Night deepened.
Just then, a communication request was sent directly to Lynn's office.
He answered the phone.
" Lynn."
On the other end of the phone, Howard's voice sounded unusually tired, with an barely suppressed heaviness.
That wasn't the brilliant, charismatic inventor he was in the public eye, but a lone beast trapped in a cage, sensing danger.
"It's late, Howard."
Lynn's voice remained calm.
"There's a problem, Lynn."
Howard lowered his voice, afraid of being overheard.
"There are more and more eyes on me within S.H.I.E.L.D..
"Some people I once thought I could trust, their eyes have changed, revealing... fangs."
"Their surveillance of me has escalated to an unprecedented level."
Howard gave a wry smile.
Ironically, it was precisely under this pressure that my research made groundbreaking progress.
" The Arc Reactor... I've solved the last hurdle in miniaturization. It will change the entire world's energy landscape."
"But I know this will attract even more greedy and unscrupulous hyenas."
On the other end of the phone, Howard could be heard taking a breath.
His tone suddenly became extremely solemn, even carrying a sense of sorrow, as if he were entrusting his son to someone else.
" Lynn, I have a feeling."
"A Stormfront is brewing against me."
"If... I mean, if something were to happen to me..."
"Remember your promise to me."
Howard's voice trembled.
" Tony... he's still just a kid... he's so much like me, arrogant and conceited, he needs someone to guide him..."
Lynn remained silent for a moment.
He could imagine the helplessness and despair on the face of that arrogant man on the other end of the phone.
"Don't worry, Howard."
" The Stark family's glory will never end."
"I'm relieved to hear that."
Howard's voice carried a sense of relief and exhaustion.
The call ended.
Lynn sat in the chair for a long time without moving.
His eyes were deeper than the darkness outside the window.
Is Stormfront coming?
No, Howard.
The Stormfront had already arrived.
You are just that first big tree, about to be torn apart by the Stormfront.
A long-forgotten name and a code name surfaced in Lynn's mind.
Howard's hunch was right.
Hydra's patience has run out.
In order to obtain Howard's technology and to completely eliminate the last unstable "founder" within S.H.I.E.L.D..
They were finally going to release the hunting dog that had been frozen for decades.
The hyena named " Winter Soldier ".
Lynn slowly raised his glass and downed the untouched whiskey in one gulp.
The liquid slid down my throat, but brought no sensation.
Long Island, suburban highway.
The blizzard in December is a white funeral left behind by God on earth.
A black Cadillac struggled through this endless expanse of pure white.
Frost flowers condensed on the car windows, isolating the outside cold from the warmth inside the car.
Howard Stark gripped the steering wheel, his brow furrowed.
On the radio, the latest news about " Deconstructionist " was interrupted by the noise of the wind and snow.
"... a broken soul... in the only way he knew..."
"Nonsense."
Howard muttered a curse under his breath and turned off the radio.
He disliked such mystical arguments and loathed even more the hypocrisy of packaging destruction as art.
His wife Maria Stark, sitting in the passenger seat, gently comforted him, "Don't think about it too much, Howard. We'll be home soon."
Howard forced a smile.
He didn't tell his wife that in the trunk was the greatest breakthrough of his life—five freshly made, perfectly formulated Super Soldier Serum.
He didn't tell her why he chose such a remote road that was blocked by heavy snow.
Just then, a blinding high beam appeared in the rearview mirror.
A heavy motorcycle emerged from the snowstorm like a ghost.
It approached the rear of the car at a completely illogical speed.
A violent impact came from the rear of the car, and the Cadillac went out of control, skidding wildly on the icy road before crashing head-on into a thick oak tree on the side of the road.
The airbags deployed, plunging Howard into a brief period of darkness.
When he regained consciousness, he only felt a warm, sticky sensation on his forehead.
He struggled to turn around and saw Maria unconscious in her seat, blood seeping from her forehead as well.
" Maria..."
His calls were interrupted by the sound of a car window shattering.
A hand, a metallic hand, smashed the driver's side window.
A man wearing goggles and a mask, revealing only a pair of emotionless eyes, appeared outside the car window.
A metal arm gripped Howard's throat, forcibly dragging him out of the deformed driver's seat and slamming him onto the hood.
Howard looked into those eyes, the same eyes he had seen at the victory celebration that belonged to Bucky Barnes.
But it no longer possessed even a trace of its former brilliance.
"You..."
Howard coughed up blood, his eyes filled with shock and sorrow.
Sergeant Barnes...
The Winter Soldier did not respond to him; he was merely a quest taker.
As the force increased, the soft cracking of bones was drowned out by the sound of wind and snow.
Having dealt with Howard, the Winter Soldier headed towards the co-pilot's seat.
He looked at the unconscious Maria without the slightest hesitation.
The metal arm rose, then fell heavily.
The whole world fell completely silent.
Only the wind and snow remain, silently burying the evil.
The Winter Soldier opened the trunk, took the metal box containing the serum, got on his motorcycle, and disappeared silently into the vast snowy night, just as he had come.
Texas.
Inside a run-down roadside tavern, the warm lights and noisy chatter created a world apart from the snow and wind outside.
Corner of the bar.
A man wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and with a long knife at his waist was quietly drinking wine.
His attire stood out starkly against the backdrop of locals dressed in jeans.
The television in the pub was broadcasting news from New York.
"... Following the wailing face on the Brooklyn Bridge, a ghost artist has transformed the cross of a Gothic cathedral into a posture of agony..."
"... Two street heroes attempted to stop them, but were instead overwhelmed by a mysterious force and forced to retreat in a sorry state..."
The image shows the converted church and countless faces filled with panic, anger, and confusion.
The man tilted his head back and drank the last drop of wine in his glass.
The tavern owner, a middle-aged man with a beer belly, wiped the glasses and curiously sized up the silent fellow.
"Hey buddy, New York's in real chaos right now. Tell me, what kind of monster could do something like this?"
The man did not answer.
He took a few coins out of his pocket and gently placed them on the bar.
Then, he stood up, adjusted his straw hat, and turned to walk towards the door.
As he pushed open the door, a deep, hoarse voice drifted back on the wind.
"A noisy death is far less deadly than a peaceful one..."
The man's figure was quickly swallowed up by the wind and snow.
"... But they're all equally annoying."
The tavern owner was taken aback.
He only saw the mysterious swordsman walking step by step into the depths of the snowstorm.
He was heading northeast.
That's the direction where New York is located.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters.
The atmosphere in Peggy Carter's office was oppressive.
"Sit, Barbara."
Barbara Minerva, codenamed " Cheetah," is still dressed in a smart Scholar outfit, her face bearing just the right amount of worry and confusion.
She sat down opposite Peggy.
You saw it all.
Without wasting any words, Peggy directly turned on the screen in front of her.
The screen continuously plays videos of Deconstructionist ' "creations" and various analytical reports about their abilities.
But all the conclusions point to "unknown".
"Even S.H.I.E.L.D..'s top physicists and materials scientists cannot explain this phenomenon."
Peggy's voice betrayed a deep weariness and frustration.
She looked up and stared intently at Barbara.
"You're an expert in this area. Tell me, what did you see?"