May 11th 2013
I had long ago considered that there was a real chance my body wouldn't be able to keep up with the enhancements I wished to gather. I'm surprised it had held out this long in the first place to be honest. I had Sterns' genius and the aid of the Think Tank to thank for that. But I had always known it couldn't last, which is why I had gone after Arnim Zola's secrets last year. The technology had allowed me to save Phineas, but it had also been a test-run of sorts. It had shown me how to replicate, and even improve upon, Zola's methods of cheating death. Transferring his essence from one vehicle to the next.
Now that I knew how to do it, it was time to use that technology on myself.
So, I had the failing body, I had the means for the perfected essence transfer (both technologically and magically) but I still needed a suitable receiver.
It's base powerlevel and potential for energy containment and absorption had to surpass my current body or I could repeat this whole song and dance every five years or so. Meaning it would be very difficult to actually build, which is why I wanted to hire the Dwarves in the first place. I had also considered the golden people of Sovereign, but I was somewhat more hesitant in approaching them. I knew what triggers and pressure points I could use on the Dwarves, but I wasn't entirely sure on what I could use to bribe the Sovereign.
In all likelihood, they'd either want my DNA or, if they got greedy, one of the Infinity Stones. Not exactly a trade I'm comfortable with to say the least. Still, their skill was undeniable and their firewalls damned impressive, meaning that Sterns hadn't been able to remotely plunder their stores of information on bio-augmentation and genetic manipulation during our little trip through space. This meant that, should the Dwarves prove more stubborn than expected, the Sovereign were my second choice.
My third choice were the Kree. Sure, they were a bunch of intergalactic assholes, but their skill and experience with altering the human genome was well proven. Additionally, through Radcliffe's research I had a relatively decent grasp on their overall technology (which was steadily being incorporated into Othrys and slowly trickled down to the general masses) so hopefully I'd be able to catch them should they decide to screw me over. Not to mention, there was a currently helpless bargaining chip still stuck on my planet which I could offer them should it be necessary.
Miss Danvers (no longer Captain as she was dishonourably discharged from the Air Force after our little spat on the day of Natasha's funeral broke the news) had been lying low ever since. Very low. Phineas had kept an eye on her these past two days, even where SHIELD didn't think anyone could look and it didn't paint a pretty picture. For hours after Carter and Rogers got her bundled up in one of SHIELD's safehouses, the burnt woman was nearly catatonic, simply staring at her trembling hands, even as Carter cleaned her off in the shower and got her a new set of clothes. The blond had been under suicide watch on insistence of Rogers, who had been shooting her oddly understanding looks.
It's probably not the first time he's seen a soldier break.
His gut feeling was proven correct: Danvers had to be restrained and sedated two times now. Given it's only been two days since she lost her powers (probably the most traumatic thing to happen to her since she actually got those powers) it was impossible to say how and if she would recover, but Rogers seemed to have faith in her, if the long hours spent at her bed side were any indication.
I got the feeling Carter wanted to be there for the hurting woman as well, but she probably felt too guilty to truly approach her in such a manner. After all, it was her and Fury's paranoia that had led to Danvers' confrontation with me. Sure, it had been fuelled and approved by various people of varying levels of morality within the Government and sure, Fury had paged Danvers the moment demons started popping up in Central Park, so it probably would've been inevitable that Captain Marvel would've ended up on Earth at some point, which meant that it was also inevitable that she and I would end up butting heads eventually.
Still, Carter had been the one who had raised her suspicions about my true motives (which were... almost correct) with the superhuman and now every time she visited said woman, she was met with the broken remains of what might have been the strongest human in the galaxy for the past three decades.
That shit can weigh heavily on your conscience. I should know.
It was the power of said human that led to my current problem. Tremendous amounts of energy contained into a too small package, but the sheer level of power and my own metaphysical mantle as a Lord of Light meant that the energy of a different dimension also kept wanting to seep into said package. Right now, my own body was acting as a sort of plug against the influx of Light Dimension energy, but if I should power up that connection would grow wider, like tearing open a fraying hole in a sweater or something, allowing more and more energy to pour through.
So, if I powered down again, there was even more energy being squeezed into a too small package and the tear to the Light Dimension being widened meant that the plug didn't fully work and even more energy could keep pouring in.
There were some measures I could take to help ease my problems. One was periodically using the Time Stone on myself, turning back my body to the moment I just took Captain Marvel's energy, but this didn't actually do anything to solve the core issue, it just reduced the symptoms. I didn't want to turn back Time even further to before I took said energy for two reasons.
One: I didn't know what would happen to the energy if I did. Presumably, it would find its way back into Danvers' body, which might end up problematic. I had drained her dry of her personal reservoirs of power, but the wellspring from which that power came still existed. It was entirely possible that, even if only trickles of said power had returned to her, if I were to instantly return all of the energy that I had taken to her currently very frail body it would prove too much for her to handle and she'd go... splat. That, or perhaps even worse, it didn't make her go splat which would send a fully powered up and messed up Captain Marvel coming after my ass again.
Considering that exchange had led to me inadvertently slowly blowing up my own body, I wasn't really keen to repeat that whole song and dance.
Two: I was loathe to give up such a massive boost in power. It was difficult to quantify how strong I was right now, but I knew that I had been roughly on the same level as Thor and the Hulk before I stole Captain Marvel's power. The combination of Extremis and Gamma-enhanced Erskine formula probably already put me at the low ranges of that vague tier in sheer strength. The Amber Armor enhancement (a perfected version of what Luke Cage had been given in prison) had given me an additional boost in strength, though relatively minor. Perhaps I could lift roughly a ton more at the highest estimate? The biggest benefit of that had been to my durability, which was insanely high. Luke Cage could shrug off high-calibre gunfire without even flinching: I'm pretty sure I can do the same with a tank shell. Combine that with my frankly insanely high regeneration and even the little damage I received wouldn't last for very long. Then there was Jessica's field. In her, it had allowed a slip of a woman to lift about 25 times her own bodyweight without much strain. In me, with the Heart-Shaped Herb making sure everything was playing nice and operating at maximum efficiency, that was pushed to nearly 40. Considering that before that I could easily bench press multiple tons, and after that enhancement I was fairly certain I could go toe to toe with Thor, if he isn't using Raiden-mode and I'm not using my Chi.
But this? This new power alone was capable of similar feats. Combined with the rest of me... well, I'm fairly sure that any fist fight between me and Thanos at this point will mirror his brawl with the Hulk in the opening of Infinity War, just with him knocked out flat at the end of it intead.
However, since I can't safely access most of that power I can't ask Oliver to drop me off at Sanctuary in order to have it out with my personal bogeyman for these past twenty years. New body first, purple ass-kicking later.
So, what did I need for my new body?
The Dwarves are good, they are better than good even, they are literally the best in the entire universe. But at their core, they are blacksmiths. I have little doubt that they can fashion a Vision-like body for me, but for a full transference of my essence and powers, a little extra oomph is needed, especially on the biological side of things.
I already had the Particle Infusion Chamber, now I just needed to combine it with Cho's Cradle. This would allow the Dwarves to create a Vibranium template which could then be subsequently infused with powers, like with Gravitonium. The body would be based off my current DNA, allowing for Extremis/Gamma-enhanced Erskine formula/Jessica Field powers/Heart-Shaped Herb enhancement. I could probably also relatively safely incorporate Celestial and Asgardian DNA by that point too. By turning the PIC/Cradle combination into a tank filled with Amber Armor enhancement, the new body would have Amber Armor enhancement as well and then there are several strengthening spells (taken both from the Sanctums and Randolph's Asgardian knowledge) as well. It's highly likely that my Chi will transfer with me, and if not I'm going to infuse the building blocks of my new body with my Chi beforehand anyways, much like I did with Phineas' phylactery and my own armor pieces.
That was the plan, so I just needed to get the required materials.
Cho and Hall were on their way, so I'd get access to their research soon enough. I'd like to speed things along, but scientists on their level were quite ornery and if I pushed them too hard they might end up deciding not to come to Othrys.
The waves-, no, the tsunamis we were making in the scientific community by publishing (parts of) our research and our discoveries from outer space meant that not everyone liked us. Especially the old elite, who didn't really appreciate being knocked off their pedestal and being left in the dust by us. Sure, the majority of the scientific community would give up an arm and a leg for a chance to work at Othrys, but most of them were young or engaged in big, adaptable research fields or wanted to make strides in the entirely new ones Othrys had introduced over the years.
Naturally, this doesn't really have much appeal to those who already have spent their entire lives dedicated to a single subject which now has either become obsolete, irrelevant or even worse, proven wrong.
Cho and Hall were definitely part of the 'old' elite of renowned geniuses. However, Cho's ideas were beyond the technology available to her before Othrys and Wakanda entered the world stage, so she was fairly pleased with coming to work for me as long as I gave her sufficient equipment and didn't bother her too much.
Hall was a slightly different case. Six years ago, a peer review on one of his papers regarding theoretical applications of Gravitonium in modern applications and scientific fields had called him "absolutely brilliant, if not exactly on the same page as reality."
In short, Hall's obsession with a material so rare most people agreed it didn't exist outside of mathematic simulations had caused him to be ridiculed, but the sheer brilliance behind said mathematics had also caused for grudging respect. This had rubbed Hall the wrong way, being stuck on the fringes of the scientific community for so long, even though everyone agreed that if he actually focused on real science he'd have a real shot at a Noble Prize even and the man had developed an obsession with Gravitonium.
In his mind, if he could just get his hands on the stuff, then all of his previous work previously labelled as "genius, but whacky make-belief" would end up solely being labelled "genius". Of course, in the canon time-line he literally got his hands on the stuff, and then some, but that shouldn't be a problem in Othrys.
In addition to Phineas keeping an eye on things, my fortress was probably one of the few superscientist bases that actually obeyed all OSHA regulations. There's very little chance of the (admittedly annoying at times) man falling into the weird goop on my watch.
Getting my hands on Cho and Hall would take care of the PIC/Cradle side of things, but there was still the matter of what my body would be built from. The base of it would be Vision-like, and though I had some additional ideas on what to incorporate into it, that still meant I'd need a lot of Vibrianium.
And my personal stores were running low.
Very low.
Between the amounts I needed for my Aurelion Armor and armaments and the amounts needed in various parts of Othrys' construction and the stuff that was requisitioned by some of my Think Tank...
At this point, I'm pretty sure I have about enough left for a whole... left foot.
So, the last material needed was Vibranium, which would mean paying a visit to Erik back in Wakanda.
Additionally, there were two things that I want to have finished up here on Earth before I visit Nidavellir. I don't know how long it'll take me to convince the Dwarves, nor how long actually building my new body is gonna take them, assuming I can convince them in the first place. With all the discussions surrounding the fight between me (and thus Othrys) and Captain Marvel (and thus the US Government and to a lesser extent the UN as well) having barely died down, I'd like to leave behind some stability before I leave.
The first thing that needs to be resolved is Jessica's situation with the Ghost Rider. I need to free her and get her and the kids back in Othrys where they're safe in case... in case the whole new body idea doesn't pan out. I'm not leaving them in the claws of a demonic spirit for any longer than absolutely necessary. One of the requirements for that is having a new host ready for the Spirit so he'll leave Jessica without raising a fuss and harming her or the children. And I have just the guy in mind for that.
The second thing that needs to be resolved is the aftermath of my clash with the Government's latest attempt at exerting some measure of control over me. When I went to go steal away the Ancient One from the UN, I had been chatting up one sleazy politician after the other and by now all the paperwork should be close to finish to enact the last stage of that particular little plan. I'll probably string it along until I have had a look at Hall's research in Gravitonium and its applications, but I could push it though earlier depending on how the other situations would develop.
As I sit in the dark in my office, my face barely illuminated by the soft glow coming from several of my holographic monitors hovering over my massive desk, I rest my chin on my fist as I contemplate on what to act first.
'Cho and Hall will resolve themselves, they are already on their way so I'll deal with them once they arrive. That leaves Killmonger and Jessica. I want to help Jess out first, more than anything. But without a replacement host, there's not really much I can do there other than stomping her enemies. And I don't give a shit about them, I just want Jess and the kids back, meaning that even if it might be cathartic, it won't help. Best I can do for her is get a replacement host ready as soon as possible. Killmonger can wait. He'll try to drag things out and stall, but I should get my hands on the Vibranium I need within a day, two max. So: replacement Ghost Rider first, helping Jess second, twisting Erik's arm third.'
Plan finalized, I stand up giving a lazy wave of my hand, causing the screens to immediately shut off. Overhead, hidden lights rise to a soft glow as I walk out of my office, allowing the vault-like door to fall shut behind me as I make my way to my bedroom in contemplative silence.
Shrugging on my pyjamas, I flop down on the massive bed, clasping my hands over my straining chest as I stare at the ceiling. I remain in that position for roughly half an hour, my eyes staring blankly ahead as sleep keeps evading me. Slowly, I turn my head to the left, to the empty side of the bed... to Jessica's side. For long moments I simply look at the empty pillow beside me in complete silence as I wait for sleep to finally come. In the end, as the shadows begin to lengthen unnaturally, unseen things creeping closer to my bed with flickering teeth and maddened eyes, a hushed chittering on the edge of my hearing, I give up.
Flexing my telepathy, I knock myself out.
It has been a week now in which I have not truly slept.
May 12th 2013 23:08
As I was sitting on a couch that was very nearly groaning underneath my weight in the dark, I resisted the urge to check the time. Yes, my target was late, but only by a few minutes: nothing out of the ordinary. Additionally, I had asked Phineas to have a subroutine keep an eye on the man and nothing he'd seen had indicated the target being aware of how... badly tonight was going to turn out for him.
Sure enough, my AI was proven correct when I heard a car pull up into the driveway. Keeping silent, I heard the engine shut off, the car door open and close, keys sliding smoothly into the front door as unseen security measures powered down, the door opening and closing, footsteps leisurely making their way to the living room/kitchen combination that I was waiting in...
Several lights in the ceiling and above the kitchen counter lit up as the man remained completely unaware to my presence, softly humming to himself as he loosened his tie. With a soft sigh the man grabbed a bottle of scotch off the cooking island, walking up to a cabinet and easily rummaging through it in search of a glass.
I was somewhat disappointed to be honest: from what I knew of the man, he was incredibly dangerous and adept at thinking on his feet. For him to completely miss me like that... well he was aging I suppose and-
My eyes briefly widen in surprise as a hot slug of metal flattens itself against the dead centre of my forehead. I don't even budge though, merely tilting my head forwards, allowing the deformed metal to peel off and fall into my open palm.
Slowly, a grin stretches across my face, before I glance up at the shooter from the corner of my eye, satisfaction welling up inside me when I see him pale in fright when it truly registers with him who he just shot in the head.
"And here I was beginning to wonder if that old, grandfatherly facade you always put up might have more truth to it than I had realized. Good evening, Mister Pierce." I say lazily as I rise to my full height, my head nearly brushing the ceiling.
Said Hydra-leader unintentionally takes a half step back from me as I slowly approach him, glancing down at the Desert Eagle still sitting heavily in his hand. With a sigh (and I just barely caught the sight tremble in his voice), he puts the useless iron on the counter behind him. He gazes longingly at the bottle of scotch, clearly wondering whether or not he should've gone for a glass instead of a gun.
He reaches towards it, but by then I step into his personal space, positively looming over the short man, who cranes his neck as he looks up at my shadowed face, only my devilishly glowing eyes visible, staring back down at him. My enormous hand fully encloses his brittle wrist, halting his fingers mere inches from the smooth amber liquid, though not gripping hard enough to hurt.
Looking from the hand that's holding onto him to the hellish eyes above him, Pierce manages to swallow once, his voice coming out soft and painfully resigned.
"No?" he asks, and again the tremble is just barely audible and if it weren't for my senses I'd probably have missed it entirely.
Commendable composure, considering we both know how this night is going to end for him.
I smile again, but it's a terrifying sight, completely void of any warmth and humor. With just the barest amounts of force, I twist my hand holding his wrist, until his own palm is facing up. I allow the flattened bullet to drop into his waiting hand and Pierce doesn't quite manage to hold back a wince as the hot metal falls onto his aged skin.
I squeeze slightly harder and his eyes flick back up to meet my own again and their glow intensifies just slightly.
"No." I answer, letting go of his hand.
Pierce takes a deep breath at that, emotions storming inside of his mind. Outwardly however, he merely gives a nod, slipping the bullet in his pants pocket, before he straightens somewhat. He tugs on his sleeves, checking his cufflinks before he tightens his tie again and squares his shoulders.
"Very well." He says softly and without my prompting, the man walks in front of me, leading me out of his house, ready to die.
"Where to then? I assume you're not going to leave any remains behind?" he says, affecting a nonchalant tone even as his tumultuous thoughts betray him to my senses.
I step up beside him, resting my shovel-sized hand on his left shoulder, exerting just the slightest amounts of force.
"Not for me to decide." I rumble softly, allowing my amusement to clearly leak through in my voice.
This guy has been a hidden thorn in my side for far too long. Never high up enough my list of priorities to immediately deal with as something else was always popping up that demanded my immediate attention instead. But never harmless, never content to abide to the new status quo. Culminating in the latest fiasco with Captain Marvel and now my subsequently looming death.
That whole "she's not Air Force, she's on loan as a high level SHIELD agent"-bullshit line Carter came up with? Pierce's idea. He was the one who pulled the necessary strings to keep their entire scheme just barely on the side of legal. Not that it really mattered in the end, between the public's outrage, my own power and the fact that the higher-ups in the Government barely even acknowledges the existence of their own laws in pursuit of whatever it is they set their sights on.
In addition to having had a hand in that whole mess, Pierce was just an evil son of a bitch, considering his role in the Winter Soldier's enslavement and the sadistic glee that he derived from using him as his personal attack dogs against his enemies, both outside and inside of Hydra.
There had been people in my home universe that had been utterly sick and tired of Bucky after the events of Civil War and the rift he caused between the heroes. I had always been ambivalent towards him. Sure, he had been one of Hydra's greatest weapon and in that role had done plenty of evil acts, but I didn't feel like that could be lied entirely at his feet.
It's hardly like he had a choice in the matter after all.
He definitely had to atone for it though. Blood of that magnitude doesn't just wash off, as I know from experience. Luckily for him, I have just the thing.
A flick from my wrist calls a portal into existence, the roof of a building visible on the other side. I quickly step through, Pierce following my lead (not that he has much of a choice, considering I'm still keeping an iron grip on his shoulder), gravel crunching underneath our shoes as the portal falls shut behind us.
"... where-?"
"Don't recognize it? Allow me to jog your memory: Ideal Federal Savings Bank mean anything to you?"
Pierce's eyes widen in shock and if possible he pales even further.
"Ah... I see." He mutters softly as I lead him over towards the door leading to the lower levels.
The door is locked of course and hooked up to alarms, but I barely pause in my stride.
"Phineas. Lights out."
"You got it Michael. All systems dark... now!"
He's barely done speaking before I grasp the handle and brute-force the door open without any effort whatsoever, still dragging Pierce with me. It's a matter of minutes before we've descended all the stories of the building, reaching the basement and maintenance level. Again, a heavy steel door bars our way and again I barely even acknowledge the lock keeping it closed, slamming it open without care or effort.
I can feel Pierce's surprise as my feet unerringly lead us towards the hidden partition in one of the solid looking concrete rooms at the far end of the room filled with equipment and machinery. The feeling is quickly replaced by resignation as some of his suspicions are confirmed: someone high up in Hydra's hierarchy has spilled their secrets. He's wrong in who turned and how I got the information, but it hardly matters and I don't bother correcting him.
Instead, I lightly press the hidden indentation that allows the fake wall to slide away. Behind it, there's a short corridor with several sharp turns. It leads into a square room filled with safe boxes, a massive machine in the centre while a second one sits tucked away in the corner. There's only five people milling about, three of which seem military and the remaining two obviously scientists. All of them look up sharply in surprise when Pierce and I stride into the room. The three meatheads immediately snap up their guns, trained square on my centre mass. Not even giving them the opportunity to react and wanting to get this over with, I whip out my free arm in a wide arc, something metallic soaring through the air in concert with my motions. Faster than a speeding bullet, it closes in on the left-most Hydra goon, before the blur enlarges to its regular size and Harpe slides through his torso with the ease of cutting through a sheet of paper. Before the two parts of the ex-Nazi's body have even hit the ground, it continues on its arc with blinding speed, slicing through the remaining two guards with equal ferocity and speed.
At the end of its arc, it briefly shudders to a stop in mid-air, before it whips back towards my open palm, smacking into my hand hard enough there's a brief displacement of air at the impact, the Asgardian Berserker runes lighting up in concert with the hellish glow in my eyes as I relish in the usual flood of strength that accompanies wielding my weapon.
A little too much, I realize as Pierce lets out a chocked off gasp as my fingers start digging into his frail shoulder. I ease my grip, calming myself down again as the runes on Harpe fade away into dull embers, before with a deft flick of my hand it's returned to miniature size and cleverly hidden up my sleeves, not to dissimilar in appearance to how Loki and Hela summon their daggers and swords respectively.
I briefly check my strength, making sure that I'm not about to tear Pierce's arm off by accident.
He's not mine to kill, after all.
"Oh God... oh, fuck... fucking shit, oh fuck me-!"
Hearing the fearfully muttered words, my attention drifts back to the remaining scientists who are staring at me with wide frightened eyes. I lock eyes with the one on the right, the one who's muttering as he sinks to his knees. Calling upon the might of the Mind Stone slotted in my helmet (carefully folded and shrunken away into a Bluetooth-like attachment behind my ear much like Quill's helmet) I strike out at the scientist's mind with brute force. I don't bother digging deep, not caring about his personal history or anything like that. I simply rip out everything Hydra-related, add it to my stores of existing knowledge and then repeat the process with the other scientist.
They hardly have any scientific knowledge I don't already possess in spades, but at least they're knowledgeable about the Memory Suppressing Machine and Bucky's current condition and past medical records. The Machine was designed by Zola, meaning I already had blueprints and had been perfected by Whitehall who (as one of the few remaining contemporaries of Zola and Red Skull) had been fascinated with the theory behind his colleagues' machinery.
Of course, through him and the research of Kilgrave parents, my own Mind Control Tech was itself a generation or two more advanced than what they had here, being more complete, harder to break and easier to administer.
Meaning that, other than some details regarding Bucky's current mental and physical health, these two particular Nazi scientists were of no use to me. However, considering they were drooling onto the harsh concrete floor, I hardly needed to deal with them myself.
I let go of Pierce's shoulder, my telepathy and telekinesis at the ready, wondering if he'll try to make a break of it and ready to foil his attempt should he be foolish enough to try. Interestingly enough, while the thought of escape does briefly cross his mind, he ultimately decides against it, concluding correctly from what he's seen me do to his colleagues here that he won't even make it beyond three paces before he's cut down.
As much as I dislike him on every possible level, I have to admit it takes balls to just stand there and not fidget as you watch the strongest being on the planet wake up your executioner.
Which is incidentally literally as easy as pushing a button on the side of his Cryostasis Chamber. There's a great flow of steam as the cover lifts away, drugs steadily pumping through tubes feeding into ports on Bucky's back, waking him up and counteracting the negative effects from the stasis. Steve had Erskine's perfected formula, allowing him to go into stasis in temperatures higher than what the Cryostasis Chamber operated at, while also allowing him to come out of it without ill effect, even if it took a little while.
Bucky however didn't have Erskine's formula. Hydra put something in him, that's for sure, considering he could fight Steve on relatively even footing. But between his lessened enhancements, the far colder temperatures of the Cryostasis Chamber and the need to be awoken and ready immediately meant that there was a slew of drugs, stimulants and health packs needed to wake up the Winter Soldier as the freezing cold dissipated.
Of course, what this meant was that he was combat ready from the moment he regained awareness, his eyes snapping open and finding mine on eyelevel, despite his elevated position inside of the Chamber.
I briefly have a Déjà-vu to when I first awoke the other Winter Soldiers and I almost have to laugh when once again I'm immediately attacked without warning. Bucky is somewhat more fortunate than the Soldier I fought in Siberia however. First off, I don't really want to hurt him too bad. I don't really need him to like me or anything, but things will go much smoother if he doesn't see us as enemies. Secondly, his first impulse is to strike out with his metallic arm, sending the steel-alloy knuckles crashing into my chin.
There's a loud clang! at the impact, but... nothing else, really. I barely even budged, even as the servos in his arm give a distressed whine as he tests his strength against mine. Before he can shift his forwards leaning position into a solid kneestrike at my solar plexus and really hurt his organic parts, I shoot forwards, one hand on his rising knee, holding it back without crushing it, while my other hand slaps into the centre of his chest, pushing him back against the padded inner wall of the Chamber.
Before he can truly begin to struggle, I force my way into his mind.
...
Holy shit, this place is fucked up. I thought Captain Marvel's was a mess, being a stapled together mix of the bits that had been the Kree soldier Vers and the human soldier Carol, but in her at least the original damage had been very refined. Editing and pasting, taking the original baseline and twisting it to whatever needs the Kree had for her.
Bucky... is more like a vase that was smashed to bits, and only parts were taken back to be glued to a cast iron skillet, while the other parts were thrown away. Again and again and again. At his core he's still Bucky, there's not much Zola's mind control could do to truly erase everything he ever was in order to turn him into a blank slate, which is what would have allowed him to recognize Steve and slowly regain his humanity.
But burying those last tortured vestiges is just a mess of scars and trauma, layer after layer almost like sedimentary deposit. Those Hydra assholes... they broke him down into nothing, twisted him into whatever they needed him for and then tore him down to pieces all over again. Chains, cuts, bruises and just gaps crisscrossed every single part of his mental sense of self and of the world.
They had enslaved him, in the most horrid way imaginable. Obedience was all he knew, all that they allowed him to know.
I thought that, between my own efforts in enslaving the other Winter Soldiers, the help I had given to Alisa as she tried to recover from her own mental issues and my brief experience rooting through Danvers' brain would've allowed me to just... tear away whatever fucked up shit Hydra had done to his mind, allowing his original personality to resurface on its own.
This whole mess however, was clearly going to take me some more time.
Luckily, I have just the thing for that.
Not losing the connection between our minds, I clasp the insides of my wrists to each other twice, palms forwards and fingers curled in, before I move them counter-clockwise. And emerald glow lights up at my throat, and Time around us goes... blurry.
It was something similar to what I had Pangborn do during the Chitauri Invasion in order to preserve my new Space Whale Familiar, just on a much smaller scale and instead of stopping time inside the bubble, I sped it up. Or rather, I slowed down the outside of the bubble. I think. It's rather subjective.
What mattered was that hours could pass between me and Bucky, while only a minute would go by from Pierce's perspective. Hours that I immediately put to good use. First up was excising everything Hydra hat put in. The mental activation codes, the therapy, the conditioning, I tore it all out and threw it away. I worked quite roughly for the most part, except in those areas where Hydra had tied some of their mind control torture shit very close together with the original parts of Bucky. They had taken his loyalty (as a person towards his friends and as a soldier towards his superiors) and twisted and hammered it long enough until it became slavish obedience to whoever held his leash.
That took quite some more time and effort to unfuck before I could remove the Hydra influence without taking away even more of what remained of Bucky Barnes. This went on for nearly an hour, or perhaps slightly more (it's hard to tell), before I move on to stapling Bucky's mind back together. Right now, it's a gaping, bleeding mess (metaphorically speaking) so if I don't want him going catatonic the moment I disconnect our minds, he'll need to be somewhat repaired if he ever wants to have a chance at rebuilding himself.
He'll never fully heal from this: too much has been damaged or simply lost in its entirety for the man Bucky once was to ever come back.
But this at least should allow him to regain his sense of self and his autonomist, becoming a free man instead of Hydra's slave, much like he had eventually managed to in the canon timeline. I didn't erase his remaining memories though. As much as his evil acts weren't his fault, he still committed them and he'll have to atone for them.
Starting right now, I decide, letting the Time bubble fade away as I pull back out of Bucky's mind. As I do, his eyes snap open as he lets out a breathless gasp, his pupils widely contracting and dilating for a few moments as his mouth opens and closes several times. Then I hear something flex violently inside of his body and immediately step to the side. And not a moment too soon, as Bucky stumbles out of the Cryostasis Chamber onto his hands and knees and violently tries emptying his stomach. Only bile comes out, and as he tries to work himself back to his feet with shuddering, jerking motions, I hand him a water bottle that one of the scientists had standing on his desk.
He barely even acknowledges me, gratefully gulping down the water, though he still has the presence of mind not to drink too fast so he doesn't end up throwing it all up again later. Even then, it takes him less than a minute to finish the bottle, letting it fall to the floor as he lays eyes on the metal hand that had been holding said bottle.
With rapid breaths, he opens and closes the artificial limb several times, experimentally rotating his wrist to and fro before curling it, watching the plates of his bicep slide smoothly over each other. For all that Zola was an evil little troll that should've been smothered in his crib, I had to admit that his work on Bucky's arm was phenomenal. Of course, I had long since used the blueprints for said arm and given them to Radcliffe.
Each arm that Bucky had been outfitted with (this was number eight) had cost roughly between 12 and 16 million dollars to create, with major repairs usually coming in at around 4 to 6 million. That was mostly due to the materials involved, the ridiculously advanced neural network inside and the various actuators and energy cells, with each individual part years ahead of its time and frightingly expensive to make.
Not that much of a problem for Hydra, given their ridiculously deep pockets and penchant of simply taking whatever they wanted instead of properly paying for it, but it hardly made it a good template for mass-produced prosthetics.
Of course, I had similarly deep pockets, as well as a scientist whose engineering skill matched Zola's even before I had enhanced his intellect. It had taken Radcliffe months to find a way to switch out the materials and internal technologies to more affordable alternatives, several months more to find a way to make it mass-producable and then yet again a few more months to improve upon it.
Othrys' specialized, custom-fitted prosthetics had hit the market shortly before Hell Week began, sporting light-weight materials, full range of motion, and a synth-skin sleeve that provided a limited sense of touch. Radcliffe, being the transhumanist that he was, hadn't been content with merely making a replacement human part and had insisted he improve upon it, which is why the arms were all equipped with their own inbuilt smart device, complete with screen and Bluetooth connectivity.
On top of all that, they were even environmentally friendly.
They were cool as shit, and the sheer amount of money they were making me was enormous, even if it paled in comparison to some of my other projects (like the radiation scrubbing one), though I couldn't help a slight feeling of melancholy whenever I noticed the huge spike in orders after Hell Week. The massive amount of orders for child-sized prosthetics didn't really help either.
Still, they were doing a lot of people a lot of good and it all started with the prosthetic currently being studied by wide, disbelieving eyes in front of me. Should Bucky's guilt prove overwhelming, maybe pointing out what the designs of his arm had ended up accomplishing could help ease that guilt. For now though, there was another method available.
"W-what... what is... this? My h-head?" The Winter Soldiers muttered, squeezing his eyes shut and grasping at his temple with his organic hand, flashes of broken memories swirling and roaring throughout his damaged mind, none of them pleasant.
"Bucky Barnes. You were on a mission with the Howling Commandos and Captain America: Steve Rogers."
At the name of his brother in all but blood, Bucky's eyes snap towards mine, completely fixated on me.
"You fell." I continue, and by the flash of pain on his face and the way he screws his eyes shut, I can tell he remembers those final moments on the train and his subsequent awakening. That, and I could literally see said memory as well.
Mind Stone for the win.
"Hydra has taken you. Enslaved you. You've been fighting for a long time now, soldier. Sad to say, you've been fighting for the enemy." I elaborate, and the various assassinations he has been forced to commit flash before his eyes, all throughout the decade, until they land on one in particular.
The rumble of a motorcycle, a snowy road in the middle of the woods, a crashed car and the pained mumblings of a woman's voice.
Bucky stumbles towards one of the desks the scientists had been working at, leaning heavily on it as one trembling hand comes up to his temple again, tears shining in his wild eyes.
"No... H-Howard... not Howard..." he softly mutters in a small, utterly broken voice, and I can't help but feel bad for him.
"For almost seventy years, Hydra has been abusing you, Bucky. Enslaved you and used your skills for their own miserable purpose. Most of your handlers are dead by now though: either the job or just old age. But, one of the most recent ones is right here. And his people still survive. They still long for the evil they have been forcing you to commit for so very long. Wouldn't you like for it to stop? To stop all this pain? To stop having them torture you, strip you down and tear away at who you are? Stand up soldier! The man who fucked over your life is standing right there! The man who thought he could turn one of Captain Roger's men into a Hydra slave! The man who represents every evil act you've ever commited! Time to clean the slate, wouldn't you agree?"
My voice keeps getting more insistent, rising in volume with every sentence until I'm thundering across the room. At my words, Bucky shakily turns towards where Pierce is still standing ramrod straight, though he's definitely sweating at this point. As the Winter Soldier's eyes land on his (now former) handler, his entire body stills, before he rises to his feet with eerie precision. Without taking his eyes off Pierce, or even acknowledging my or the Hydra scientists who are only know shakily working their way back to their hands and knees again, Bucky stalks closer and closer to the Hydra director.
To Pierce's credit, he doesn't take a step back, simply staring down the supersoldier even when they come within touching distance of each other and Bucky still keeps stepping closer. I can see the aged man draw himself up fully, as he barks out a familiar string of seemingly random words at the murderous man in front of him.
"Cтрастное желание, проржавевший, семнадцать, рассвет, печь, девять, доброкачественный, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон!"
Bucky briefly freezes at the words, before he takes the last two steps forwards that bring him almost chest to chest with Pierce, who is definitely panicked now, even as he doesn't allow himself to back away. He has largely accepted that he's going to die the moment he saw me sitting on his couch, but his own pride doesn't allow him to go without at least trying something. There was nothing he could do against me, but against the Winter Soldier he holds out the barest glimmer of something that could be considered hope.
"Soldier, you are to comply! That's an order-!"
Before the last word has even fully left his now dry and cracked lips, Bucky's metal arm shoots forwards, mechanical hand clamping down mercilessly on Pierce's throat as he effortlessly hoists the man up into the air, his feet dangling off the ground, the tips of his shoes not even scraping the concrete floor in their desperate struggling.
"I... don't... take orders from you... anymore..." Bucky growls out, and Pierce's eyes widen for a final time as he realizes this is how he's going to die.
Then there's a dry snap and the sound of crunched up plastic or cardboard, and Bucky opens his mechanical hand, allowing Pierce to drop to the floor with a crushed throat. He's not dead, but judging by his struggled wheezing and the way his hands claw at his ruined and rapidly bruising throat, it won't take long at this rate.
The Winter Soldier evidently doesn't have the patience for this as he violently brings down a boot on Pierce's head, making it burst like an overripe melon.
And thus ends one of the last remaining leaders of Hydra.
Bucky doesn't move for a few moments, boot and pants splattered with viscera as he trembles in fury, before he slowly looks over his shoulder back at me. His mask hides his mouth, but his eyes are blazing with hatred, making his expression easy to figure out.
"What's next?"
Internally I sigh at how he still feels a need to be told what to do. Hopefully, it will fade in time. It certainly had by the time Civil War had rolled around, but he hadn't been healed the way he's now. Who know how his psyche will end up forming this time around.
Outwardly, I reach down, grasping a cowering Nazi scientist in each hand by the scruff of their coats and easily tossing them up and over the desks and balustrade in front of me, allowing them to slam into the bare concrete floor at Bucky's feet with pained yelps and fearful cries.
A wave of my hand and a portal to the night sky above Othrys opens up behind me. I turn to walk through it, before pausing on the other side, glancing back at the waiting super assassin over my shoulder, the orange glow in my iris increasing in intensity at the promise of brutal violence.
"Next? Next comes your Vengeance of course. Good hunting, Sergeant Barnes."
The last thing I see is him reaching for the closest terrified scientist's face with his mechanical arm, but the portal slips shut before the screaming starts.
AN: Sorry this is so short. Originally, I also wanted to include Jessica cleaning up Sowande and Murakami, probably with back up from Michael. Afterwards would be the Dwarves of Nidavellir with a surprise summons at the end. Michael would answer the summons before an opponent he'd last expects pops out of nowhere, inflicting massive damage and instigating a mad scramble towards the end phase of the story. I couldn't get that out, since I've just finished my final exams before I move away. I failed every single one. Yeah, I'm not in a good head space at the moment, so I can't really promise any future updates. The next one might come in a month, two months or maybe even only after I return from Australia. I still wanted to leave you guys with something before I left entirely though, so here this is. I hope you like it. I haven't proofread it thoroughly though, so if you spot any mistakes, feel free to point it out. Also, I used the Ideal Federal Savings Bank here 'cause that's what's shown in the movie, even though to me it looks like it was a temporary set-up because he was in the field in Washington. The wiki however lists it as a Hydra facility, so I kept it in.
Fun Fact: The filming location for the Ideal Federal Savings Bank was the same building in Cleveland where Captain America rescued civilians from the Chitauri in The Avengers.
As always, I want to thank all of my patrons. Given the huge of amounts of expenses that have recently been hitting me, your support has been a lifesaver (which is uncomfortably close to being literal). I cannot thank you enough for your aid, I truly appreciate every single one of you. Don't forget to check my page to see the varying extras that you can claim for the different tiers and always to feel free to PM me with comments and suggestions! IronmanMarkIV, Shaman95, justlovereadin, Daniel Dorfman, Luis Zepeda, DoctorTortoise, DavidJ, CJ Elsen, Carn Krauss, ReaperScythe, RC Oprea, Devon, Kyle Reese, Josh Tucker, RLStrained, Vu, Roman Krupkin, thanks to all of you