Bucky lowered his head, his hands trembling slightly, not daring to look at Steve.
"Steve..." His voice was hoarse. "I... I lost control again."
Steve stopped, then turned to look at him.
Then he reached out and placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder.
"That wasn't you, Bucky," he said. "That was HYDRA's fault."
Bucky looked up at Steve.
"I... I don't deserve..."
Steve cut him off: "Don't deserve what? To live? Or freedom?"
He paused.
"Bucky, you were controlled for seventy years. That's not your fault."
Bucky's tears finally fell.
Steve gently patted his shoulder. "Let's go. Let's head back first, we'll talk about the rest later."
Bucky nodded and followed Steve, slowly walking towards the command center.
At the end of the corridor, Ms. Marvica stood there.
She watched Steve and Bucky approach, nodding slightly: "Are you two alright?"
Steve shook his head: "We're fine. Thank you, Ms. Marvica. If it weren't for you..."
Thor walked over from the other side, mjolnir on his shoulder, with a few scorch marks on his body, but looking very energetic.
"Big Sister, I'm here! That silver-haired young man ran really fast! I chased him for half a day but couldn't catch him!"
Loki followed behind him, elegantly straightening his collar. "You couldn't catch him because you're clumsy."
Thor glared at him. "Say that again?"
Loki smiled and said no more.
Pietro and Wanda stood not far away, guarded by several S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents.
Neither of them resisted, just stood there quietly, like two little birds caged.
Fury walked over, looking at them, his brow slightly furrowed.
Wanda looked up at Director Fury, with a stubborn, almost desperate light in her eyes.
"If you want to take us back to S.H.I.E.L.D., you might as well just kill us."
Director Fury's brow furrowed even deeper.
Pietro stood beside her, silent, but his expression was the same as Wanda's—unyielding, uncompromising.
Director Fury was silent.
Of course, he wanted to bring these two back to S.H.I.E.L.D. Their abilities were too strong; if they could be used by S.H.I.E.L.D., it would be a huge asset.
Ms. Marvica spoke. "Director Fury."
Director Fury turned to look at her.
Ms. Marvica looked at Wanda and Pietro, then said: "Let them come to my place for now."
Director Fury was taken aback: "Your place?"
Ms. Marvica nodded. "With me there, you don't have to worry about them posing any threat."
Director Fury was silent for a few seconds.
He looked at Wanda and Pietro, then at Ms. Marvica, and nodded.
"Alright."
He turned to the Agent beside him and said: "Release them."
The Agent hesitated, but still complied.
Wanda and Pietro stood there, looking at Ms. Marvica, with a complex, almost grateful light in their eyes.
Ms. Marvica walked up to them and looked at them.
"Let's go," she said, "come home with me."
Wanda opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately just nodded.
Pietro stood beside her, also silent.
Thor walked over and patted Pietro's shoulder: "Don't be nervous, Big Sister is very nice."
Pietro stumbled from the pat, looked up at Thor's bright smiling face, and the corners of his mouth involuntarily lifted slightly.
Loki stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest, watching the scene with a faint smile on his lips.
"Let's go," he said, "home."
The night wind blew, carrying the coolness of early autumn and the scent of gunpowder.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters building was still lit, and rescue workers were clearing the battlefield.
Director Fury stood by the window, watching the few streaks of light disappear into the night sky, and sighed softly.
"Director," Coulson's voice came from behind him, "HYDRA's remaining forces are still being pursued. Alexander Pierce has been apprehended and is undergoing interrogation."
Director Fury nodded. "Keep chasing, don't let a single one get away."
"Yes."
Coulson turned and left.
Director Fury stood by the window, looking out at the night, silent for a long time.
...
The night was deep, and moonlight poured like mercury onto the roof of the three-story Villa on the North Shore of Long Island, New York.
This was a building mellowed and elegant by time, with light grey stone exterior walls, dark grey window frames, and a chimney on the roof casting a long shadow in the moonlight.
The Villa was surrounded by a low wrought-iron fence, inside which Climbing Roses were planted, their pink and white blossoms gently swaying in the night wind, emitting a faint, elusive fragrance.
The garden was not large, but it was meticulously maintained.
A flagstone path extended from the iron gate to the Villa's steps, lined with Lavender, Rosemary, and Sage, their purple flower spikes gleaming silver-grey in the moonlight.
In a corner stood an Old Pagoda Tree, its canopy like an umbrella, its branches and leaves swaying, and beneath it, a cast-iron bench covered in Morning Glories.
Closer to the Villa, there was also a small vegetable patch, planted with Tomatoes, Basil, and Chili Peppers—Ms. Marvica had started it this spring, and it was thriving.
Ms. Marvica stood on the flagstone path in the garden, holding a watering can, watering the row of Lavender.
She had changed out of her outdoor clothes, wearing a loose, linen-colored long dress, her golden-red hair loosely tied back, a few strands falling by her ears.
The moonlight spilled over her, coating her in a silvery-white halo, making her look like an ancient oil painting.
Wanda stood on the steps at the Villa entrance, holding a cup of hot tea, watching the woman watering flowers.
Her gaze held scrutiny, vigilance, and also a kind of almost instinctive curiosity that she herself hadn't noticed.
In HYDRA's lab, the scientists always looked at her with cold eyes, as if scrutinizing a weapon.
The training officers always gave her orders in mechanical voices, as if dealing with a machine.
But with Ms. Marvica, Wanda didn't feel any of that.
There was no scrutiny, no calculation, only a calm, unhurried gentleness reserved for ordinary civilians.
Wanda didn't like this feeling.
Because one thing she learned in the HYDRA Base was that anything that seemed too good was a trap.
Pietro came out of the house, holding a cup of Milk, and stood beside Wanda.
He also looked at Ms. Marvica, his brow slightly furrowed, like an alert cat.
"Wanda..." he whispered, "Who do you think they are?"
Wanda didn't answer immediately.
She looked at Ms. Marvica's back, at the linen long dress gently fluttering in the night wind, at the hands watering the Lavender—those hands were fair and slender, not looking like they could fight.
But just a few hours ago, these very hands had destroyed three helicarriers in a matter of seconds.
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150 POWER STONE = BONUS CHAPTER
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