"Is this a recording?" Natasha asked suspiciously.
Hearing the computer speak her full name, she could not help feeling surprised. Very few people should have known about her files from the last century.
"I am no recording, miss." The computer's voice carried a heavy Russian accent as it retorted in an almost human manner. "Perhaps I am no longer the person Captain Rogers put in prison in 1945, but I am still myself."
As those convoluted words played, a photograph appeared on the nearby screen. Steve's face showed shock. He knew this man—an old enemy from the last century.
"Arnim Zola... you should not still be alive," Captain America said.
Hydra's chief scientist had been dead for many years, yet he had now appeared in another form within the vast underground server room. It sent chills down their spines.
"Look around you. I am more alive than ever. In 1972, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Science could no longer save my body, but my mind was worth saving and preserving. It is stored in a database two hundred thousand feet long—and you are now deep inside my brain."
The shrill voice carried a trace of pride. Green characters formed from data streams shifted into a blurry expression. Doctor Zola, who had changed his way of life, was presumably quite pleased with himself at that moment.
Suddenly, the waterfall-like stream of scrolling data flickered. Doctor Zola's voice seemed to snag like a jammed tape, stretching into meaningless crackling static, like a radio with poor reception.
Two minutes earlier—
Within the boundless world of the internet, strings of data and information intersected and merged, forming a virtual world without visible limits, connected to the entire planet. Through electronic signals invisible to the naked eye, people communicated across vast distances.
And