"Teacher, my parents died when I was very young. Outside the estate, there's no longer any such person as Sergeant Barnes."
James watched Bucky's expression grow more complicated and silently listened as he continued.
"After Steve met you many years ago, he no longer needed me to look after him like a brother. These days, heh, he still likes doing foolish things, but with you around, I don't have to worry."
"I'm grateful you let me see that this might be possible, so...I want to try walking that path."
Bucky held the webbing between the thumb and forefinger of his Adamantium hand, rubbing its ridges. Then he looked up, grinned playfully, and gave James a hopeful wink.
Greenland, an uninhabited permafrost region.
A craft shaped like a military transport plane, with a squat, flattened body coated in dark teal, an extra pair of tail wings, and four propulsion units spewing icy-blue flames, slowly descended vertically onto the ice.
The blazing energy streams rapidly melted the solid ice cap, exposing the permafrost beneath that had not seen daylight for thousands of years. The four-winged transport came to a stop, and its rear hatch lowered.
It was the polar day once again. A group of wolf-pack warriors in black combat suits, their presence grim and murderous, cast long shadows across the ground.
Remus Pitt led the way down, with the first generation of eight "Winter Wolves" beside him. They were all over fifty, but years of training and cultivation had kept them in the best shape they could manage. Their Killing Technique had reached at least the peak of the second stage.
The Super Soldier Serum injections had helped them break through their physical limits and reach their prime.
Thirteen members of the new generation of the Wolf Pack followed behind. They