Regularr
patreon
KP - Episode 3
🕑 Added 2023-08-28 16:19:38 +0000 UTC- Word Count: 5134
It’s both painful and yet strangely comforting to feel the rush of blood and adrenaline to my brain – a reminder to me that I’m still alive, that my journey isn’t over yet. My muscles and flesh feel heavy and sluggish, but as terrible as it may be, sometimes being able to experience pain is in itself a privilege.
With a pained groan, I reflexively reach for my face as I slowly open my eyelids, welcomed by the serene glow of the setting sun. “W- Where am I?” The question is mostly rhetorical as it isn’t difficult to take a guess with the irritating and constant beeps of medical machines I am currently hooked to. The hospital I’m in seems like it is in tatters, having more in similarities with a hut in the middle of nowhere than any respectable establishment has a legal right to look.
“Nanna?” I breathe a sigh of relief as I hear the irritated chirps of my avian friend coming from the other room when I call out to her. “Where’re you, girl?”
The words leaves me breathless, draining the air from my already deflated lungs. I collapse back onto the bed, struggling to hold back the surge of nausea that threatens to escape my sore throat.
“This… Feels awful.” Exhaling slowly, I quietly express my discomfort. Attempting to turn on the bed, hoping to lessen the intensity of my sickness, I soon realize my efforts are in vain. “New Year’s resolution: Never allow myself to be put in that situation again.”
“That’s reasonable.” Suddenly, a cough that sounds distinctly feminine. I whirl around coming face to face with a soldier dressed in a World War II uniform. Despite wearing heels, she moves silently, her reddish auburn hair cascading down her shoulders. On her red lips sports a confident smile as she struts towards my bedside. “It’s to be expected,”
She begins. “You were shot, after all. If the bullet had landed just an inch to the left, it could have caused long-term mobility issues. Although, your healing abilities probably would have fixed the damages to your nerves and spine over time.” Finishing with an… Accusing, but light tone, it’s obvious the soldier’s trying to appear as non-hostile as possible in fear of startling me.
In a leisure motion, my gaze meanders across the expanse of the room, intuitively seeking out lurking dangers.
In a mere heartbeat, I discern something disconcerting about the carefully arranged backdrop: All the furniture appears virtually unblemished despite its overt utilization in the throes of war. The walls exhibit a frailty that’s synonymous with the contours of an off-putting cardboard receptacle, provoking an unsettling sensation within. Furthermore, the iridescent beams of the sunset cast an air of suspicion upon the scene, saturated with an intensity that defies believability.
As if not yet satiated, an unsettling peculiarity gnaws at my senses – a disconcerting absence of voices, save that of the British soldier.
Within the confines of this military establishment, where combat injuries are a regular occurrence and men are honed to wield lethal force, it strikes me as peculiar that no audible evidence of human presence pervades the space beyond. It defies the realm of reason that a silence so profound could envelop the surroundings, unless, perchance, I have been secluded within a noise-cancelling chamber.
And even so, the melody of nature’s symphony near my window should reverberate through the stillness, permeating the air with its familiar cadence instead.
Locked within the secretive confines of an unknown military stronghold, estranged from a world where I exist as a mere specter, my options narrow down to three stark choices, each demanding careful consideration.
First, I can prove my worth to the British woman and her superiors by showcasing my astute deductive prowess and physical capability.
If I succeed in capturing their attention and gaining their recognition, it’s only a matter of time before I am granted an opportunity to retrieve my phone and take off.
As a riskier alternative, I could adopt a façade of foolishness to elude suspicion.
By navigating this delicate balance between feigned incompetence and genuine cleverness, I might gather valuable intelligence, identify potential allies, and manipulate them, but this is risky as chances are the military, known for their Intelligence Agencies, will be able to play this game far better than I can.
The third course of action presents a direct approach, adhering to Anna’s guidance, wherein I would venture to request a meeting with Dr. Erskine. While his true significance remains shrouded for me, indications suggest he may hold a prominent position as a distinguished scientist in this parallel world.
Embarking on this path carries inherent risks, which will inevitably elicit a series of probing inquiries to which I may struggle to provide satisfactory answers to. Questions such as: How do I know the esteemed Doctor? What motivates sparked my desire to meet him, and possibly from where did I obtain knowledge of his existence? None of the options is good nor ideal, but they’re the best I have, seeing as my phone must’ve been confiscated.
“Mr. Campbell, how’re you feeling?”
Left with little time to pick, I think to myself. ‘Alright, play the fool it is.’
“How did you know my–” I begin, before reaching and patting my pocket, as if searching for my wallet. Letting loose a faux sigh, I rest my back against the bedhead and say with a disarming gasp. “Ah, you found my ID, didn’t you?”
“We did.”
Peggy Carter exudes an air of poise confidence as she elegantly folds her arms, a deliberate gesture that accentuates her already sizeable bust.
‘Honey trap?’ My gaze instinctively veers downward, evading direct contact with the woman who leans against the door frame, ‘unintentionally’ revealing my slight unease in her captivating presence. In an instant, every possible point of interest in the surroundings suddenly becomes more riveting than the magnetic force that emanates from her as I play the part of an unassuming virgin. Let’s hope she’ll buy it. “Mind explaining to me why an alleged time traveler happens to stumble into one of the Alliance’s greatest assets- Dr. Erskine?”
‘Alright, Julius, time to put your thinking cap on. What do you really know about Captain America?’ From what I’ve gathered, he’s a fictional character from Marvel universe- one of the heavyweights in the industry.
It’s been said that he fought against the Nazis in earlier storylines, although whether that remains true in this particular context is still uncertain… Still, considering the time period we find ourselves in. I also recall that he wields a shield as his weapon of choice and goes by the name Steve Rogers as a civilian, and that’s it. Now, time to concoct a convincing lie based on these small, scattered pieces of information. ‘Yay, fun.’
Note the sarcasm, people.
In a firm yet measured tone, I utter the words, “In my time, it was the Axis powers who emerged victorious in the war. That's why I traveled back here, to prevent that outcome from happening.” The statement, crafted with calculated plausibility, carries conviction and a touch of forlorn sadness. To further sell the act, I avert my gaze in shame.
However, to ensure its believability, more fabrications must be weaved into the narrative. “Recently, the Rebel Forces have come across information suggesting the existence of a hero during World War II, a… Super Soldier fighting for the Alliance. I believe this individual is the key to our victory.” With each word, I augment the tapestry of deception in order to instill trust and belief within those who listen. “Steve?”
The woman's voice registers a hint of surprise as she repeats the name, and I pause to allow her to process the information. ‘Looks like she knows who he is... Purrfect.’ I think to myself, yet the thought in my mind takes on a sinister connotation, more befitting a Disney villain than the heroic facade I'm attempting to maintain. “Yes, do you know him?!”
A surge of excitement courses through me, causing me to lean forward involuntarily. The twinkle in my eyes is genuine, untainted by pretense. Unlike my previous ventures into those worlds, where I encountered strangers whose names I never bothered to commit to memory, this is an encounter with an actual, bona fide Superhero, and it’s even someone I know! “I do. He’s enlisted in the Super Soldier program actually.”
‘She does know him!’ Fantastic, people tend to be less rational when it comes to somebody they share a relationship with, and judging from the expression on her face, theirs is definitely a romantic one. She’s compromised. “Uhm, may I know who I’m talking to?”
Curiosity propels me to politely inquire, prompting me to leap off the bed, only to be abruptly halted by the woman’s intervention. “You don’t have to stand, Julius. You’re wounded.” She says, her smile soft and welcoming.
Addressing me by my given name basically closes the gap between us, creating a sense of uncommon familiarity. It appears fortuitous, perhaps, but a lingering unease gnaws at me, whispering that something remains off, though I struggle to pinpoint the cause of this disquiet. “I’m Peggy Carter, I’m assigned as liaison from the British Government to help the US combat Hitler’s secret science division. Welcome to the Alliance, Julius.”
Staring at her outstretched hand, I smirk. “Please, call me Caesar.”
“I definitely won’t.” Ms. Carter responds with a silent hum. We share one look before bursting into soft chuckles, the tension draining from the room in an instant. “I will leave you to rest then, Julius. Colonel Phillips wants to see you.
“Wait, I have a request!”
Ms. Carter pivots, her doe-like brown eyes radiating confusion. “Well, I do have two requests, to be honest. Can I see Dr. Erskine, and may I have my phone back?” I nod in agreement, my hand automatically reaching and scratching the back of my head. “It’s this small handheld device, my BlackBerry phone. It’s of utmost importance that it is returned to me.”
A flicker of awkwardness crosses her face. “While I may trust you, it’s important to note that my trust alone doesn’t guarantee the same level of trust from Colonel and the others. I’ll try to discuss the matter with them, but I cannot make any promises. I hope you understand.” Deep down, I am fully aware that things won’t be so straightforward… No military structure would allow a dubious stranger to simply walk free or use a communication device within their camp, especially during times of war.
Feeling a surge of desperation, I cling to my last resort. “Wait, there’s something crucial on my phone! I have the Super Soldier Serum Formula stored on it. Please, whatever you do, don’t lose it,” I implore, my voice tinged with a detached urgency. I then return to lying back down on the bed, watching as Peggy’s eyes widen in astonishment, visibly caught off guard by the revelation. “I have the finished product stored in the Inventory as well.”
“Inventory?” Starting to sound more and more like a broken record, Peggy repeats my word once more, prompting me to explain.
“The DIS, also known as Digitalized Inventory System utilizes advanced quantum technology to convert and store items as digital imprints. These imprints can then be accessed through my phone, where a virtual representation of all the objects I carry is shown.”
The techno-babbles I just spewed are virtually impossible to check with their current level of technology, it’s a load of horseshit I’m using to raise my value and importance in her eyes, not that I’ll ever admit that outside the confines of my mind. “There are ten vials of Compound V accessible only to me inside. I was hoping Dr. Erskine will agree to a trade, my serum for his. One is intended for Captain America- Apology, I mean Steve Rogers.” I clarify.
“One is for me. You can do as you wish with the other eight vials. Under one- No, two conditions–” I raise a finger up as a captivating smile pulls at the corners of her glossy lips. Immediately, Ms. Carter’s expression hardens, her tone losing the professional. “Of course, Julius. What is it?”
My muscles feels tight with apprehension- coiled. “Only Dr. Erskine is allowed to study Compound V.” I remind myself: Given how politicians operate, I have no doubt they'll try to get their hands on it, hoping to create an army of super-soldiers regardless. But I'm placing all my hope on Dr. Erskine having a realization like Oppenheimer did, understanding just how dangerous and destructive these serums can be. Surrendering ten vials to the Government is already touching my bottom-line, letting them study it will just consume the whole world in a 3rd World War.
“Furthermore, it is imperative that the remaining eight Supes undergo a thorough character evaluation conducted by either myself, Steve, or Dr. Erskine prior to their eligibility for administering the Serum.” The world leaders out there, all they want is power and control. They’d be thrilled to have a bunch of psychopaths at their beck and call, ready to do their bidding without question. That’s why the second condition is absolutely crucial. It’s my way to prevent that from happening. “This is more a request than a demand, but I hope you can keep this under wraps.”
A realization paints itself on Ms. Carter's countenance, evident by the subtle nod of her head. As she confidently strides out of the room, each impact of her heels against the floor forms a leisurely symphony. Yet, in spite of her attempt to conceal it, I can discern a certain unease underlying her steps, betraying a hidden anxiety Ms. Carter fails to mask from my observant gaze.
As soon as she departs, I swiftly find a comfortable position to lay down. Considering the likelihood of others watching my actions via hidden cams, it would be imprudent to display any indications of suspicion.
Furthermore, the idea of taking a nap seems far more appealing than remaining awake and plagued by anxieties. Regrettably, my present circumstances do not permit me much leeway, not without jeopardizing the Alliance’s trust.
Struggling against the discomfort, I exert effort to shift my body sideways and inspect my injury. The stitching job, while not exemplary, meets a satisfactory standard. However, the wound continues to sear with an intense pain that feels unbearable. Despite the agony, my own assessment assures me that my life is not at immediate risk. Pulling up the blanket, I rest only to hear the familiar flaps of wings echoing down the corridor, accompanied by annoyed chirps. “Nanna…?”
From the window, the feathery antichrist bursts into the room, ever the adorable ball of fluff.
Standing behind her is a slender blond person. Despite our sort of similar color schemes, we couldn’t be more contrasting.
Unlike myself, who is tall and muscular as a result of rigorous training and a Spartan, yet nourishing diet, the boy appears as if a strong gust of wind could effortlessly blow him away, with disheveled, light-colored hair and dimmed, crystal blue eyes. It’s almost difficult to connect this young man to the powerful, muscle-clad figure adorned in the American flag that I know from the comics, but there is no denying it – he is Steve Rogers.
There’s an undeniable aura of heroism emanating from him.
“You’re…”
“Julius Campbell, self-proclaimed time traveler, admirer of Heroes and a history scholar in general,” I introduce myself, extending a my left hand for a handshake while holding Nanna in my other palm. “It’s truly an honor to meet you, Captain!”
“Captain?” Hmmm… Curious. What’s with everyone repeating my words today?
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
In a dimly-lit room, Colonel Phillips, the commanding officer of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, sits on a cheap wooden chair, propping his face up with his arm. With a hint of skepticism, he starts to question Agent Carter.
“What’s your evaluation of Mr. Campbell?” He asks if they can truly trust him, all while double-checking the boy’s shiny identification card. The new card has a sleek and modern design, different from their old paper ones, although what upsets Colonel Phillips most, are all the subtle cues that were once used to distinguish between real and fake ID cards present on this card.
From the invisible embossed line of codes to the deceptively simple stamp that reflects a rainbow under specific lighting, it looks, feels and seems authentic. ‘Could it be true?’ He can not help but ask. ‘Will we really lose the war to the Axis powers?’
Noticing the Colonel’s expression of concern, Peggy decides to address his question. With a composed demeanor, the Agent starts, “He’s certainly young, inexperienced, and naïve—an expected combination for somebody his age. The way he moves, he’s definitely been trained in several martial arts. Again, it is expected for someone with his background.”
The Colonel's face seems to age instantaneously, brows creasing- his frown deepening even further. His complexion pales, reflecting the gravity of the situation. However, Peggy continues, undeterred by his reaction, “But that's merely what meets the eye. There's more to him than meets the surface. Personally I don’t believe he’s telling us the whole truths- there were physical cues you cannot discern when looking down at him from a blurry cam, but it’s more obvious talking to him face-to-face.”
Peggy recognizes a certain cunningness in his expression. It’s extremely clear to her that the boy in question is troubles; the actual concern lies in whose troubles will he ultimately be: The Alliance's or the encroaching Axis powers’.
The Colonel listens intently to Peggy’s analysis, his expression growing more and more serious the longer her assessment goes on. “He’s not being entirely forthcoming with us, and his motives are far from altruistic. That cheerful façade he shows is nothing more than a mask… However, I don’t believe he intends to cause us harm or actively support Hitler’s regime. Rather, he seems like the type to seize opportunities presented by war, which I can hardly blame him for.”
There are many politicians and business owners circling the muddy waters to scour for benefits even now, and as shitty and immoral as it is, trying to take advantage of the chaos in itself isn’t illegal. “Let him see Erskine. I have heard rumors about Hydra’s development of advanced energy-based weapons, it’s a matter of time before they figure out the vehicles too. Even if there’s only a one percent chance that he’s telling the truth, we must approach it as an absolute certainty and make the necessary preparations.”
“I’ll talk to Dr. Erskine, in the meantime…”
“The Colonel, with a slight nod, proposes, “Steve will handle the interaction with the boy. He has a keen sense of judgment when it comes to character, and it would be valuable to obtain a second opinion from someone of Campbell’s age group.” The Colonel’s words mainly serve as a way for him to gather his own thoughts, knowing that Peggy has likely come to the same- if not a better conclusion. “Wait, sir…”
“What is it?”
Agent Carter blinks owlishly. “You know Steve’s 25, right?”
For the first time during their conversation, Colonel Phillips shows an emotion other than weariness or worry. “He is?”
“He is.” Agent Carter confirms.
“Huh… No wonder they rejected him so many times. What a scrawny kid.”
— [Kaleidoscopic Polaris] —
Meeting the Captain in person is quite the interesting experience. He must be the most American person I have ever met in my life- someone who genuinely believes in and at the same time embodies: Truth, Justice and the American Way; maybe not physically, but his mentality’s certainly something to be in awe at and admire. “I was wondering, why did you join the military? Not to sound rude but with your height, nobody would’ve blamed you.”
With a touch of righteousness in his voice, the Captain responds, his conviction evident. “It didn’t sit well with me to stay safe while other men are putting their lives on the line for what is right.”
Indeed, compared to my fellow blonde, I’m a worse person by far. I’ve come into this world expecting a quick ride- in and out just like that, when I should have stopped and helped.
Like he told me once, ‘Evil only triumphs when good men stay their words and hands’, and I- in spite of my powers, have instead tried my best to remain out of the fight. These are actual freaking Nazis we’re talking about here- people who created and ran concentration camps in which millions have lost- Nay, are still losing their lives in every minute of every day. How would I live with myself if I were to ignore their plights? “What about you?”
“I just- I got lucky, I guess.” Anna picking me out of ten candidates was never guaranteed.
It was a total coincidence she prefers my character over the other nine. “There’re others who never made it.” Comprehension briefly crosses Cap’s features, followed by sadness and I instantly know he has misunderstood my words, but I don’t bother fixing it.
Allowing others to create fictional narratives and perceptions of oneself is the epitome of deception, and once the idea has taken root and fermented in Steve’s mind, I won’t have to say or do anything. He’ll make up excuses for me, because he’s just that good of a person… “We came into the world alone, we’ll die alone too. I just- I wanted my life and death to have meaning, I guess?” To be remembered fondly by other people, that is my deepest desire, as asinine and childish as it may seem.
I haven’t gotten to live at all, and this may just be my chance. “It’s probably a tad selfish when compared to yours, but… Well, it is mydream.”
Steve Rogers greets me with a friendly smile, extending an unopened coke in a welcoming gesture. However, I politely decline, saying, “Yeah- I think I’ll have to pass.” Memories of a bygone era come to mind, when Coca Cola was rumored to contain unregulated and potent substances.
With my recent victory over smoking, I am understandably not too thrilled to become hooked on another substance, no matter how slim the chances may be. “Not a fan of coke?” I shake my head and reply snootily. “Always been a coffee or tea kind of guy. Coke is too sugary, and it tastes absolutely awful flat. It’s an issue, especially for someone who likes to enjoy warm beverages on cold nights such as I.”
Steve leans in, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. He admits, almost scandalously, “I’m actually more of a tea person myself, but sometimes we have to make do with what’s available.” Very quickly, our conversation starts to involve warfare. At the moment, the Axis powers are holding the upper-hand, according to what Steve has heard from his friends in the frontline.
Propagandas have it that we’re winning, but with each passing day, Germany inches closer and closer on the USSR and the United States with their more advanced weaponry and just a lack of empathy, ethics or a moral compass.
It’s not like there haven’t been tales of sympathetic Germans helping Jews escape to the States and allied nations, but they rarely, if ever get put in the SS due to the differences in ideologies, which also means those who do are often the worst of the worst- psychopaths with little to no issue with human experimentations and testing, thus explaining the sudden jumps in their technological advancements. “Give it to me straight, what’re our chances of winning?”
Steve rests his arms on the chair, eyes fixed on me and asks,
“Give it to me straight, what are our chances of winning?”
Pretty damn high, all things considered, but I have a role to play. “We lost in my Timeline… Most information from the Age of Strife- that’s what the Government called World War 2, was censored. My friends and I, we’re rebels who managed to discover posters depicting you from a hidden bunker. Whoever the owner was, they had lots of interesting stuff stored, which include but isn’t limited to a Time Machine and a cache of Compound V.”
“Compound V?”
Realizing Cap hasn’t been debriefed, I remark. "Right, you haven’t been told yet. Let me fill you in. Compound V is another Super Soldier Serum, similar to what Dr. Erskine developed, the one you’ll be administered soon. That is all I know. The person who tipped us off didn’t really explain anything beyond that.” Yes, I’m well-aware it’s partly my fault for not failing to thoroughly question Annabella, but I’m doing my best! Things have been very overwhelming, aight?!
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
A third voice abruptly interrupts our conversation, aged and embowed with wisdom as our eyes snap towards the older gentleman. “Dr. Erskine, I presume?”
“It is I indeed.” Unlike Steve and I, Erskine dresses in a trench coat that sets my fucking nerves on fire at the sight of it. We are in the middle of Summer, I get aesthetic is important and all, but a damn trench coat, really? And then the good Doctor does something which dissipates my grievances in an instant- he has retrieved my phone from his pocket. “Ah! My phone–!”
Like a starved animal, I lunges for the device, wishing nothing more than to hold it in my hands once again, and- against expectations, Erskine lets it happen. “You claim to possess a variation of my Serum from the future?”
“Not a variation–”
I shake my head, temporarily putting all of Anna’s 500 messages on hold to check the Inventory. Everything’s there still, fortunately. It’s not like I don’t trust Anna, but she has given me two questionableStorylines thus far and counting. “It’s a Serum developed by someone else entirely according to my contact.”
“May I see it?” With a smirk, my hand pierces the screen to pull out ten vials of mesmerizing blue liquid. Immediately, Erskine exclaims. “My, fascinating!” Pffftt, nerd. Hurriedly, I shove one vial in his open, awaiting palms. “There you go.”
Curiosity gleaming in the depths of his eyes, the scientist checks the vial from every angle, occasionally clicking his tongue. “Mr. Campbell, correct?” I nod, prompting Erskine to continue. “May I know why you’ve not used Compound V on yourself?”
“Good question!”
With excitement and cheer in my voice, I exclaim before deliberately lowering my tone, causing both Captain America and the Doctor to lean in. "I honestly have no clue. You will have to ask my contact. Anna specifically instructed me to ensure that you oversee the proceedings. I’m not sure why she chose you, but I’m guessing it’s due to your scientific expertise. Oh, and Anna’s my… Partner?”
I tilt my head. ‘Are we really partners?’
*Ding
Last I checked, the App doesn’t allow communication through Universes, and messaging hasn’t been invented yet, which can only mean- “Oh look, she just texted me!”
“What did she say?”
I chuckle awkwardly, sweating bullets at the wall upon wall of texts. “Well–”
[TELL ERSKINE:
Risks of Compound V:
1. Physical Side Effects: The use of Compound V could lead to severe physical side effects, including physical deterioration, organ failure, or heightened vulnerability to certain diseases.
2. Mental Instability: Some individuals who use Compound V may experience mental instability, such as mood swings, aggression, or psychosis, due to the alterations in their brain chemistry.
3. Addiction: Compound V could be highly addictive, with users becoming dependent on its effects and experiencing withdrawal symptoms when not using it.
4. Unpredictable Powers: The activation of dormant genes through Compound V may result in unpredictable or uncontrollable superhuman abilities, causing accidental harm or destruction.
Effects of Compound V:
Superhuman Abilities: Compound V has been observed to grant individuals a wide range of superhuman abilities. Its effects can enhance physical attributes such as strength, speed, agility, and durability. Additionally, some recipients of Compound V have displayed metaphysical or elemental powers, such as energy projection, weather manipulation, flight, shape-shifting, and even the ability to control and manipulate the fundamental forces of nature.
One prominent effect of the Serum is an increase in physicality, including enhanced muscle growth, accelerated healing, and heightened senses. Individuals who have been exposed to the compound have been known to possess extraordinary reflexes and dexterity, making them formidable opponents in battle.]
‘That’s…’ Way too freaking long. I’m not verbally reading all that. “Here, you can read it.” I tosses the phone to Erskine like a hot potato, and the elderly man- despite his frail and nerdy appearance, grabs it out of the air effortlessly. “What am I supposed to be looking at, Mr. Campbell?”
I blink once, twice then thrice as my brows furrow slightly. “Do you not see the list shown?”
“There is no list, just a picture of your bird, Mr. Campbell.” Erskine explain, putting the phone back in my palms just as Annabella’s message causes the phone to vibrate.
[The Magnus App is a part of you, not the phone. He and everyone else won’t see what you see.]
"Oh..." Steve and Erskine raise an eyebrow at my response. "Apologies, but the app I'm using is encrypted. Only I can see the message. I will read aloud what she sent me, listen carefully." And so, I proceed to read the two those mind-numbingly tedious paragraphs. “Okay, what I’m getting from this is Compound V’s a less stable version of my Serum with many unpredictable effects.”
It does sound like that, doesn’t it? ‘Anna?’ I call accusingly, prompting her to respond.
[That’s why I suggested combining the Corvinus Strain, Compound V, and Erskine’s Serum all at once. This combination will create a balanced effect that enhances effectiveness and minimizes risks.]
She explains to me patiently, and I quickly pass the message to Steve and Erskine. “Ah, so she wants to use F.L.A.G to stabilize V…” The good Doctor says with a smile, “F.L.A.G?”
“Full Latent Ability Gain.”
The scientist breaks down the abbreviation, retrieving a bottled blue vial with dimmer color than the vibrancy of V. “Doctor, you’re probably the greatest scientist of your time, but when it comes to naming stuff you’re awful.” Erskine’s burning glare bores holes in the side of my face.
“Mr. Campbell, do you trust your contact?”
I look at the Doctor, at my beaten form, at the phone next- murmuring. “I guess?”
“Then you won’t have an issue being my lab-rat.” Holy- This motherfucker’s petty! “C’mon, let’s see how the Serums will interact with each other! For science.” He whispers menacingly, carting me and the bed away while I hold onto to dear life, helpless.
“Cap, Cap! Help!!! Help me!”
