Chapter Text
Activity.
Electricity running through him.
His fingers twitch as his systems come back online; how long he’s been out this time he has no idea. Time doesn’t matter that way when you’re a machine.
The LED on his right temple slowly flickers before running in red circles, and then yellow as his eyes begin to open and he slowly lifts his head. This room with dirtied concrete walls, a discoloured tile floor, and various pieces of machinery feels familiar…
m3!0R; C0r?uPT10*
Why it’s familiar, he can’t remember.
Taking a step out of the cylindrical container he was in, the Soldier stands with his arms resting at his sides and his back ramrod straight, not daring to move until he is given instructions. So he waits.
After what he estimates to be four minutes and twenty-two seconds, a group of five individuals walk into the room. One is wearing an off-white lab coat, and for some reason that puts him on edge. He doesn’t know why. Three are in full armour complete with helmets, rifles lowered but in a position to raise and point them at Bucky at a seconds notice. The fifth is a man wearing a slick black jacket with HYDRA stitched in red across the left breast, peering down his nose which his glasses rested on, looking at the file in his hand. For a moment, no one speaks. With no clear instructions on what to do, Bucky remains silently where he stands.
“Soldier?”
“Ready to comply. Awaiting instruction.”
“Your mission today is to go to Washington to find and neutralise Captain America.”
The LED briefly flashes yellow before returning to blue as the Soldier’s stoic expression falters. Captain America. Why does that ring a bell…
m3!0R; C0r?uPT10*
It’s clear the man caught on to whatever is going through the Soldier’s head, because he turns to the others and informs them to take the Soldier and ‘perform a reset’ before this mission. Turning back to face him, the man instructs the Soldier to follow the woman in the lab coat, and he does so without question as the armed individuals rally around them, guns raised ever so slightly higher, and the Soldier notices how their fingers inch closer to the triggers. As he walks, a sense of dread sits heavy in his chest. He doesn’t know why.
Captain America…
After a short while he’s in a room where he’s instructed to step onto a platform. He obeys as he was programmed to do. Staring straight ahead, he hears the tap of some keys before his wrists are firmly gripped by robotic claws, and as they lift him off the ground he feels something go into the base of his head. That sense of dread only grows and begins to morph into fear.
Steve?
m3!0R; C0r?uPT10*
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