Pietro Maximoff.
Steve slammed on the brakes, the car stopping less than two meters away from the young man, tires leaving two black streaks on the ground.
Steve pushed open the car door and stepped out.
"Who are you?"
Pietro tilted his head and looked at him: "You're Captain America?"
Steve didn't answer.
Pietro smiled: "Someone told me to pass on a message—you're not going anywhere."
Before the words could finish, his body moved.
The speed was incredibly fast; Steve's eyes couldn't even capture his movements. He only felt a gust of wind, and then a heavy impact hit his chest.
He flew backward, crashing into the car behind him. The car door dented as his body slid down, landing on one knee.
Bucky rushed out from the passenger seat, gun already raised.
But Pietro's speed was too great; he was like a bolt of silver lightning weaving around Bucky. Bucky's muzzle couldn't keep up with his speed at all.
"Too slow!" Pietro's laughter echoed in the night sky.
Bucky gritted his teeth and threw away the gun, clenching his fists as he waited for Pietro's next attack.
Sure enough, Pietro charged forward.
Bucky threw a punch, but it hit nothing but air.
Pietro appeared behind him and kicked the back of his knee.
Bucky fell to one knee. Just as he was about to stand up, Pietro appeared in front of him again and punched him in the face.
Steve scrambled up from the ground, raising his shield to stand in front of Bucky.
Then he saw the second person.
A woman wearing a red coat, her long dark brown hair fluttering gently in the night wind.
Her hands were slightly raised, and her fingertips were wreathed in a dark red glow—some kind of energy Steve had never seen before.
Wanda Maximoff.
She looked at Steve, a hint of ruthlessness flashing in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, "you can't leave here tonight."
She raised her hand.
Dark red light surged from her palm, like a venomous snake coiling around Steve's body.
Steve felt his consciousness begin to blur. It wasn't unconsciousness, but rather his sealed memories, those images he didn't want to remember, surging out like a tide.
The smoke of war, the blood of comrades, the silhouette of Bucky falling from the train...
Steve gritted his teeth, trying to resist that power, but the shield slipped from his hand and his knees buckled.
Wanda turned her gaze toward Bucky.
Dark red light flooded into Bucky's brain like a key, opening the door he had tried so hard to lock.
The memories implanted by HYDRA, the instincts to obey orders, those cold, ruthless, mechanical commands—
They were all back.
Bucky's eyes changed, shifting from clarity to emptiness, and then from emptiness to ice-cold.
He stood there like a soulless puppet.
Steve saw it. He struggled desperately to stand up.
"Bucky—!"
Bucky looked up and stared at Steve.
There was no familiar warmth in those eyes, only strangeness, indifference, and... killing intent.
He moved.
A punch slammed into Steve's face, sending him flying backward. The shield hit the ground with a sharp clang.
Watching this scene, Wanda was somewhat satisfied with her results.
Pietro walked to her side and said in a low voice: "That's enough, let's go."
Wanda nodded. She raised her hand, and the dark red light condensed in her palm before suddenly swirling outward.
In the darkness, dozens of shadowy figures emerged from both sides of the street.
They were HYDRA soldiers, fully armed and well-trained, pouncing like a pack of hungry wolves on their prey.
They surrounded Steve.
Steve climbed up from the ground, wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and looked at the soldiers, then at Bucky standing in the distance. His eyes held both pain and anger.
He picked up his shield and clenched his fist.
"Come on," he said.
...
S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters was in a state of chaos.
Natasha crouched behind a pillar, the gun in her hand still smoking.
Three HYDRA soldiers lay fallen before her, but more were surging up from the stairwell.
She was running low on bullets.
Clint crouched beside her, his bow fully drawn, the arrow tip aimed at the stairwell.
His expression was calm, but there was a gash on his forehead. Blood ran down his brow, but he didn't wipe it.
"How many more on your side?" Clint asked.
Natasha quickly swapped magazines. "At least twenty."
Footsteps came from the stairwell, and Natasha and Clint raised their weapons simultaneously.
Then, a bolt of silver lightning rushed out from the stairwell.
Pietro.
His speed was so fast that Natasha's eyes couldn't keep up at all.
She only felt a gust of wind, and then the gun in her hand was gone. It hadn't just been taken; it had been dismantled into parts scattered across the floor.
Clint's bow was also dismantled, the string snapped and arrows scattered everywhere.
The two stood there with nothing in their hands.
Pietro stood before them, holding the last arrow. He glanced at it and casually tossed it to the ground.
"This is all you've got?" he asked.
Natasha looked at him, the corner of her mouth curling slightly. "Guess."
Pietro's brow furrowed, and then he heard a sound from behind—the roar of a helicopter.
He turned to see two Quinjets diving from the night sky. Their mounted machine guns began to fire, sending HYDRA soldiers scrambling for cover.
Natasha and Clint took the opportunity to rush into a nearby corridor.
Pietro wanted to give chase, but Wanda's voice came through the comms: "Don't chase them. Our mission is to pin them down, not kill them. The helicarriers are already preparing to launch."
Pietro stopped in his tracks, looking at the two figures disappearing into the corridor, and gave a light "tsk."
"Let's go," he said.
In the Washington night sky, three massive helicarriers were slowly ascending.
They were like three giant black birds, blotting out the starlight.
Lights on the hulls flickered in the darkness, and gun ports were rotating, aiming at targets on the ground.
Those targets were names on HYDRA's "Threat List."
Politicians, soldiers, scientists, journalists... twenty million people were about to be eliminated within minutes.
Fury stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of the command center, looking at the three carriers, his fists clenched tight.
"Director, Natasha and Clint are being pinned down," Coulson's voice came through the comms, sounding winded.
"There are too many HYDRA personnel; they've practically come out in full force. They even have two enhanced individuals—we can't hold them back."
Fury gritted his teeth: "Dammit! We can't let those three carriers reach their flight altitude!"
He had no choice but to call for backup.
Fury picked up his phone and dialed Tony Stark's number.
The ringtone sounded: once, twice, three times—
No one picked up.
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150 POWER STONE = BONUS CHAPTER
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