Steve Rogers was a renowned hero of WWII, the leader of the Howling Commandos, and the destroyer of the evil organization Hydra.
He was hailed as the symbol that best represented the spirit and courage of Americans. His deeds had even been adapted into comics, films, and various other works, used as a means of patriotic propaganda.
It could even be said that, to some extent, the name Captain America had become a deified symbol.
As an "old popsicle" who had been frozen beneath the Arctic ice for seventy years before only recently returning to human society, Steve Rogers had not been mentally prepared for any of this, much less able to adapt to the rapid technological advances of the present day.
Because in his mind, time had forever stopped at the moment his plane crashed.
If he closed his eyes, he could still clearly hear his final phone call with Peggy Carter.
Strangeness!
Alienation!
Loneliness!
Solitude!
That was the current state of Captain America Steve Rogers.
Although he had visited his own history museum, watched countless children holding his action figures, and listened to guides recounting those artistically embellished and glorified battle stories, none of it felt real to him.
It was as though the protagonist of those stories was not him, but someone else.
Sometimes, he even felt that perhaps it would have been better if he had simply died.
That way, all the troubles and worries would have vanished.
In this restless modern society, Steve Rogers could not find his own place or value. His heart was filled with confusion over what he should do next.
He realized that aside from fighting, he could do nothing at all.
All he could do was live day to day on the pension provided by the government and military, using