic symbiote that can interface with any electronic device and transform into various advanced weapons.
Maybe Stranglehold aspired to a similar path? What exactly had it seen in Su Ming's mind?
As Stranglehold mowed down the German soldiers at the door, it mulled over these questions.
It had seen Su Ming's mories of Venom in the comics, where Venom spawned offspring that eventually overpowered it in strength and power.
Stranglehold thought Venom was foolish. Why bother spawning progeny when your host is practically unkillable? Even if the host dies, the symbiote itself would be fine. Creating offspring only seed like an unnecessary complication.
Stranglehold resolved never to produce offspring. Life was good now—enhanced by the X-tal's energy, it never had to worry about its host's stamina and could stay active indefinitely.
With a host who was already among the strongest, why create competition?
It wasn't interested in that.
It even had plans to evolve vocal organs to learn human speech.
While Su Ming and the others held the Reich Chancellery's walls and windows as cover, engaging in a fierce gunfight with the German troops, a fiery streak suddenly shot across the sky, resembling a cot.
Perhaps drawn by the commotion, the flaming figure adjusted course and headed straight toward them.
A human figure wreathed in flas descended from the sky, landing at the entrance of the Reich Chancellery.
"Stop! Everyone, please stop fighting!"
Su Ming sighed—clearly, the newcor had no grasp of what war ant.
You can't just shout for a ceasefire in English on a battlefield and expect anyone to listen.
"Such a naive kid... let show him the reality of this world."
Hiding behind the door, Su Ming clearly saw that the new arrival was Jim Hammond. It looked like this guy had decided to join the fight after all.
But right now, he wasn't the future S.H.I.E.L.D. agent—just a beat cop with less than two months on the job.
Thinking of his future prospects, Su Ming tucked his helt under his arm and cupped his hands to his mouth.
"Angriff!"
He shouted in German from behind the door, urging the German soldiers to attack.
The sight of the Torch's hellfire-like effect had indeed montarily stunned the troops. But Su Ming's precise German command snapped them back to reality.
They were German soldiers, after all. Even if a demon from hell stood before them, they would make him taste their bullets first.
In an instant, the Torch's figure was swallowed by a torrent of gunfire, dirt and debris kicking up into the doorway where Su Ming stood.
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