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[b][center][color=black] C A P T A I N   A M E R I C A[/color]
[color=9ADAFF]C A P T A I N   A M E R I C A[/color][/center]
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[INDENT][hr][/INDENT][INDENT][color=DARKGRAY][center][sub]"Glory to our great people, the people victorious!
Eternal glory to the heroes who fell in the struggle against the enemy 
and gave their lives for the freedom and happiness of our people!"
- Joseph Stalin[/sub][/center][/color][/INDENT][INDENT][hr][/INDENT][indent][sub][COLOR=9ADAFF][B][I]???[/I][/B][/COLOR][/sub][/indent][indent][sup][right][COLOR=9ADAFF][B]BRAVE NEW WORLD[/B][/color][/right][/sup][/indent]
[INDENT][INDENT][INDENT][color=DARKGRAY]The first sound Steve hears is a vibrant swell of trombones and trumpets from a nearby radio. Then, the infectious sounds of cheering and laughter coming from a few rooms over. As his eyes open gradually, he takes in his surroundings, slowly coming to the realization he's in a room. He pushes himself up in the bed and finds the other beds empty, recently made and pressed. His gaze drifts to the window on the far side of the room with a view of the outside world, set against a backdrop of farmland framed against the gray sky. Light rain taps rhythmically against the glass, which strangely complements the tail end of the music from the radio. Just then, a thick English accent crackles through the speaker, bursting with excitement.

"Celebrations continue across the country as thousands rejoice at the end of the Nazi war machine! Here in London, jubilant crowds have flocked to Buckingham Palace, their joy palpable with every glimpse of the royal family on the balcony. So far, they have appeared three times throughout the day, each occasion igniting waves of cheer from the masses. Over at Piccadilly, servicemen and civilians are merrymaking in such a collective manner not seen in a long while. And there are also reports that some individuals have taken a dip in the fountains at Trafalgar Square. With the pubs and dance halls promising to stay open all night long, it is quite evident that the party is only just getting started on V-E Day!"

As another lively tune begins to play, Steve absorbs the news in absolute silence, his heart swelling with a profound sense of contentment. The war is finally over, Europe has been liberated from fascist oppression, and justice can finally be served against those who orchestrated atrocities against the innocent. This moment, this feeling, is nothing short of euphoric. Then, he looks at the empty bed across from him and his heart sinks. Bucky should be here with him, celebrating by his side, not dead with no body to bury. A part of him foolishly hopes he might have gone to the bathroom or gone to the raucous party down the hall. But no, Bucky... is dead, killed in action. There is no way of denying it, nor praying he walks through the door to greet him with that sweet smile of his. Steve understands that, but it doesn't stop his thoughts from inevitably retracing every second on that damn plane. 

It is so painfully fresh in his mind, etched in like a nightmare.

He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to ground himself amidst the whirlwind of sorrow and pain. Steve cannot afford to grieve at this moment; this isn't the time nor the place for it. Not until he understands where he is and what has happened to the rest of his unit. So he takes a deep breath, tosses the blanket aside, and swings his feet over the edge of the bed. He gathers his strength and hops off. And if not for the metal bed frame, he would have tumbled face-first onto the floor. It's admittedly surprising how agile he feels after intentionally crashing the plane into the ocean. He had honestly braced himself for far worse. A soft chuckle escapes him, the miracles of the serum playing their part once more. 

But just as he's about to take another step, a sudden gasp halts him in his tracks. He looks up and sees a nurse standing in the doorway, her eyes wide in disbelief. She quickly composes herself, smoothing her curly hair while colorful confetti falls to the floor, and rushes over to help. Steve lifts a hand to halt her approach, mustering a reassuring smile as he steadies himself against the bed frame with the other. 

[color=white]"Sorry for startling you, ma'am,"[/color] he says, relieved and slightly astonished to still be standing upright.  

[color=A7AA8B]"Are you alright? I heard- Oh!"[/color] A doctor appears, equally taken aback by the sight of his patient awake and on his feet. He strides toward them, adjusting his tie with a look of disbelief. [color=A7AA8B]"You're up—standing no less! H-how are you feeling?"[/color]

Steve doesn't know how to answer. He's in an unfamiliar place, with no clue how long he's been unconscious. It could have been weeks or even months since the assault on the research facility. The whereabouts of the Howlers, the rest of his squad, weigh heavily on his mind; for all he knows, they could be dead too, just like… No. Fury won't allow that to happen, not without a damn good reason. For all Steve knows, he and the others are probably still out there in Eastern Germany celebrating this 'V-E Day' alongside the Soviets. He clings to that desperate hope. He [b]needs[/b] to because he's not sure he can bear any more loss. He already got his childhood friend killed, after all. The guilt would consume him whole.

Steve clears his throat and manages to say, [color=white]"A bit thirsty."[/color]

[color=A7AA8B]"It would surprise me if you weren't,"[/color] the doctor says and then turns to the nurse. [color=A7AA8B]"Get him some water and food, preferably some mashed potatoes to be safe."[/color] 

The nurse nods, still shocked, and makes her way out of the room while seeming to tuck her hair behind her ear. But just as she slips out of view, Steve notices a subtle movement. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees her quickly insert something that looks like an earplug into her ear before vanishing from the room. That puts him on alert, which the doctor quickly picks up on. [color=A7AA8B]"Everything alright?"[/color] he asks sincerely out of concern.

Steve meets his gaze and forces out a smile while saying, [color=white]"I'm fine."[/color]

The doctor, seemingly reassured, decides to begin a rather thorough physical examination. Steve complies, but the unease still lingers, causing him to further examine his surroundings. The radio is now playing classical music, and the party outside remains as lively as ever. All seems well, normal even. Then, he glances over to the window to see if the rain has let up. It hasn't, but that's when he notices something so tiny yet uncanny among the clouds. A black square. At first, he thinks it's his mind still adjusting to waking up, but with every blink, it remains. Before being able to grasp this bizarre sight, the doctor's deliberate cough snaps him back to reality. 

[color=A7AA8B]"Are you sure you're okay?"[/color] the doctor probes again, lowering the clipboard.

Steve rubs his eyes, drawing in a steadying breath. [color=white]"Must be my head playing tricks, but I swear I just saw something peculiar in the sky."[/color] 

[color=A7AA8B]"Could very well be the case. I don't mind taking a peek, though,"[/color] the doctor offers with a smile before heading towards the window to investigate. Steve begins to note all of the discrepancies now made apparent. The music from the radio sounds unnaturally clear, with the radio itself being immaculate. The noise from the party outside, the laughter and chatter, feels almost mechanical, as if on repeat. Not to mention the earplug the nurse used. He looks back at the doctor to see if he's doing anything else. But so far, he's just searching around. Then, for a split second, his pupils dilate as if he sees the square. And yet his face remains unreadable; instead, he deftly scribbles something down on the clipboard. [color=A7AA8B]"I didn't find anything strange,"[/color] he states, his tone gentle, [color=A7AA8B]"As you have alluded to, your mind is simply just grappling with hallucinations that many patients encounter after enduring... challenging experiences like yours. This will pass within a day, at worst."[/color]

Steve struggles to trust him, even though the information makes total sense. The secrecy surrounding everything is quite tiresome to maneuver in his current state. So, just this one time, he decides to stop playing along and rip the band-aid off. 

[color=white]"Where are we?"[/color] he asks bluntly.

[color=A7AA8B]"Odstock Hospital, near Salisbury,"[/color] the doctor replies while getting ready to continue the exam. [color=A7AA8B]"It's a quaint village that-"[/color]

But before he can finish, Steve pushes himself off the bed in frustration, surprising the doctor. [color=white]"No—[b]where[/b] are we really?"[/color]

The doctor nervously chuckles, now clearly confused. [color=A7AA8B]"I.. I don't understand."[/color]

In one swift motion, Steve snatches the clipboard from his grip and skims through the pages, each glimpse of its contents only raises more questions that would have to go unanswered for now. As the doctor's pleas quickly morph into threats of calling security, the urgency to wrap up heightens. Then, he stumbles upon a hastily scrawled note at the bottom of the second-to-last page: 'fix dead pixel at right corner. patient spots it.'  

The black square is supposedly a 'dead pixel,' a term he has never heard before in his life. But why would the doctor bother to mention this? It isn't like anyone else is... Steve suddenly feels the urge to run as far as possible from this place. So he acts on his instinct by hurling the clipboard at the doctor, the edge of it striking him squarely in the face. Seizing the chance, Steve bolts past him, only to crash headlong into the nurse in the hallway. They both tumbled to the ground, sending her tray of mashed potatoes to the floor and shattering the glass of water. The dazed nurse looks at him and tries to ask if he's alright. But Steve, fueled by adrenaline, doesn't wait for her to start and springs back to his feet.

Ignoring the frantic shouts of the nurse pleading for him to stop, he charges toward the double doors. He has little idea of what awaits him on the other side, but he's more than ready to adapt to any situation. But instead of a stairway, he finds himself in a desolate room that resembles a warehouse. Steve staggers around the back of the makeshift set, trying his hardest not to freak out. He sees another double door in the distance ahead and makes a beeline for it.

As Steve flings the doors open with all his might, he abruptly finds himself surrounded by at least a dozen people. They aren't all armed, but could easily hold their own if it came to that. One of them, a man in a trench coat and sporting an eye patch, makes his way through the crowd rather nonchalantly, as if he anticipated this. He lowers a man's baton before staring at him in restrained awe, a look Steve has faced countless times before, whether from seasoned generals or bewildered civilians. But he's doing an impressive job of showing restraint as he turns to the man and admonishes him, [color=4F677A]"Put that away, agent. No need for theatrics anymore."[/color]

He walks toward Steve and extends a hand in greeting, a gesture of peace amidst the standoff, [color=4F677A]"Corporal Nicholas Fury."[/color][/color][/INDENT][/INDENT][/INDENT]
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