The screens shifted again.
Photographs flashed past—files on politicians, generals, intelligence officers… even Nick Fury's personnel record.
"For seventy years," Zola droned, "HYDRA has fueled wars across the globe, profiting from chaos. When individuals resisted our vision, we altered the course of history."
The image changed.
A figure with a metal arm aimed a sniper rifle from a distant rooftop. Political leaders fell one by one.
"That's impossible," Natasha said sharply. "S.H.I.E.L.D. would have stopped this."
The footage transitioned again—Howard Stark. Nick Fury. More wars.
"HYDRA cultivated a world in disarray," Zola continued. "As fear spread, humanity willingly surrendered freedom in exchange for security."
Satellites launched into orbit. Surveillance cameras filled city streets.
"Absolute freedom breeds instability. Fear makes control acceptable."
Then came the helicarriers—massive aerial warships rising into the sky, heavy cannons locking onto countless targets.
"We have already won, Captain. The future belongs to HYDRA."
Steve smashed his fist into the monitor.
The screen shattered.
All those sacrifices. All that loss. And HYDRA had survived inside the very organization built to stop it.
Another screen flickered on. Zola's digital face reappeared.
"Your sacrifice was unnecessary, Captain."
"What's in the drive?!" Steve demanded.
"I designed an algorithm," Zola said. "Project Insight."
There was unmistakable pride in his mechanical tone.
"What does it do?" Natasha pressed.
"Excellent question, Agent Romanoff," Zola replied. "Unfortunately, you will not live to hear the answer."
Heavy blast doors slammed shut. Steel sealed the exits. Underground—no windows.
Steve hurled his shield at the door.
No effect.
"Sir," JARVIS announced calmly, "a missile is inbound. Impact in thirty seconds."
Tony's expression hardened. "Source?"
"Launch origin: S.H.I.E.L.D."
"My apologies," Zola said. "I have been delaying you since your arrival."
"Need help?" Karl asked casually.
The bunker posed no real threat to him—or to Tony.
"You've got something?" Steve asked.
Karl grinned. "It's just a missile."
And vanished.
Zola's pixelated face flickered. "Impossible. The bunker is fully reinforced. No one can exit."
No one answered him.
---
High above, flames flared into existence.
Karl materialized midair, facing the incoming missile. He raised a hand and launched a blazing fireball.
BOOM.
The two collided three thousand meters overhead, exploding harmlessly in the sky.
Karl reappeared in the bunker.
"Handled. Didn't even leave debris."
Natasha smirked. "Having overpowered teammates is convenient."
"Sir," JARVIS added, "three aircraft inbound. One minute to arrival."
"They noticed," Tony muttered.
"We move," Steve ordered.
"And Zola?" Natasha asked.
Tony lifted into the air. Six drone cannons deployed and locked onto the main server banks.
"What do you think?"
The cannons fired.
Blinding beams tore through the ceiling as Tony blasted an exit path. Karl and Tony carried Steve and Natasha upward as four additional beams lanced downward—
Incinerating Zola's server core.
The bunker erupted in flames.
---
Three Quinjet aircraft hovered overhead, surrounding them.
Ground forces advanced.
Brock Rumlow stepped forward.
"Captain Rogers. Agent Romanoff. Surrender immediately."
Rifles snapped into position.
Tony hovered calmly. "Bullets don't work on me, just so we're clear."
Steve's gaze hardened. "Rumlow. You too?"
"No personal grudge, Captain," Rumlow replied coldly. "I follow orders."
HYDRA loyalty ran deep—absolute and unquestioning.
"Then I'm sorry," Steve said quietly.
Storm clouds rolled in above.
Purple lightning coiled within them.
"Open fire!" Rumlow shouted.
Gunfire erupted from every direction—ground troops and Quinjets alike.
For a full minute, the barrage continued. Smoke and dust swallowed the four figures at the center.
When the firing finally ceased, nothing could be seen inside the thick cloud of debris.
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