The shadows surged.
They lunged toward the Winter Soldier like sentient wolves, snarling with unseen teeth. They moved with precision and hunger—Alexander's will transformed into living darkness. Each tendril snapped forward with a speed that defied logic, weaving through the air like black lightning. Bucky raised his metal arm to brace, eyes narrowing, body coiled like a spring.
The first wave wrapped around him—tight, fast, unrelenting. It knocked his rifle from his back and dragged him across the data chamber's floor, gouging deep streaks in the metal panels. Sparks sprayed from the servers as he slid. Steel twisted. Circuits flared.
Bucky twisted violently, slamming his cybernetic fist into the writhing tendrils. The shadows recoiled, shrieking as they dispersed like smoke torn by a gale. He pushed to one knee, eyes now fully locked on Alexander.
Alexander advanced.
With every step, more darkness poured from beneath his boots—shadow folding over shadow. They rose like smoke, weaving into blades and serpents, coiling around his arms and shoulders like living armor. His presence distorted the air.
"You're not the only weapon HYDRA programmed," he said coldly. His voice echoed with a distortion unnatural to human ears. "But I broke my leash."
Bucky lunged.
His left arm came down like a sledgehammer—fast, brutal, and silent. The blow collided with a wall of shadow. It bent, then snapped back, redirecting the force and sending Bucky stumbling. But he didn't falter long.
He flipped back mid-air, landing with catlike grace. Dust rose around his boots. Then he charged again.
His boots thundered against the floor. Shadow blades swirled toward him—dozens of them. He spun between them, deflecting two with his forearm before sliding beneath a third. One clipped his shoulder, slicing fabric and drawing blood.
Across the chamber, Steve groaned, one hand on his ribs, the other gripping his shield. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He pushed himself up against a shattered console, breathing heavily, eyes widening at the escalating clash.
"Stop! Both of you!" he yelled, voice raw.
They didn't.
Bucky's assault intensified. His punches came faster, more precise, blurring between trained technique and pure rage. Alexander matched him blow for blow, shadows clashing against steel with the sound of thunder. Each impact shook the floor, knocking over towers of equipment. Data cores blinked erratically. One monitor exploded.
"Alexander!" Steve shouted again. "That's not the enemy!"
Alexander didn't respond immediately. His expression remained focused—emotionless.
"Then he needs to remember who he is—fast," he muttered.
Bucky landed a hard punch to Alexander's side. The sound was sickening, but Alexander didn't fall. He vanished into his own cloak like ink spreading across water.
He reappeared behind Bucky in an instant.
A blade of pure shadow hovered inches from the assassin's throat.
The moment froze.
Then Steve stepped between them.
Shield raised.
His body, bruised and bloodied, stood firm.
"I said stop."
The shadow blade halted. It quivered in the air, then dissolved into mist.
Bucky's breathing was heavy. His metal arm trembled. His eyes weren't empty now—they were confused. Uncertain.
Alexander lowered his hand.
Before anyone could speak, the entire chamber jolted violently. Lights flickered. The floor vibrated beneath their feet like a quake rising from the earth's core.
A shrill alarm blared through the room—different from the previous ones.
Urgent. Final.
Monroe's voice came through the comm, sharp and clipped.
"They've activated Insight," he said breathlessly. "Launch countdown initiated. Ninety seconds."
All three men turned toward the central terminal.
On the main screen, three helicarriers began to rise from their underground docks. Engines roared. Massive doors peeled open to reveal shafts of morning light.
The sky was no longer empty.
End of Chapter 105
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