Starting Over

Darkness—boundless, vast, like a black sea. He struggled to open his eyes, but could only feel undercurrents constantly rolling around him. Infinite gravity pulled from directly below, tugging hard at his ankles as though it wanted to drag him into a bottomless abyss.

White light flashed past from time to time, carrying away fleeting images like slides being flipped through at double speed. They were fragments of memory, sealed away for so long that even their owner had believed them completely forgotten, yet for some unknown reason, they had been awakened again after all these years.

Shattered images surged over him like a breached tide. He saw a handsome, tall young man in a crisp military uniform, righteous-faced as he swore to do his small part for his country in the coming war. Then he saw that boy fall from a train speeding through the mountains, while his best friend shouted his name from the roof, only for the cry to be swiftly swallowed by the biting mountain wind.

What came after grew hazy, but one thing was certain: he had survived. In fragmented flashes of memory, he was found and dragged for miles across the snow. He was taken somewhere and subjected to enhancement and alteration. They emptied his mind as though formatting a hard drive. Then they filled him with brand-new beliefs, brand-new content, telling him whom he was meant to serve.

Hydra.

Over the past century, he had been frozen as their most powerful weapon. The low temperatures froze his cells and prevented him from aging, and he was released only when there was a mission to carry out. Like a razor-sharp scalpel, anyone standing in the way of Hydra's development and interests became a target for him to remove. Over a century, he had cleared countless obstacles for Hydra and eliminated countless key targets. He had never failed.

Until today.

A stabbing pain traveled along his nerve fibers into the neural center of his brain, violently stimulating it like an electric current. Memories once lost abruptly awakened under the intense stimulation, and a vast torrent of information flowed back into his mind.

The human brain was like a hard drive. The data stored within could be deleted or formatted, but it was not so easily wiped clean completely. Hydra had not thoroughly erased his personality and memories. They had merely sealed them deep within his subconscious. And now, under the guidance of some external force, that part of his memory was resurfacing.

He remembered.

His name was Bucky Barnes.

He was a member of the Howling Commandos, Captain America's closest friend.

The flashback ended. Bucky opened his eyes, and his body sprang upright on instinct.

He immediately began warily surveying his surroundings. White floor tiles, clean walls, and all kinds of high-precision instruments and equipment surrounded him, operating automatically without anyone at the controls. The other half of the room, not far away, was covered in a fluffy white carpet. Ominous bookshelves stood there, surrounded by a pile of mysterious ancient devices, looking somewhat like the private collection of an antique enthusiast.

Half a minute later, a young man entered the room. He looked to be about twenty, casually wearing a T-shirt, his hair neatly groomed, his hands naturally tucked into his pockets, his expression calm and composed.

"Did you sleep well, Sergeant Barnes?" Michael asked.

Bucky frowned. "You know my name?"

"Of course I do. In fact, you only remembered your name just now because of my help."

Bucky suddenly recalled something. "My brainwashing."

"It's been removed." Michael walked over to the coffee machine on the table to the left, somehow produced a mug, and poured himself a cup of coffee. "To be honest, it wasn't as difficult as I expected. After all these years, Hydra's brainwashing methods are still so crude and simplistic. They bury your memories and thoughts, then violently force new content into you, periodically repeating the process to make sure the effect doesn't weaken over time."

He paused, making no effort to hide his contempt. "There's no technical sophistication to it, and it's easy to break."

He waved the mug at the super-assassin in the room. "Want some coffee?"

Bucky shook his head.

"Why did you do this?" he asked doubtfully. "Do you want me to work for you?"

"I can't say that thought never crossed my mind. But if that were truly my motive, there'd have been no need for me to go to all the trouble of removing your brainwashing and awakening your personality. You were already under my Hypnotic Spell at the time. I had no fewer than a hundred ways to implant new thoughts into you and turn you into my puppet." Michael spoke evenly. "But I didn't, because this is what you deserve, Sergeant Barnes."

Holding his mug in one hand, he dragged over a chair and sat down in front of Bucky.

"I think you may still remember how many people you killed for Hydra over the past century," he said. "Having an entirely different personality forced into you, serving your former enemies without any choice, attacking the country you once swore to serve... I can't pretend to understand how you feel, because honestly, I've never had a similar experience."

Sergeant Barnes pressed his lips together and said nothing.

"I know you hate them," Michael continued. "And you probably already know that Hydra and I have a bit of history. We're at war now, and I'm cutting off their heads one by one."

He leaned forward slightly.

"Alexander Pierce is dead, but Hydra has other leaders," he said. "I'll remove every last one of them and uproot Hydra completely. You've already seen what I can do. You know what I'm capable of. Before that happens, though, I'm offering you an opportunity—a job, and a chance to join me and take revenge on them. So the question now is, are you in?"

Bucky Barnes met his gaze for a moment.

"What if I say no?" he asked.

Michael leaned back in his chair.

"Then all I can do is express my regret." He shrugged. "But I'll let you go and continue this operation on my own. Of course, I'll have to erase this portion of your memory and ensure that you remember nothing of this conversation. But aside from that, you'll be completely free. You can take on an entirely new identity and begin a completely different life. No more fighting and killing, no more being controlled by others—if that's what you want."

Sergeant Barnes narrowed his eyes and studied him carefully, as though trying to judge from the young man's eyes how much of what he said was true.

As the strongest assassin Hydra had spared no effort to cultivate, the Winter Soldier had naturally received specialized training in detecting lies. He could accurately catch every minute change in a person's facial expressions and combine their tone, gaze, and subtle body language to determine whether they were lying.

And every detail he caught conveyed the same message—everything this young man said was one hundred percent true.

"You should know that I'm not Hydra. I'm not in the habit of forcing people to do things," Michael said. "So, Sergeant Barnes, what do you think?"

Bucky closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, the confusion in them was gone, replaced by a firm sense of direction.

He asked, "When do we start?"