The Soldat, The Captain and The Asset

Epilogue

THE ROOM IS BRIGHTLY LIT, the walls grey and heavily fortified, hidden deep in the bunker of the Berlin UN building. A man, Everett Ross, enters the chamber, wearing a neat suit and brushed back hair. He looks over at the prison pod in the room, Zola sitting in the metal seat, his ankles cuffed to the chair legs but his hands are free from the constraints. He's in a similar pod that Bucky and Yawa had been placed in but because he wasn't enhanced like they were, he was left fairly free inside the pod. He glances over at Everett with dark eyes and a knowing smile.

"Meals at eight and five." Everett informs him, coming up to stand in front of the pod, his hands in front of him. "Toilet privileges twice a day. Raise your voice, zap. Touch the glass, zap. You step out of line, you deal with me." He smiles at him. "Please, step out of line. Hmm?" He watches Zemo's expression but is surprised to find that he doesn't react to the slight threat given by the man. "So how does it feel? To spend all that time, all that effort... and to see it fail so spectacularly?" He chuckles.

Zemo looks up from the floor, looking the man in the eyes, smirking. "Did it?" He gives him a manically smile.

— — — — —

The surrounding area is bright white. A guard is standing by the door, a spear in one of her hands, the metal glinting against the harsh light. The warrior is dressed in a red armour with silver plating on the edges and neck, their head completely shaved, instead replaced with an intricate design. Yawa sighs, slouching slightly forward on the bed she had been given. The cell was sparsely furnished with a bed, desk and a small cupboard pushed against the wall, a bathroom attached and hidden behind a wall, housing a toilet and small shower.

Yawa looks up at the guard, examining their movements - or lack of. She flexes the fingers on her right hand, the left arm having been removed in case she tries to attack them. She knew she didn't need the arm, but she assumed it just gave them a sense of security for her not to have it. She goes to lay back when footsteps bring her head out of her mind, a woman in a t-shirt, shorts and trainers walks into the room, her hair up in two buns. There is a pun of some sort on the t-shirt, but Yawa can't make it out fully. Beside her is another guard, for safety her mind supplies.

She does not close the door, which catches her as odd as everyone else makes sure to lock it when they enter or exit. She walks over to Yawa, sitting down beside her on the bed, taking her hand in a soft and caring grip. "Hi." She says softly, her voice is Wakandan... just like T'Challa's was, but it's more kind and playful than the king's ever was. "I know you won't reply, but you're safe, and we're going to help you." The more Yawa listens, the more the voice seems familiar to her but she can't place it.

Yawa looks at her, looking at her facial structure before looking over at the small mirror on the wall, at her damaged features. Her eyes are sunken in slightly, tired looking. Her hair is more neat than what it was when she first arrived but it's still in a bit of a disarray. The ex-assassin looks back at the woman, trying to piece why she seems so similar. Too similar. She goes to ask something when she feels something warm and comforting spread up her arm, her body going heavy and leaning into the woman. "I'll bring you back." The woman says, her voice distorted. Then everything goes black.

— — — — —

Back in the Avenger's compound, Tony and Rhodey are standing in a large open room with white walls, equipment is scattered about and the room looks like that of a gym, just slightly more simple. Tony is leaning against the wall, watching as Rhodey walks between parallel bars, his hands gripping it tightly as he tentatively walks, his legs supported by a metal exo-skeleton. "It's just the first pass." Tony reminds him, watching the movements with a crucial eye.