𝐈𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐭.
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The infamous Winter Soldier and Morana are assigned on a mission once more, but things don't go as planned for them this time. To survive, they confront emoti...
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TW: Torture, use of knives, use of guns, and fighting. There is Russian used in this episode and it will be translated in the brackets beside it, however, I don't speak Russian, so it may not be correct.
[Play With Fire - Sam Tinnesz] 1:40 ─〇───── 2:13 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻
Morana's POV
Within minutes of being taken out of the ice, I'm shoved into the chair and strapped in. They inject me, like usual, and send waves of electricity through my bones. It streams through my body, straight to my brain, stripping me of my memories.
However, instead of being with Winter, I'm all alone. The room swarms with guards with their handguns at the ready, doctors in oversized white coats, and a man in the corner sporting a grey suit. He watches from afar with a hardened expression and a smirk playing on his face. After they stop the machine, the metal doors open, with a man in black tackle wear, long brown hair covering his deep blue eyes, and a mask hiding his smile and nose.
I know him.
I remember him.
Winter.
Guards force him into the chair opposite me, making him look straight at me. He looks scarily calm at first glance, but the longer I look at his features, I can see fear. Terror swims in his eyes, mirroring my own.
The man in a grey suit stalks over to us, leans down and smiles creepily at us. His eyes flicker between us before looking at the guards, silently telling them to stand ready. Ready to detain us. They follow his orders, gripping their guns tighter to their chests.
"Доброе утро, солдаты." He talks to us. (Good morning, Soldiers.)
"Готов подчиниться." Winter and I say. (Ready to comply.)
"У меня есть задание для вас двоих." He smirks again. (I have a mission for you two.)
He stands up to his usual height, looking down at us again. He paces back and forth in front of us, figuring out his next words.
"Вы должны помешать уничтожению носителей ада." (You must stop the helcarriers from being eliminated.)
He walks over to the door, whispers something into a guard's ear, and leaves the room. Doctors are instructed to take us out of our chairs and force us to gear up, which they do. When we are in a room alone with guns, knives, and medic kits, we find a moment to speak privately.
"How much do you remember?" He asks.
"I remember you," I whisper.
"I remember you, too." He whispers back. "If you don't remember, then I'll remind you."
"Our promise?"
He smiles at me, happy that the memory slipped through the cracks. I reciprocate, walking closer to him and whispering in his ear.
