After sending 2B and Tifa out, Loren locked himself in the laboratory again. This time, he planned to begin researching nanotechnology.
The system had previously rewarded him with a blueprint for nano armor, but from last night until now, all his energy had been spent on Viper. He hadn't had a moment to study the blueprint—until now, with everyone gone, he finally had some time alone.
Although the system had given him the nano armor blueprint, he knew full well that nanotechnology's applications extended far beyond armor. There were countless ways to use it—such as integrating it with general-purpose combat robot systems or incorporating super-strong materials like vibranium or adamantium. With those enhancements, he could create a new, upgraded version of the general-purpose combat robot. That, in fact, was his next key research direction—which was precisely why he'd asked 2B and Tifa to retrieve vibranium and proto-adamantium.
---
Late at night, in a S.H.I.E.L.D. secret base…
A handsome, well-built man—boasting a notably fine backside—lay quietly on a hospital bed. The ECG monitor beside him showed stable vital signs. Watching him sleep peacefully, no one would have guessed he'd been frozen for over seventy years.
"You're sure he's from World War II? He looks younger than me!" Tony Stark frowned, staring at Steve Rogers with disbelief.
According to Nick Fury, the man on the bed belonged to the same generation as Tony's father. By all normal logic, Steve should've been an old man by now—if he were even alive.
Sure, sci-fi movies often featured cryogenic freezing for interstellar travel—but those were just movies. Such technology didn't exist in reality. At least, not yet.
Yet here Steve was, very much alive, proving that the sci-fi fantasy was entirely possible.
As a technological genius, Tony was instantly fascinated—and couldn't resist reaching out to touch him.
But the moment his fingers neared, the sleeping man's hand shot up and seized his wrist.
In a flash, Steve rolled over and pinned Tony facedown onto the bed like a captured fugitive.
"Where am I? Who are you?" Steve demanded, scanning the unfamiliar room with a sharp look.
"Hey, Steve Rogers—relax," Nick Fury said calmly from the corner. "We mean you no harm. We're not your enemies."
"I'll ask again," Steve said, tightening his grip without letting go. "Where is this place? And who are you?"
Faced with strangers in an unknown setting, he wasn't about to lower his guard.
"Hey, hey—if you want to talk, fine! But do you have to be this close?" Tony groaned, his voice muffled against the mattress. "And could you please let me go? My neck's gone numb from all that pressing. Can't you see I'm an injured soldier?"
Last night, he'd been thrashed like a stray dog by a silver-haired woman. Now, before his wounds had even healed, he was getting pinned down by another man. It was beyond humiliating.
"Shut up," Steve snapped, in no mood for Tony's sarcastic quips.
"This is a S.H.I.E.L.D. secret base," Nick Fury explained evenly. "I'm Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D. The guy you've got flattened like a salted fish is Tony Stark—son of your old friend Howard Stark. By rights, he should be calling you 'Uncle Rogers.'"
Nick Fury explained in a calm tone while motioning for Rogers to relax.
It wasn't clear whether Rogers felt relieved after hearing what he said, but Tony Stark grew visibly anxious.
"Hey Bald egg, don't try to implicate me! I don't have a Popsicle Uncle like that!"
"Howard Stark's son? No, that's impossible. When I knew Howard, he didn't have any children!"
"Yes—because you met him seventy years ago, Captain. Now it's seventy years later, and you've been asleep the whole time!"
"!!!!"
Steve Rogers was stunned by Nick Fury's words.
At the same moment, memories he'd temporarily forgotten came flooding back like a tide.
His recollections finally stopped at the instant he'd flown the plane into the freezing sea—and after that, nothing.
Slowly, he released Tony Stark and stood there, his eyes filled with quiet complexity.
"Captain, are you okay?" Nick Fury asked, frowning with concern as he noticed Rogers had calmed down.
"Yes… I'm fine. It's just… I have a date."
"A date?" Tony Stark's expression softened with regret. "Oh, that's… a shame. It's been seventy years. I'm afraid your date is—"
He caught himself. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to offend you. But… that really is a huge pity."
He gently rubbed his neck, which was still sore from being pinned by Steve Rogers.
Though Tony was usually sharp-tongued, he knew better than to mock someone's wounds—especially not at a time like this.
"It's a pity, yes," Nick Fury said, stepping aside with a meaningful look, "but not impossible to make up for."
"Make up for it? What do you mean?" Hope flickered back to life in Captain America's eyes.
"Your date must be Peggy Carter—and she's still alive. Just… a little older."
Fury said this and gave Natasha a subtle wink.
Natasha immediately handed Steve a note. "This is the address of the nursing home where she lives. She's been waiting for you ever since your accident. We don't know the full story between you two, but after she heard you'd been found, she contacted us and asked us to give you this."
Steve took the note, his expression a mix of disbelief and longing. "Thank you."
"No problem," Fury said. "Now go—hurry to the appointment you've been seventy years late for!
Natasha, see him out. He's been asleep for seven decades; I doubt he can navigate the modern world on his own yet."
"Yes, sir," Natasha nodded and moved to escort Steve.
But just then, an alarm blared throughout the entire SHIELD secret base.
Simultaneously, the lights went out—the power had been cut.
"What's going on?" Steve asked, bewildered. "Do you have power shortages seventy years in the future?"
"…"
"It's not a power shortage," Natasha said, sighing as she switched on a flashlight she'd prepared in advance and activated the backup generator. "Our network's been hacked. Again. This is the fifth time this month. You'll get used to it."
"Fifth time? Today's the fifth, isn't it? Once a day? Who the hell is doing this?" Tony Stark stared, half-convinced he'd misheard.
"Who else could it be but that damn bastard Loren?" Nick Fury snarled, his voice thick with fury. "Every single day! When will this end?!"
Just then, a guard burst into the room, breathless.
"Sir! It's bad—our base has been robbed! The shield you asked me to prepare… it's gone!"
"What?!" Fury's face twisted in rage. "F that @#￥% Loren! I swear to god, I'll—"
"Shield?" Steve frowned, confused by the outburst. "What shield?"
"The vibranium shield you used before!" Natasha clarified, exasperated.
"What?! I@#￥&%"
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