New Identity ~ MCU/SWCW Story

|<Chapter Twenty-Three>|

And we're back! After this chapter, I think I'll go ahead and revise a few of the older ones before uploading a new one.

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   Ashley forgot how much she didn't miss the feeling of her face getting slammed into concrete.

   The teenager hadn't expected a pleasant time when Strucker informed her of the basic training course she was required to complete, but this brought pain to another level. Ashley had never realized how much she relied on the enhanced instincts that her powers supplied her with in physical combat. She had simply imagined that all reflexes were naturally like that, but she had quickly learned otherwise as she tried facing these soldiers with the power inhibitor in use. Every punch she normally would've dodged with ease was landed on her. Feigning strikes could no longer be detected as easily either, leaving her wide open for that sly kick or slash. Combat was nearly impossible with her being rendered blind in the way of senses. 

   Multiple times the girl had requested for the inhibitor to be removed, but Strucker would simply brush her off.

   "In all due time," he'd say with that confident smile of his. Then he'd go on to assure her that training without her powers was necessary for her development and that he'd have the inhibitor removed when he saw fit. However, Ashley could easily see right through his facade and realized that they wanted to remain to have the upper hand on her, therefore her powers proved to be a complication that had to be removed for the time being.

   Manipulative bastard.

   She despised the fact that she had to work with him. Ashley detested the man for no other reason than just disliking his personality, but she knew that she didn't have much of a choice. S.H.I.E.L.D. needed to be taken down. It was a malicious window pane that needed to be shattered and have each shard of glass individually locked away in somewhere where it would be long forgotten. If that didn't do the trick, then perhaps it would just need to be burned to the point where there weren't even ashes.

   Somehow, and someway, she would find a way to be that person that swung the hammer into it.

    "вставай слабая девочка! вставать!" {Get up weak girl! Get up!} The soldier spat at her. While in training, the girl had picked up on a few phrases of Russian since that was usually what the soldiers would speak. Ashley snarled at the insult and threw herself off the ground, then brought her arms in front of her in a ready position. The teenager was pretty sure that one of them had been fractured, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

    This time, Ashley didn't bother pulling her punches. If the soldier wanted to mess with her, she would show him what she's got.

    He still struck her first, but she didn't bother batting an eye at her aching jaw as she dodged his next attack and used her golden opportunity to join the game. With only one eye open, considering that the other one had just been socked and stung to no end, she concentrated all of her anger and resentment into one singular strike.

   It might've been sadistic to grin at the man writhing on the floor after she absolutely unloaded a devil of a punch precisely into his liver, but she couldn't bring herself to care in the slightest. She even went to the effort of throwing in a series of meticulously-placed kicks following his collapse. The cuts and bruises littering her skin burned a little bit less as she watched the soldier heave in pain.

   "Слезь с пола, маленькая девочка," {Get off the floor, little girl} she mocked before spitting up blood next to him. She wiped the crimson liquid dripping from her lips with the side of a tattered sleeve and sneered at him before walking out of the room.