Just one chapter today.
My father was hospitalized with a stroke, and I typed this chapter on my phone next to his hospital bed.
Please forgive me if I missed some minor issues.
I'll have a follow-up check-up when I rest tonight.
Far from the city's neon lights, in the desolate wilderness, the evening wind is bleak, the grass and trees are barren, and the withered branches of the trees on both sides of the road intertwine, casting menacing shadows in the night. The entire area is eerily quiet, with hardly any sounds of insects or birds.
An inconspicuous black civilian car was parked smoothly on the side of the road, its body hidden in the shadows of the trees, completely blocking out the scattered streetlights in the distance.
The four of them got off the bus one by one. Underfoot was a patch of withered, tangled weeds, and the evening breeze carried a desolate and dilapidated atmosphere. At the end of their line of sight, a building completely enclosed by an old, rusty iron fence stood quietly. The walls were mottled and old, and large areas of the exterior paint had peeled off. It looked like an old military camp that had been abandoned for many years. It was inconspicuous and had no trace of human life.
Natasha raised her hand and held up the portable high-frequency signal detector in her hand. The instrument's screen flickered faintly, and the pointer steadily locked onto the front.
Her gaze sharpened slightly, and she lowered her voice, speaking with certainty, "The signal source is here."
The wind blew across the open fields, rustling the fallen leaves on the ground.
Steve Rogers stood at the back of the team, his eyes falling on the familiar yet unfamiliar camp buildings. Extremely complicated emotions were surging in his eyes, and his deep voice slowly sounded with a hint of vicissitudes and emotions that had been separated for decades.
I'm from here too.
As soon as he finished speaking, the three people beside him were slightly taken aback.
Hill turned to look at the composed Steve, her gaze sweeping over the dilapidated building before her, and asked softly, "Has this place changed much in all these years?"
Steve did not answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on the fenced area, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions. Memories of his youthful training, the bugle calls and drills of the military camp, overlapped with the desolate ruins before him. Years had passed, the world had changed, and so much had been altered, yet a hidden darkness had never truly dissipated.
He simply shook his head slightly, remaining silent and not uttering a single word.
The rusty iron fence stood tall before them, its thick iron pipes sturdy and strong, wrapped with old barbed wire. It appeared to be tightly sealed, but in reality, it had long been in disrepair. Coulson stepped forward to inspect the perimeter of the fence, confirming that there were no external surveillance cameras, no trigger traps, and no alarm devices, before nodding to the others.
Without needing sophisticated unlocking techniques, the four chose the simplest and most direct method: forcibly breaking through.
Steve stepped forward, gripped the rusty railing with one hand, and unleashed the terrifying power of a super soldier. Several ear-piercing metal-breaking sounds rang out as the thick iron pipe was snapped in two, tearing a huge gap in the fence that was wide enough for passage.
Broken iron bars lay askew on the ground, dust falling in clumps, further emphasizing the sense of decay.
The group bent down and squeezed through the gap, stepping into the heart of this old military camp that had been sealed off for decades.
The camp was empty and desolate, the ground covered with a thick layer of dust, and wild grass grew rampantly, covering the once neat training grounds. The walls of the main building were mottled, the doors and windows were rotten, and all the glass was shattered. The evening wind whistled through the empty window openings, like a whisper that no one was telling, desolate and eerie.
Steve walked slowly at the front, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding barracks, parade ground, and training platform. Each scene evoked deep-seated memories of the past. This place held the ordinary yet resilient spirit he had before becoming Captain America, and his initial military beliefs. But now it was devastated, filled only with death and desolation.
His eyes were filled with a sigh as he stood silently watching.
The other three, each fulfilling their duties, did not indulge in sentimentality but remained highly vigilant throughout, using professional testing equipment to conduct a comprehensive scan and inspection of the entire campsite.
Coulson, holding the thermal imaging detector, walked through every corner of the main building, but the screen remained completely blank, without the slightest fluctuation of heat. He frowned and spoke, his tone grave. "There are no living thermal imaging responses in the entire camp, no external signals, not even basic radio waves or electromagnetic fluctuations have completely disappeared; it's abnormally clean."
Hill, holding a spectrum analyzer, rapidly swiped the screen to check the band data, then casually remarked, "The person who wrote this hidden program is extremely professional; they must have used a built-in router to create a closed intranet."
Natasha was about to speak up and analyze the hidden oddities when she inadvertently caught a glimpse of Steve's suddenly serious expression beside her.
The captain, who had just been looking at the camp with a calm and thoughtful expression, now had a furrowed brow and stared intently at a solitary low building on the side of the camp. His aura instantly turned somber, revealing obvious vigilance and unease.
Natasha immediately fell silent and asked, "What's wrong?"
Steve's gaze was fixed on the unassuming detached building. His voice was deep and serious, carrying the meticulousness and certainty ingrained in a soldier. "Something's not right. According to military regulations, storing weapons and ammunition or establishing classified warehouses within 500 yards of barracks is strictly prohibited."
"That detached building is located entirely within the restricted barracks area; according to regulations, it shouldn't exist at all."
A single sentence instantly revealed the strangeness of the situation.
Everyone instantly snapped out of their relaxed state and turned their gazes to the small building that stood out so abruptly.
The small building was low and square, with walls painted in a similar color to the main barracks building. It was deliberately aged and disguised to blend perfectly into the camp. Outsiders unfamiliar with military regulations would not notice anything unusual and would simply pass by it as an ordinary storage shed. However, to Steve, who was well-versed in military rules, this illegally constructed building was the biggest flaw in itself.
"Let's go take a look."
The four of them turned and walked quickly toward the building.
The iron gate of the small building was heavily rusted, and an old-fashioned mechanical lock was firmly fastened to the door, the lock cylinder long since rusted shut. Without saying a word, Steve stepped forward, grabbed the lock with one hand, and with a sudden burst of strength, roughly yanked it off.
Clang!
A piercing metallic crack shattered the silence of the wilderness as the sturdy old-fashioned lock was snapped in two, and the iron gate swung open, kicking up clouds of dust.
The room was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, and a thick stench of dust and decay filled the air. The group raised their hands and turned on their tactical flashlights; four beams of white light pierced the darkness and illuminated the empty space inside.
The interior was minimally furnished, empty and bare, with no clutter, no equipment, no tables or chairs, only four bare walls, so vast that it made one feel uneasy.
The group slowly stepped into the house, their flashlight beams sweeping across the walls, eventually focusing on the picture frames on the front wall.
In the center of the wall hangs several yellowed, old black-and-white photographs, their edges slightly curled and covered with the marks of time. One of the photos shows a young woman with gentle eyes and a graceful demeanor.
Steve stood alone in front of the photograph, motionless.
The beam of the flashlight fell on his profile, reflecting the complex and indescribable emotions in his eyes—a mixture of nostalgia, regret, bitterness, and loneliness that lingered for a long time. He just stared at the photograph quietly, his aura somber and melancholic, as if he had instantly traveled back more than seventy years to that innocent and naive time.
The room fell silent instantly. The three of them tacitly refrained from making a sound, allowing their captain to immerse himself in his long-forgotten memories.
A few seconds later, Steve concealed all the turmoil in his eyes, his expression returned to calm, and he turned away, unwilling to say another word about the past of the photos.
"Investigate separately," he said in a low voice, bringing the topic back to the main point.
The four immediately split up, their four flashlight beams crisscrossing through the empty room as they carefully examined every inch of the walls, floor, and corner, searching for hidden mechanisms and unusual traces.
A short while later, Steve stopped in front of a row of old iron shelves against the wall.
The shelves were covered in a thick layer of dust. They looked like ordinary storage shelves, filled with some old and discarded military camp items, and had nothing special about them.
He raised his hand and gently stroked the shelf. It felt smooth and solid, with no hollow echoes behind it. The entire shelf was unusually heavy, clearly not an ordinary piece of furniture.
He reached out and gripped the edge of the shelf, once again using his super soldier physique to steadily pull forward.
Steve frowned slightly, muttering to himself with certainty, "Why would you hide an elevator in such a secluded place?"
As the shelves were completely moved aside, a meticulously designed, silver-gray hidden elevator suddenly appeared before everyone's eyes. The elevator doors were tightly closed, the elevator was in deep standby mode, and the screen was completely black, perfectly concealed within the wall's partition. It would be impossible for anyone to discover it without a proactive search.
Hidden in the shadows, the ladder was sealed and silent, with layers of disguise, leaving no room for error.
Coulson and Natasha hurried forward, their gazes fixed intently on the hidden elevator, their premonitions growing increasingly perplexing.
Hill immediately stepped forward, took out his portable decryption terminal and scanning device, placed them against the elevator control panel, and rapidly operated his fingers to crack the underlying encrypted standby password. The screen code scrolled rapidly, and in just a few dozen seconds, the standby lock was released, and the elevator system was successfully awakened.
"You may enter," Hill announced.
Without hesitation, the four stepped into the narrow elevator car one by one.
The interior design of the elevator car is so minimalist it's almost bizarre. There are no floor buttons, no switches, no emergency buttons, and all four sides are smooth metal walls, completely empty, unlike a conventional elevator.
Just as the four of them stepped into the elevator car and stood still, the heavy elevator doors suddenly slammed shut without warning, blocking out all outside light.
The next second, the elevator car suddenly sank, extremely fast yet remarkably stable, plummeting rapidly into the depths of the earth.
There were no announcements or floor readings throughout the entire process; only the low whistling of the wind and the faint hum of machinery filled the air. The group felt as if they had fallen into an endless, dark abyss.
The descent was brief; just a few dozen seconds later, the elevator landed smoothly and came to a precise stop on the ground floor.
The elevator doors slowly slid open to both sides, and the blinding cold white light instantly flooded into the car, illuminating everyone's eyes. A scene far beyond anyone's imagination suddenly came into view.
Outside the door lies a vast and deep underground hall, a truly awe-inspiring space. At its very center stands a massive control console. To the sides and back of the hall are rows upon rows of server racks stretching to the horizon, hundreds of thousands of data units arranged in an orderly fashion, their indicator lights flashing, densely packed like an endless electronic forest.
A cold wind blew slowly from the depths of the hall. The entire underground space was precise, vast, and cold, forming an extreme contrast with the dilapidated and abandoned military camp above ground.
No one could imagine that beneath this seemingly abandoned old military camp lies a top-secret underground data center of such terrifying scale.
Hill stepped out of the elevator first, strode to the central control panel, inserted the USB drive, and rapidly tapped the keyboard to access the system backend, attempting to read data and control device permissions.
But the moment she connected to the system, the miniature camera on the control panel lit up with a red dot, accurately locking onto the four people.
The entire hall's public address system suddenly activated automatically, its cold, mechanical voice echoing through the empty underground hall, accurately announcing the identities of the four people without the slightest error.
" Steve Rogers, Captain America."
" Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow."
Maria Hill, Senior Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D..
Phil Coulson, senior agent of S.H.I.E.L.D..
The voice was clear, accurate, and without any deviation, indicating that the system had already pre-loaded all of the four individuals' confidential files.
Coulson's expression hardened, and he tentatively asked, "Preset recording program?"
Before the words were finished, the cold, mechanical voice suddenly changed, shedding its programmed stiffness and gaining a more aged, eerie, and insightful human tone, which slowly echoed in the hall.
"No."
"I'm not recording."
"My form has changed; I am no longer the same as I was when you arrested me in 1945, Rogers."
You may call me... Anim Zola.
Natasha, Hill, and Coulson all looked surprised and puzzled, turning to look at Steve beside them with doubt in their eyes.
Steve's expression turned completely somber, a hint of shock and gravity flashing in his eyes. He explained to everyone in a deep voice, "Arnin Zola, the chief scientist under Red Skull, a core researcher for Hydra. Logically speaking, he should not be alive today."
A slight sneer came from the lobby's loudspeaker, tinged with an all-knowing indifference and obsession, as it continued to correct:
" Steve, I need to correct two things about you."
First, I am Switzerland.
"Secondly, don't judge life and death by your eyes alone. Look around you; I'm here, alive and well."
Zola's voice was calm yet tinged with extreme madness as he slowly revealed the ultimate secret to his decades-long survival. "In 1972, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. My mortal body had long since reached its end, and modern medicine could not save my life."
"But I know that my thoughts, my research, and my will are far more valuable than this decaying body."
"So I spent years of my life building this massive database of 200,000 units. This entire underground data center is my brain."
Coulson's heart sank slightly, and he immediately pressed for the core question, "You're clearly a remnant of Hydra, so why were you hiding beneath S.H.I.E.L.D..'s territory? How were you able to remain undetected for decades?"
Before the broadcast could respond, Natasha instantly grasped the truth and spoke first, her tone icy and chilling. "It's Operation Paperclip."
"After World War II, in order to quickly absorb top scientific research talent, S.H.I.E.L.D.. launched Operation Paperclip, recruiting a large number of scientists from the defeated Axis powers who possessed extremely high strategic value, regardless of their status or past, solely to preserve their technology."
" Zola must be the one who was personally recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D.. back then."
Zola's voice came through the radio again, tinged with a mocking smugness. "They thought that by recruiting me, they could use my research capabilities to strengthen S.H.I.E.L.D.. and protect the world."
"But they'll never know that from the moment I agreed to recruit them, I had my own goals."
Steve's eyes sharpened as he retorted in a deep voice, " Hydra and Red Skull were completely wiped out at the end of World War II and no longer exist."
Zola chuckled softly, a laugh both cold and maniacal, each word piercing to the heart. " Steve, you're still too naive."
" Hydra's creed has never been to survive by relying on any one person or any one army."
"Cut off one head, and two new heads will grow. We will never truly perish."
Steve's gaze was firm, his tone steady. "Words are meaningless; prove it to me."
The moment Zola finished speaking, the central giant control panel screen suddenly lit up, and a dense array of video data instantly filled the entire display screen. Countless old videos, confidential files, and news clips scrolled and switched rapidly, at an extremely fast speed, yet each frame was clear.
From sporadic local conflicts after World War II to the terrorist attacks, regime instability, and war crises that have occurred around the world over the decades, every seemingly unrelated natural or man-made disaster is linked to traces of Hydra's covert operations.
Zola's ethereal yet obsessive electronic voice echoed in the empty hall, carrying the indifference and smugness of a decades-long plan, slowly revealing Hydra's ultimate conspiracy that had been lurking for half a lifetime.
"This is my answer to you, Steve."
"Since its inception, Hydra has adhered to a core tenet: humans are inherently ignorant; they have no capacity to control their own destiny or freedom."
"Initially, we attempted to forcibly seize human freedom and establish world order through power, but the result was predictable: fierce resistance swept the globe, countless people fought to the death, making our progress extremely difficult."
The screen shifted and froze on the initial files of S.H.I.E.L.D.., the handwriting cold and glaring.
"War has taught us the most crucial lesson: freedom forcibly seized only breeds resistance; only by making humanity willingly relinquish freedom can we truly control everything and establish an Eternity, absolute order."
"So, we became parasites, completely infesting the body of S.H.I.E.L.D.."
"For decades, we have remained behind the scenes, secretly instigating conflicts, provoking disputes, and creating crises. Small-nation wars, terrorist attacks, technological blockades, and conflicting public opinion—all these upheavals are our doing."
"We keep humanity living in fear and anxiety for a long time, letting them see the cost of disorder firsthand, and making them crave absolute security and stability day and night."
"Over time, they will voluntarily give up their freedom in exchange for stability."
The videos on the control panel gradually came to an end, finally settling on the core terminal interface of the " Project Insight," where densely packed global data on individuals, threat assessment formulas, and satellite coordinates jumped around wildly.
Zola's voice grew colder, carrying the indifference of impending doom. " Project Insight is nearing completion."
"The moment the purification process is complete, a completely new world order will be established. There will be no strife, no resistance, no chaos; the world will be entirely under our control."
"The world you fought so hard to protect will be reshaped by us. Your victories, your sacrifices, your legends will all become meaningless."
"Unfortunately, you won't live to see the moment the new world begins."
The words had barely left his lips when Hill, who had been silently monitoring the equipment, suddenly narrowed his eyes. His fingers flew across the terminal screen, his face turning deathly pale, and he warned urgently, "Not good! A hypersonic ballistic missile has been detected locking onto its coordinates. A ground-attack missile is hurtling towards us at high speed, its target precisely locked onto the underground data center!"
The lights in the underground hall suddenly flickered wildly, red alarm lights instantly turned on, and the piercing air raid siren tore through the entire space, buzzing incessantly.
Zola's voice rang out again, laced with a languid confidence and cruelty. "I've been stalling for time from the moment you stepped into the camp."
"When the missile lands, all traces will be completely erased. There will be no evidence, no witnesses, no one will know about Hydra's lurking presence, no one will know about the decay within S.H.I.E.L.D.."
"Accept your fate, don't resist. A peaceful end is the best outcome for you."
The piercing alarm, the hum of equipment, and Zola's obsessive whispers intertwined, and Extremis instantly enveloped the four of them.
Without the slightest hesitation, all doubt vanished from Steve's eyes in an instant, and the ultimate reaction speed of a super soldier erupted in the Extremis. He quickly scanned the entire underground space, his gaze instantly locking onto the hidden drainage channel partition in the corner.
That was the only escape route in the entire sealed underground fortress.
"Quick! Get it into the drainage channel!"
Steve gave a low shout, his figure darting out instantly, rushing to the corner of the wall, raising his hand to grip the heavy metal partition tightly, unleashing brute force in an instant.
Bang!
The heavy alloy partition was forcibly torn off, revealing a narrow and deep drainage tunnel, just wide enough for four people to curl up and hide in.
The situation was urgent, and their lives hung in the balance. Without the slightest hesitation, Natasha, Hill, and Coulson quickly ducked into the narrow, dark passage.
The moment the last person entered the cave, Steve also jumped in, standing sideways in front of the entrance, gripping his Vibranium Shield tightly with both hands, lowering his stance, and firmly protecting the opening in the passage with his shield.
The Vibranium Shield gleamed with a cold metallic luster, firmly blocking all exposed space for the three people behind it, single-handedly supporting their last chance for survival.
The equipment in the underground hall was still operating at full speed, and Zola's voice still echoed, carrying a final sneer, "It's too late, Steve. It's all over."
The next second, a deafening explosion rang out!
A violent impact exploded overhead, causing the entire underground data center to collapse and shatter instantly. Countless server racks, main control equipment, and reinforced concrete shattered and collapsed in an instant. The violent shockwave swept across the entire underground space, with debris and metal fragments raging wildly.
A deafening roar drowned out all other sounds, and endless darkness instantly swallowed the entire underground camp.