The military base was loud in the way only soldiers could make it.
Cards slapped against a folding table. Someone had found a battered radio and was trying to tune it between stations. A few men sat on crates with bottles in hand, talking over one another about leave, home, and every terrible decision they planned to make once their boots hit American soil.
"I'm telling you," one soldier said, pointing a card at the man across from him, "first thing I do, I'm finding a beach."
"You hate sand."
"I hate this sand. Civilian sand is different."
"That makes no sense."
"It makes perfect sense."
Laughter rolled through the tent.
Frank Castle sat near the edge of the group, a hand of cards held loosely in one hand. He was quieter than the others, listening more than talking.
One of the soldiers beside him leaned over.
"What about you, Castle?"
Frank glanced up.
"What about me?"
"What are you doing when we get back?"
Frank looked down at the cards in his hand.
For a moment, his expression softened.
"Spending time with my family."
The table went silent.
Then someone laughed.
"Look at Frank Castle," another soldier said, shoving his shoulder. "Family man."
"Guy's getting soft on us."
Frank scoffed, but there was no heat in it.
"Yeah, yeah. Keep talking."
"You going to wear an apron too?"
"I'll wear one while I beat the hell out of you."
That earned another round of laughter.
For a few seconds, everything was normal.
Then the tent flap opened.
A Sergeant walked in.
Two officers followed him.
Behind them came several people in full hazmat suits.
The room fell quiet.
Every soldier stood.
"Attention!"
The Sergeant held up a hand.
"At ease."
They relaxed, though not by much.
The hazmat team moved to the far side of the tent, wheeling in several reinforced cases. The metal boxes were black, marked with warning labels none of the soldiers could read from where they stood.
One of the younger men frowned.
"Sir, is this our next assignment?"
The Sergeant looked over the group.
"Correct, son."
He paced slowly between the tables.
"One more job, then you all get to go home."
That got their attention.
"The target is a terrorist compound. Deep in enemy territory. Night operation. Strike team goes in, neutralises the target, clears the site. No questions asked."
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Ultra Responsibility (My Hero Academia X Spider-Man Reader)
FanfictionYou all know the origin story of radioactive bug bites; with great power comes great responsibility. But what if this time it was different? What if you were born with the powers of Spider-Man? After the tragic fate of your loved ones, take the mant...
