We spent most of the night studying the catacombs of the headquarters, memorizing the route to the hangar, and developing more strategies. The only thing we don't have is an escape plan, because if we need one, everything is already lost. There was no chance of getting a few hours of sleep, either—the excitement of the unknown and the fear of being plagued by more dreams was just too overwhelming. The most important weapon I'll need in this war will probably be a large cup of coffee. After what felt like an eternity, in which I did nothing but stare at the ceiling, trying to silence the voices in my head, I slowly get out of bed and reach for the small bundle of clothes that Maria gave me after we returned from the museum. I unfold it, and only now do I realize what it really is. She managed to smuggle our combat suits from headquarters. It's a black suit that covers the entire body and is accented with red. Made from tactical material, it appears simple at first glance but is equipped with modern technology, offering the perfect combination of protection and mobility. The wristbands, which are attached to both wrists, are equipped with the electric "Widow Bites," as Nat likes to call them. Small shocks, designed to incapacitate enemies for a moment. There is a holster on each thigh, meant for firearms, and three sheaths for knives on each side. Two more knives can be attached to the belt. In short, this suit turns the wearer into a weapon, and today, that's exactly what I need to be.
As quietly as possible, I sneak into the adjoining bathroom. I doubt that the others are really sleeping, but it's so incredibly quiet in our base that it feels like every step would echo loudly through the corridors. I close the door behind me and look around the very small room. Like all the other rooms, the walls of this bathroom are made of cold concrete. It's sparsely furnished with a toilet, a plain sink right in front of the toilet, and a functional shower that somehow reminds me of the ones at campsites. I strip off my old clothes and look at myself in the small mirror hanging above the sink, which just barely shows my face and shoulders. As I examine the gunshot wound, I cautiously rotate my shoulder to test how much it will limit me. The stitches stretch a little, and I feel a slight tug, but that's it. Whatever that doctor did, I'm thankful, because I'm going to need my arms today. I pull the shower curtain aside and turn on the water. It's ice cold, but at that moment, I'm grateful to feel the cold running down my body.
When I'm done, I slip into the suit, which clings to me like a second skin, and stash away two pistols, eight knives, and two extra magazines. Sometimes I really wonder why I can't just rely on my powers and always end up carrying most of the weapons with me. But in close combat, I know that I'm in control—at least of myself. I've learned everything I can from S.H.I.E.L.D., and now I'm not so sure if I really had control over my abilities or if they did—only letting me know them well enough so I wouldn't become a threat. If we survive today, there's a lot more I'll need to figure out.
I leave the bathroom, pulling on my boots as I walk, and head toward the bridge where we stood a few hours ago, watching the sunset. As I open the door, the morning air hits me, birds are chirping in the forest around us, and everything would be so incredibly peaceful if I couldn't see the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters towering over the buildings of Washington, D.C., miles away. The others are already standing on the bridge, saying their goodbyes to Nat. That's one part of the plan I can't stand. Using a holographic mask, she's going to disguise herself as a member of the World Security Council, which is supposed to have a personal meeting with Pierce today. Her task is to log into the system and leak Hydra's secret files, which will show the world how blind we've all been. It's also crucial to find out who on the council is aware of the whole situation.
I walk across the bridge toward them, and when Nat sees me, she quickly runs to me and falls into my arms. This could be our last hug, and I never want to let her go. She changed my whole life, helped me, gave me a place in this world, and even though everything we believed in turned out to be wrong, I don't want to think for a second about where I'd be now if she hadn't found me back then. "Be careful, okay? I wouldn't accept losing my sister," I whisper in her ear, my voice breaking slightly. She hugs me even tighter. "The same goes for you. Don't do anything reckless. I love you," she whispers back, and as we pull away, she rests her forehead against mine. "I love you, too," I tell her, and we both nod. Slowly, we separate and look at each other one last time. "We'll make it, and when this is all over, we have a lot to talk about," she says, and she knows exactly that I know what she's talking about. The whole truth. I nod to her once more, and she makes her way to the car that will take her to headquarters.
We watch her until the car disappears among the trees, and I feel a heavy weight clinging to my heart. Steve and Sam give me quick hugs, too. Steve is wearing his uniform, which we borrowed, and it still fits him perfectly. It's in the colors red, white, and blue, matching the American flag. His chest is dominated by a white star, symbolizing Captain America. The uniform is functional, with a utility belt, brown leather boots, and gloves. He also carries his unmistakable, round vibranium shield, which matches the uniform. Sam is wearing his flight suit, in shades of black, gray, and red. The mechanical wings are attached to his back, retractable at will. Yesterday, Nat called it a bird costume, and Sam didn't find that funny at all—but I did.
"Ready?" Steve asks me, determination in his voice. I briefly wonder how best to respond. I mean, how ready can one be for war? "As ready as I think I can be after these few days of preparation," I reply. Sometimes the truth is hard to swallow, but this world doesn't care if I'm ready for what lies ahead. It doesn't matter when I'm ready or not, because what's coming won't stop on its own, and I have to fight with what I've got. We say goodbye to Fury, as he will join Nat later, and then Steve, Sam, Maria, and I head through the forest. Staying on the official paths would be too risky since we're still wanted, and using a car would be too conspicuous, especially since we can't just waltz through the front door.
After a while, we reach a small clearing and look down at the city. Everyone is going about their daily routine, and at any moment, complete chaos could break out. My stomach churns, and a thousand questions race through my mind. What awaits us there? What else has Hydra prepared? Will we survive? How many people will die today? What will happen to Bucky? Will he remember? Will he come back? I'm not sure if I should be happy to know the answers to all these questions soon. With every step, my tension grows, and the others feel the same. No one says a word, everyone lost in their own thoughts about the day ahead, and I try to keep a neutral expression as I attempt to calm my heart. It's practically buzzing in my chest, and it feels like it's trying to break through my ribs.
Now it gets serious.
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And so it begins... the big fight can start, and truths will be revealed. I'd say, let's set the sky on fire.
I'm sitting here with a cup of tea and some dumplings (very tasty) while writing the next chapter.
See you tomorrow <3
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Who the hell am I (english version)
FanficUPDATES EVERY DAY AT 5 PM! She remembers nothing. Where did she come from? What happened? How did she get here? Where is her family? In short: she doesn't know. For two years, Elora has wandered, never staying in one place for long. Always searching...
