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KP - Episode 4
🕑 Added 2023-08-28 16:21:19 +0000 UTC- Word Count: 4928
- A/N: Nobody told me how much work it is to raise a lovebird. Nanna’s lot of work. I have cleaned over ten droppings today alone… On other news, my new Patreon page’s up and running. Check it out?
- Patreon.com/Regularrr
- And, as I’ve said, I’ll stop updating my other account after 3rd of September. Thank you all for the support, and please enjoy.
We step into the laboratory, where darkness and dampness envelop us just like they do in the depths of my imagination. The sterile atmosphere evokes a peculiar sense of both excitement and mystery, reminiscent of the eerie vibes found in classic horror tales. And there, suspended before me, is a hanging table that mirrors the very one that had animated Frankenstein’s Monster.
I know not whether to explore the secrets and wonders that await within these walls or balk at the row and row of science equipment, but one thing is certain: Today’s gonna be my last, ain’t no doubt about it.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Campbell?” Erskine asks, the scientist’s scratchy beard making him look just that much more sketchy to my eyes. “You’re looking a little…”
My stare doesn’t leave the large iron maiden located in the middle of the room. “Shaken. Is this not what you came for?”
"That's absolutely misleading!”
I struggle in the restraints he slapped onto me earlier. “I came for a power-up, not to trap myself in a torture chamber!” I can’t help but let my exasperation seep into my thoughts, a sentiment that must have been palpable to Erskine as a playful chuckle escapes the good Doctor’s lips. As we gradually approach the ominous and gleaming metal contraption, my unease grows exponentially.
The very instant Erskine halts, instinct drives me to leap off the bed, arms brought up in front of my chest defensively only to collide with the shackles around them. “Oh, cease your drivel.” The scientist rolls his eyes. “You were the one who let me put those on you.”
Lips twitching in irritation, I protest loudly. “Dr. Erskine, I hardly believe fastening metal restraints around my wrists when I was clearly unsuspecting can be considered in any way, shape or form consensual!”
How in the world was an elderly gentleman, such as Erskine, able to muster the strength to effortlessly haul the weight of a staggering 400-500 pounds- mine and the cheap bed, all the while exhibiting no visible signs of fatigue? The answer eludes me, although I do suspect he had harnessed the power of a prototype, less refined iteration of the F.L.A.G Serum. ‘Still a stupid acronym by the way–!!!’
“Ouch! What the Hell was that for?!” Indignant at the messy jab, I turn to glare at Erskine who whistles innocently, stating. “Apology, my vision isn’t what it used to be.” The words coming out of his mouth are one thing, the vicious gleam in his cold, steely blue depths is another. I look at the scientist, equal part horrified and confused. ‘Does he possess telepathy too?’
“No, I cannot read minds. You’re just very expressive, Mr. Campbell.” He drawls, hands swiftly unfastening the shackles while I screech internally. ‘What’s the point of putting them on if you’re just gonna take them off so soon?!’
“Glad to see you two have made each other acquaintance.” Ms. Carter joins us, striding across the other side of the room with an older gentleman following behind her. Face lined with marks of aging, worry and negativity; his expression remains between that of a harsh, disapproving father and the mean drill sergeant you are deathly terrified of, even though you’ll never verbally admit it. “Julius, this is Colonel Phillips. He will observe the proceeding if you two don’t mind.”
She said calmly, as if I had a choice in the matter. I am surrounded by superior numbers, outmatched in weaponry, and trapped within an old military compound. Having entered their camp via a mysterious portal and interrupting what appeared to be an important exchange between their super soldier and the scientist in charge of the whole project. As far as criminal acts go, those are more than enough to land me on the shooting range. Doubly so in time of war…
My fate quite literally lies in the palm of the mean-looking Colonel, whether I want to admit it or not.
Hence, I must naturally aim to create not just a good, but the best first impression in the history of Mankind if I want to sell my story, and what’s a better opener than, “Uhm… Whassup?”
Sadly, the popularization of the term hasn’t graced this backwater Earth yet, causing my reference to fall completely flat as Dr. Erskine shoves me in the sterile contraption. “You’re a scientist–”
“Thank you, I’m aware of my profession.”
“Shouldn’t you at least test to see if it’s even possible to use both? This is two separate serums- two combinations of chemicals that, for all we know, can burn holes through my skin on contact if you are not careful!” I trust Anna more than the average person, mainly because it doesn’t make sense for her to go through all the troubles convincing me, only to give me fatal advices before she can benefit from it…
But not to this extend, not to the point I’m . “You can’t just move directly to human testing! It is unethical and highly illegal.”
“The original plan was to use F.L.A.G, which is a tried and tested serum. I assume you trust your contact enough to put your life on the line and prove theirs works as well?” Dr. Erskine counters, leveling a gaze at me. Around me, I see no friends, just people looking to use me for their purposes. “Clinical trials–”
“Look ‘round you, son.” Phillips takes a step forward, gesturing for the scientist and Carter to back off. “There is no time for clinical trial. The Axis powers close in on us every second of every day with their new technology. It isn’t made public, but we are losing grounds, and we are losing it quick. The Alliance- we need something to rebalance- something that can tip the scale of war in our favor… Now, I believed that something was Erskine’s Serum initially–”
The Colonel draws nearer as he speaks, a mere breath's distance between us, his eyes concealed beneath a shadowy veil.
He appraises me, scrutinizing every aspect of my being. "But perhaps there is more to it-" He suggests. "We already possess the something, now we require someone... Will you rise to the challenge?”
Our eyes meet; in his, dwell the endless, maddening horrors of war, while mine harbor a depth beyond words – a glimpse of something untamed. Abruptly, the Colonel recoils, his face draining of color as if having confronted in person wickedness personified.
The expression flickers across his aged features and vanishes in an instant as he inhales sharply; visibly shaken. I too turns away, a burst of shame surging through my body.
‘He SaW uS!’ The voice screeches.
“But I suppose it is understandable you don’t want to be a human guinea pig.” Colonel Phillips makes a complete 180°, same as I really. “Let’s do it.”
Erskine and Ms. Carter exchange worried glances, seeing the tense atmosphere. “You said it yourself, somebody needs to step up to the challenge, and who better than me?” Oh, I can think of loads of people that are a lot more deserving than I am, justifiably so, but in this moment I am a readily available specimen who has already given verbal consent- someone nobody will miss according to my time travel story which is… Perfect.
“Then it’s all set. This way, Mr. Campbell.” Erskine gestures for me to follow him to the contraption, and I nearly balk at the heavy chemicals and headache-inducing thrums of the machinery. “Wait!” Colonel Phillips stops us, hand raised. “Mr. Campbell, indulge me: What’s the worst thing you’ve done?”
I blink at him, my eyes widening, before speaking emphatically. “I have taken a life before... We’re cage-fighting. I put too much strength in a kick which ended up fracturing his ribcages.” I allow a hint of vulnerability to seep through my façade.
‘YoU’re lyIng, SwEEtie.’
“I was desperate… My siblings needed the money and it was legal where- when I’m from.” I correct, and the Colonel challenges. “But that isn’t the worst thing, is it?”
I shake my head. “No,” Responding brusquely. “The most disturbing part is that I enjoyed it. I relished in his defeat when he dropped to the ground, motionless. The guy had been hurling insults at me for months at the time, and it felt satisfying to silence him. I never expected that he would stay down for good… And you know what? I don’t feel all that guilty.” Truth be told, I myself am unware how much of this is the truth and how much is straight bullshit, but it’s better than telling them I murdered my own mother.
For a moment, we face each other, locked in a tense standoff.
Then, the Colonel waves his hand dismissively. "Get him in that damn machine." Then commands.
“C’mon, Mr. Campbell.” I go forth, confidence oozing with every step and using my lats to hide the slight of hand. “I don’t suppose you have a flask I can borrow?”
“We have rubbing alcohol.” Erskine offers with a raised brow, eliciting a chuckle from me. “Thought so.” With no more objection, I leap into the contraption, internally wondering how I’m going to down the Corvinus Strain without causing suspicion when the scientist calls me back. “Your shirt- take it off Mr. Campbell. It'll hinder the injection.”
Whether by Anna's guiding hand or a stroke of fortune, it seems luck has finally favored me. "Just a moment," I mutter, sliding my arms into the constricting military shirt. Tilting my head back, I pour the revolting substance into my open mouth...
It proves to be every but as repugnant as anticipated – a nauseating blend of metallic bitterness entwined with the aroma of chemical baby formula plus putrid discharge. Keeping the liquid contained under my tongue, I throw the shirt to the side, flexing my muscular back and swing my way inside the metal coffin with ease. The doors hiss, discharging steam and enclose around my form while the lightbulbs flicker to life. “You okay? Can you hear me?”
Erskine raps his knuckles against the contraption, the sound resonating sharply in my ears. Hastily, I gulp down the substance, returning the empty vial to my pants pocket. As I do, minuscule needles prick the undersides of my limbs, spine, and the back of my neck.
To my surprise, the sensation is bearable. Nevertheless, the sci-fi steroid infusion leaves me feeling wretched, as if weighed down by the liquid, causing my skin to swell and appear bloated. Though I doubt it can truly compare, I imagine this is what it feels to experience the life of a synthol addict. Injecting that substance is something I would never consider—aside from its toxicity, it undermines the sense of achievement and detracts from the overall experience.
Through gritted teeth, I manage to respond, "Loud and clear!" As my body’s set ablaze with a searing burn. It starts slow, before the heat gradually picks up, leaving me miserable. “It’s start- starting to burn…!”
“Good.” He replies. “It’s supposed to.”
I swallow thickly, absolutely parched as a sensation which feels like porcupine quills pricking the back and front of my throat crawls up the roof of my mouth to my tongue. “Is it just me, or is it heating up in here?” If it’s only hot, I’ll have no issue but it’s even itchy, and due to how the contraption is shaped, I am unable to scratch my back where it’s as if millions of ants are skittering restlessly. “Has it begun yet? Dr. Erskine… Ms. Carter… Anyone?!”
My heartrate increases rapidly as shortness of breath makes itself known,
I don’t have to be a psychiatrist to know it’s a prelude to a full-blown panic attack, which if the good Doctor doesn’t hurry up, will have untold consequences for all of us. A faint, whispered voice brushes against my skin, caressing softly. ‘HeLlo thEre, AsShole—’ It teases, sending a cold shiver down my spine. ‘MiSs mE?’
"Relax. I'm setting things up!"
Erskine's voice breaks through the eerie whispers, his words laced with frustration. "Damn it... Stupid, stupid... Should have called my assistants.”
Miss Carter offers her assistance, asking, "Dr. Erskine, do you need help?"
"Ah-Yes, Ms. Carter! Please connect those tubes for me!" Erskine's request is met with urgent footsteps. Though mere seconds have likely elapsed, trapped within this metal death-trap with the temperature rapidly rising, it feels like decades; if not centuries have passed by- decades in which my patience is tested every minute of every day. "Hurry it up, doctor! I'm... I'm freaking suffocating in here!"
I exclaim, my words intermingling with the irritated chirps of Nanna and the labored breaths of someone, presumably Steve who violently barrel through the door. “What’s going on here? Is that Julius?!” Flapping wings echo outside the contraption, my avian friend’s most likely. “Steve, Julius is–”
"I'm fine, Steve!" I respond, though the truth is far from it. I may not be fine in any manner, but every journey must begin somewhere. I cannot hope to journey works of fiction as an average Joe… Just because I choose not to stay out of conflict generally doesn’t guarantee that others will not attempt to provoke or take fault with me and my actions. Mercy is a luxury reserved for the strong, hence in order to be merciful I must grow stronger.
The weak often cannot afford the luxury of mercy, as they lack the power or advantage to claim such a position. In many cases, it is not a deliberate act of mercy, but rather the outcome of their inability to defend themselves or take action. I am neither into world domination, nor joining the never-ending race for strength. I will just gather enough, enjoy an easy time in these fictional worlds, then rest easy when the time comes for me to… Depart, I guess. “Erskine!”
In my frustration, I yell again, desperately hoping he hurries the process. The scientist responds, equally exasperated, "Mr. Campbell, your impatience is NOT helping the situation! Allow us time to recalibrate the machine!”
"Mind explaining why you didn't think of that beforepumping me with potentially radioactive substances?!" I retort, pointing out the obvious. After all, if the darn thing glows, it's most likely harmful to your system and I have had multiple serums injected in crucial areas of my body. “It skipped my mind, and they are radioactive.”
This motherfu– “Remember a second ago when you told me I wasn’t helping, jackass?! Right back at you!”
"Almost there, and... Done!" Declares Erskine as the machine springs to life, releasing a cloud of what I can only surmise is anesthetic gas. Suddenly, a blinding flash engulfs me, searing my skin in its brilliance. "Argh! Ahhh!" I cry out in agony, hoping yet knowing this won’t end any time soon. “You’re hurting him!” I am able to make out Steve’s concerned scream through the ears-piercing hums of the heavy machinery.
“Stopping now will guarantee his death!” The scientist counters, barking. “You wanna help? See that nub over there? Dial it to 20%! Quick!”
As my life swiftly passes before my eyes, the voice erupts with sinister laughter. "30%!" It howls, adding another layer of discomfort to the already harrowing experience. My brain can no longer process their words, although a sound that eerily resembles, “40%” sounds as darkness curtains my vision, before I gain the ability to see with my other senses. I can smell the lingering perfume on Ms. Carter; I can hear Steve’s frail lungs expanding in the confines of his chest; and feel the tinge of decay wafting off the older men.
They don't have much time left to live.
Erskine’s approaching the end of his life, his time running out, while a lifetime immersed in warfare, smoking, and exposure to gunpowder and toxic gases has obviously taken its toll on Phillips, which has resulted in rapidly spreading cancer cells in the back of his throat and vocal cords. ‘How am I doing this?’
I had anticipated many changes: Enhanced strength, speed, agility, and durability to list a few… However, the extent to that my senses have heightened surpasses expectations. Can I even be considered human anymore? Alas, existential crisis can wait. Motes of light swiftly ascend from my body as my muscles coil and meld together, growing denser and denser with each passing moment.
A similar transformation takes place within my organs and bones as well, causing them to collapse and compact until I am... Diminutive in size.
‘All that, just to become a dwarf?’
I can’t help but chuckle. ‘Anna, you troll.’
She’s probably having a laugh at my expense right now. Bitch! Then unconsciousness claims me, which I gladly welcome.
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
"You saw something in him- something I didn't," Agent Carter accuses, her tone pointed. The Colonel keeps his hands clasped behind his back, steadfastly refusing to avert his gaze from the contraption before them.
Partly motivated by fear, partly driven by curiosity, he responds, "Chaos... I saw in his eyes Absolute Anarchy."
"And you allowed Mr. Campbell to take the serums, why?" The former MI6 agent inquires, her tone utterly devoid of blame, prompting the old Colonel to sigh. "We need more than just a symbol of hope to prevail in this war. Hitler has his monsters, and we shall have ours." As they speak, the light intensifies, causing the group to shield their eyes from the dazzling explosion engulfing the laboratory. “This is a dangerous game you’re playing, sir. There’s no guarantee we can control him.”
"We don't have to,"
Phillips interjects, shaking his head.
"We just need to direct him towards our enemies, and if necessary, deal with him later. In the worst-case scenario, we can deploy other super soldiers to eliminate Mr. Campbell after the war.” Agent Carter acknowledges the Colonel's ambition, but she believes the man is ignoring a critical concern. "What if he attempts to kill us the moment he is freed? If you recall, one of F.L.A.G's side effects is irritability and the amplification of one's natural traits, ergo this… Chaos.” She points out.
"He won't," Phillips asserts with conviction, shaking his head. "You witnessed the shame in his expression as well. If his negative traits are amplified, so will his virtues.”
Agent Carter adds. “That sense of shame will serve as a constraint, but only temporary. Once the boy has experienced the horrors of war, I'm afraid...” She trails off, eyes fixated intently on the contraption while listening to the escalating cries of agony. "60%." Erskine commands, and Steve follows to a tee, adjusting the dial with a resolution even though his instinct incessantly orders him to stop and get the young boy out.
“70%... 80%!”
The lovebird flutters frantically in Steve's hands, desperately trying to break free and rejoin her flock. "No... You can't, you have to wait for Julius, okay?" He implores, hoping that his gentle words will calm her. Instead, it only rouses greater ferocity within her. In a swift motion, she slips through the gap between his fingers, escaping his grasp and flying to the contraption, beak tapping the glass as though trying to break it with what little force she can muster.
"Someone, grab the bird before-" Erskine begins, but his words are too little too late.
With a determined flap of her wings, the lovebird ascends towards a nearby cord and sinks her beak into it with a vicious fury.
Anger personified- a ball of feathery fury, Nanna clenches onto the cord tightly and pulls. Smart as she is, she has chosen the smallest cord to hang onto. Thus, with another tug, she successfully unplugs it. “Steve!” The scientist scolds, slowly waddling his way to the cord as she flies to another, and another, and another. “That’s not how you turn to turn it off! Those are–”
In a split-second decision, Carter draws her gun and fires a warning shot, causing the small bird to be startled and fly away.
Undeterred by it, Nanna lands behind the contraption and begins pulling on a cord, causing blue liquid to seep into her mouth. Unwavering in her determination, she persists even as the vita-rays scorch and reduce her feathers to ashes.
*Beep
*Beep
“Warning: System Overloading.”
“RUN!!!”
Amidst the chaos, everyone scrambles for cover as a powerful explosion reverberates through the entire building.
In an instant, millions of dollars' worth of equipment is obliterated, consumed by a cloud of fire and smoke. The plugs which provided power to the cooling system that’s crucial for the engines and preventing the vita-rays from overloading, are now destroyed. The laboratory is quickly plunged into darkness, shrouded by the aftermath of the devastation as they cough and burst out of the door. They each exhale to rid themselves of the chemicals that are filling their lungs and greedily inhale again.
“Dammit… Why- *Cough- Why did you bring a wild animal inside?!” Erskine yells in frustration, before letting loose a burst of coughs, his frail body slowly losing strength as he collapses on the floor. “Nanna isn’t wild, she is-” Steve takes a pained glance at the laboratory. “She… Was Julius’. Oh God, she was Julius’. He isn’t going to be happy.”
Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips share apprehensive glances, the trust they once placed in the belief that Julius wouldn't harm them now wavering. After all, vengeance- it's a powerful motivator that can shatter even the strongest of bonds, let alone the weak link that has barely been established between them. "This situation is far from promising, Colonel," Carter comments, her tone tinged with worry and a hint of sarcasm.
"You don't have to remind me, Agent." The Colonel replies curtly, his voice reflecting a mix of frustration and resignation, to which the MI6 Agent replies sarcastically. “I didn’t have to, I wanted to.”
"Just prepare your firearms in case." The Colonel declares, a flicker of impatience and anger finally surfacing in his demeanor. "As you command," Agent Carter responds. The gravity of the situation isn’t lost on her, and she readies herself for the potential threat. Sure enough, enraged trills begin to echo through the lab soon after. “I… Don’t like the sound of that.”
"Me neither." Phillips admits, raising his handgun alongside Agent Carter. Both of them are aware that their small-caliber weapons may not be sufficient in the face of an enhanced Julius, hence with great urgency, Phillips gives the future Captain America a decisive order. “Go get us reinforcements."
Seeing the serious looks they wear, Steve pales. “Understood.” The skinny man rushes for the exit just as glowing eyes peer at the group from within the shadows. Rising to a staggering 6 feet, its tail flickering aimlessly, the two-legged creature tries to leap onto Dr. Erskine’s back, nipping at his coat. “God, don’t just stand there. Shoot it!”
Thus, they open fire, raining hails of molten slags upon the creature who, while still without a scratch, looks positively livid at the audacity. Slowly, the creature steps out of the smoke, head tilting left and right curiously, its form a sleek and feathered velociraptor with muscles to spare for days; a body covered in iridescent feathers that reflect a haunting combination of deep blue and bluish grey.
Sharp, serrated feathers extend from its arms, making for formidable slashing weapon.
Its menacing head features a long, slender snout lined with sharp, serrated beak-like jaws, capable of delivering a bone-crushing bite. Two piercing, intelligent eyes, glowing with an eerie crimson hue, give it the predator’s a gaze that strikes the fear of God into the souls of its prey.
Each foot of the velociraptor ends wickedly sharp, curved talons that gracefully scrape the floor- leaving indents as it cautiously moves, ready to pounce at any moment. Its powerful legs propel it forward with breakneck speed, allowing the dinosaur to swiftly close in on its targets, fully indulging in its hunting instincts.
The creature emits distressing, high-pitched, yet nevertheless haunting screeches, echoing through the building to herald its coming.
A screech that leaves grown men shuddering in terror. Its agile movements and cunning intellect combined with its ruthless nature make it a truly formidable adversary to face, and as it dives forth, all three people begin to see their lives flash before their eyes. All their hopes and dreams and aspirations, gone in that jagged, gaping maws of it… Then they remember they can move, and though clearly above anything a human’s capable of, the feathered velociraptor still abides by the laws of physics, ergo it can’t reach its top speed in one leap.
Despite its limitations, the velociraptor proves to be remarkably swift, outpacing most land animals. It strikes Dr. Erskine with a searing blow, causing him to scream and collapse to the side. The impact leaves the velociraptor’s head to collide into the wall, forming hairline cracks and even breaking apart a piece of the structure. Although the facility is designed to endure formidable events, even it struggles to withstand the power of the velociraptor.
Agent Carter observes its for injuries, cursing when she discovers none. “Hold your fire! It’s bulletproof, we’re just giving it more reasons to prolong our sufferings!”
Then, in a displays that shocks both men, she raises her gun- aimed at the ceiling and slowly, deliberately makes a show of laying it down.
“Nanna?” The dinosaur tilts its head, and a brilliant smile blooms on the Agent’s painted lips. “It’s that fucking bird?!”
Erskine whispers, startling the lovebird-turned-velociraptor with his frustration, and she snaps towards him head first, her eyes glowing bright. Next, her body turns slowly and awkwardly, and yet somehow her head seems locked in place- eerily motionless.
“God, I know I have sinned, but this is no way for a man to die.” Most people, when faced with insurmountable odds, will choose to turn to faith, as ridiculous as it may seem. It gives them meaning, or is merely a way for them to deny accountability. Dr. Erskine, while flawed, is not the latter, but he isn’t the initial either. In fact, if anyone had asked him prior to this very moment, he’d have gladly told them where to stuff their dusty old book.
But he begs, sincerely because… Well, nobody- not even one of the greatest genius of his time- wants to be torn to pieces by those talons. Things are so polished they damn-well shine, plus its quill-like feathers don’t look like all that welcoming either. “Nanna! Look at me, girl.” Carter coos, blushing slightly at the odd gazes the older gentlemen send her. “It’s me, I’m Julius’ friend!” The velociraptor tilts her head again, her one eye dilating to detect signs of deception.
When she finds none, she brushes her tail against the woman’s face, before leveling death glares at the two men. Phillips hurriedly drops his firearm, exaggeratedly throwing his arms up to follow the Agent’s example. “See, I’m unarmed…” Nanna does not move, blinking her eyelid and there it is, dilated iris snapping toward Erskine who flinches and crawls on all four. “Oh God!”
“Doctor!” One voice screams.
“Don’t startle her!” A second joins in, but Erskine has long been frozen by fear. It’s practically a miracle he hasn’t peed or shat himself, although it’s only because he thinks it’ll be unbecoming to meet whatever it is on the Other Side soiled. She hisses, and he bursts into tears. “Jesus, Allah, Zeus, Ra… Don’t let me die like this. Not like this, please!” He begs, more sincere than he has ever been in his life yet no one answers his desperate plea. ‘Have I been forsaken for my crimes?’
He quietly asks himself, unfortunately- “Still nothing, huh?”
On cue, Nanna leaps forth- about to take a bite out of his face when panicked trills are heard inside the smoked laboratory.
The humans all glance curiously toward the source, though none dares move their heads in fear of upsetting the beast… Steve and the reinforcements- groups of soldiers stationed right outside the facility, raise their guns with only a few being small calibers. The rest are automatic rifles and heavy machineguns. “Wait, don’t!”
Carter jumps into the line of fire to protect Nanna, arms spread as she shouts. “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot! She’s friendly, just a tad confused!” But faced with such (adorable) monstrosity, how can they obey her orders? Panic seizes them all, yet the velociraptor does not show them any interest, its feathered head standing at rapt attention as more trills near, before– “… Wait, if that is the damn bird, then who’s this?”
From within the smoke, out comes a yellow and red lovebird. “That isn’t Nanna…”
It lands on the velociraptor’s snout, calmly observing its surrounding. “That’s Julius.”
Sure enough, wisps of black smoke and glowing golden motes spill from the bird’s body as it falls to the floor, rising again as a boy who’s still, thankfully, clothed. “Nanna, c’mere.” Unlike her owner, the bird’s transformation’s a lot less impressive, involving her being sucked in a spatial distortion then emerging as her usual form, though she does note down that it is nearly as quick as Julius’. “What the fuck?!”
One of the soldiers echoes the thought that’s surely running across everybody’s mind, “What in God’s green Earth was that shit?!”
“Language!”
And is gently chided by Cap who’s sweating bullets. They watch as the man scratches the creature- bird’s chin, allowing her to land on his shoulders as he flashes a smirk.
“Sorry ‘bout that, guys. Nanna isn’t herself when she’s hungry.”
