The ground smoked where the last Skitarii had fallen, its remains twisted into slag and scorched metal. Abomination's chest heaved with exertion, though no fatigue marked his posture—only instinctual bloodlust, sharpened by mutation and unchecked anger.

Then the wind shifted.

A soundless pulse passed through the air—subtle, unnatural. Space distorted by the briefest flicker of violet light.

He arrived.

Not from the sky, but through it—folded between moments, unfolding into presence. The Mechanicus tech-priest stood still, robes unmoving despite the breeze; his presence was discordant with everything around him. No ceremony. No war cry. Just precision.

Luthar optics gleamed behind his mask, multiple data lenses rotating in synchronized whirs as his gaze swept across the devastated block. Smoke curled around his armored frame, caught in the faint hum of a distortion field. He carried no visible weapon until he moved.

A gesture, subtle. A mechadendrite slithered forward, handing him a weapon forged in secrecy: a Martian-pattern graviton arc-carbine—humming with restrained annihilation.

Across the ruined street, General Ross froze beside the wrecked command vehicle. Beside him, Bruce Banner's eyes narrowed as the newcomer stepped forward, heedless of danger.

"What the hell is another freak?" Ross began, raising binoculars.

Betty's voice was low and uncertain. "He doesn't look... human."

Bruce didn't respond. His gaze was fixed.

The Abomination turned and roared like a beast that was ready to tear everything apart.

Luthar calmly raised the carbine.

He fired once.

The round struck Abomination dead-center—no explosion, no sound—only force. A crushing field warped gravity itself, condensing Blonsky's chest inward for a split second before the beast stumbled, snarling in fury.

Of course, it didn't kill him; it's just irrelevant to him.

Luthar adjusted. No second shot. He was waiting now.

The monster lunged.

A concrete-cracking blow, wide enough to pulp an APC, swung toward the priest's head.

Luthar didn't move; he didn't need to, as he had already calculated the impact strength.

The strike landed and bounced.

An energy field shimmered pale blue for a fraction of a second. The kinetic force dispersed in waves across an invisible barrier hugging his skin—a conversion field, too finely tuned for this world. Abomination staggered, confused by the lack of damage. 

From the distant sidelines, Ross stared in disbelief. "Did that thing... just block a full hit?!"

Banner exhaled slowly. "That looks like an energy barrier—adaptive? Self-modulating?"

His tone shifted; he didn't understand how the technology had advanced that much.

Luthar turned his head slightly. The mechanical voice that followed was modulated and neutral but carried the edge of judgment.

He took the first step, then another step forward.

"You are all about brute force, not even suitable to become cannon fodder."

He raised the carbine again. No haste. Just calibration.

The Abomination, hearing this, got angry and prepared to use his strength.

He charged with reckless abandon, limbs rippling with mutated muscle, concrete cracking under each thunderous step. The air itself seemed to recoil from the force of his approach.

Luthar dropped the carbine with calm deliberation—metal clattering against the broken asphalt, forgotten. As the creature's clawed hand swung toward him in a vicious arc, Luthar stepped forward—not back—into the blow's path.

The strike came.

But it never landed.

Luthar's hand shot up and *caught* the Abomination's forearm mid-swing.

The impact should have pulverized a tank. Instead, it stopped cold, servo-motors whirring with barely audible strain as Luthar's skeletal fingers *locked around the beast's wrist*.

Before the Abomination could register what happened, a blade deployed.

Humming low, its phase-field whispered reality into pieces—a slender, high-frequency mono-molecular vibroblade*, its edge flickering faintly with a distortion halo.

Luthar dragged the weapon in a clean arc *across the inside of the Abomination's arm*, slicing tendon and sinew-like fabric. The creature screamed—howled—jerking backward violently.

Flesh recoiled from the wound as if trying to escape the damage. The cut hadn't merely torn—it had *rewritten* part of the monster's biology, leaving a gap the body struggled to interpret, let alone heal.

Abomination staggered, clutching the mutilated limb.

Luthar stood motionless. "Stop struggling," he said.

Another roar. Abomination lunged again, mouth wide, intent on tearing him apart with fang and fury.

Luthar waited. Then **moved**, smooth and unhurried. He shifted to the side, let the beast's momentum overreach, and **slammed his augmented palm upward**, seizing the creature's lower jaw mid-bite. With inhuman strength, he **wrenched the head back**, exposing the throat and gullet.

The carbine still lay on the ground. Luthar's eyes flicked as he—in one fluid motion—retrieved with precision. In a single motion, he raised the carbine once more.

And jammed it into the Abomination's mouth.

KRRMMM—ZZZHM—KRRMMM

The graviton arc-carbine unleashed point-blank hell. Space folded violently. Gravity condensed inside the monster's skull—imploding nerves, cracking bone from within. The first blast made the eyes bulge. The second collapsed the sinus cavity into dust.

The third part cookedthe frontal lobe into black ichor.

Abomination stumbled, screamed, *vomited blood and shattered teeth*. His regeneration faltered—not failing, but confused, unstable. Smoke poured from his throat. His shriek was wet and guttural, no longer angry but desperate.

Luthar released him and started thinking about what to do. Killing him is easy, but it feels like it would be a waste, as studying him to create more green monsters, he wasn't interested in unstable soldiers.

For the first few seconds, Luthar just stood over the crippled beast, its spasms slowing into twitching groans. Smoke hissed from its jaw. The air was thick with a chemical stench—blood, ozone, and ruptured muscle.

.

He turned slightly, gaze drifting to the distant observers of the helicopter, which was getting closer.

He lifted his wrist and spoke, voice cold and clipped. "Lily. Prepare a containment place for the new guest."

A faint beep confirmed she had received the message. After this, Luthar started walking to Rumlow, who was still on the ground, broken but alive.

Author's note: I want to know if I should the put the link about the chapter or below the chapter by the way I just uploaded chapter 169 on Patreon so if you have some extra cash In your bank account you can join me on Patreon. Of course if you don't have you can just just share my novels with others or give me some votes and give me valuable advice. 

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