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[Alert! Intruder detected!] [Alert! Intruder detected!]
The urgent, mechanized blare of the alarms immediately echoed throughout Camp Lehigh, instantly shattering the calm within the facility.
Natasha froze mid-step. She exchanged a swift glance with Tony, who responded with a strange, amused, yet unsettling gesture. The next second, his armor roared into motion. "Deploy defenses."
Natasha was about to confirm when Mark Series's voice abruptly cut in.
[Alert cleared! Level 3 access granted. Do you wish to immediately terminate the current access? Access requester is requesting communication.]
"Huh?" Natasha paused, then sharply ordered, "Connect. Control the chaos."
[Mark Series acknowledges.]
A moment later, a video feed sprang up before her. On the screen, a group of Camp Lehigh guards, wearing the distinct camp uniforms, were surrounding a single figure: a young man with long, unkempt hair. One hand rested on a battered briefcase tossed on the ground, and the other was raised in a clear, non-hostile gesture of surrender.
"I need an explanation!" Natasha demanded, locating the Level 3 access user's name in the Mark Series data: "Mr. Hardy Shrock!"
Level 3 access was the Beginner-level authority granted to Camp Lehigh's guard force, with specific, strict usage conditions.
The protocol was clear: the guards were the first line of defense. Level 3 access allowed the designated Beginner, like the small squad leader, to intervene and control the situation to prevent unnecessary conflict.
If an alert was accidental or if the visitor was clearly of good intention, the guards needed to act immediately. No one wanted needless casualties. If the intruder was unarmed, hadn't damaged camp facilities, and showed no aggressive intent, the Level 3 access could be requested to terminate the alarm. Mark Series would then perform checks and scans to confirm that the intruder posed no threat before the access took effect.
No matter the protocol, Natasha still needed answers.
Hardy Shrock's response, however, left Natasha utterly speechless: "This gentleman was once our Captain."
"You mean… he…" Natasha's voice faltered as she finally recognized the man's face. The next second, she turned sharply to address Tony,
Only to find he was gone!
"Damn it!"
Natasha furiously tried to connect to Tony, but all she got was a busy signal. Tony wasn't answering. Then, she watched his unmistakable figure suddenly appear in the live Mark Series video feed.
"Tony!"
Natasha yelled into the silent comms, "I need you to stay calm, Stark!"
Tony, already wearing his iron faceplate, looked directly into Mark Series's video lens with eyes that were both terrifyingly bright and strangely composed. "So what do you think I should do, Romanoff?"
Natasha was left utterly speechless.
All she could do was curse silently in her head.
Neither she nor Arthur could have possibly expected that Bucky, who had gone off traveling the world seeking peace, would choose this exact moment to return.
It had only been a few days! Traveling the world, was that just a leisurely trip to nearby towns for sightseeing?
Most importantly, with Arthur not at Camp Lehigh, who could possibly stop a rampaging Tony?
But from Natasha's position, she knew she had no right to reason with Tony in this moment.
It wasn't Bucky who had killed his parents, but the monster that had been hiding inside that cold, metal shell. No one, not Arthur, not Natasha, no one besides Tony himself, clearly had the moral authority to help him decide what came next.
And at that moment, the armored Tony in the video suddenly extended both hands, unleashing an immense surge of golden repulsor energy from his palms.
The guards immediately scattered, but Bucky, standing directly in the line of fire, didn't even flinch. He was violently flung backward.
His body slammed hard into the reinforced wall of the Camp Lehigh base tunnel, producing a deafening, sickening crash.
With the faint, cold whir of mechanical friction, Tony, still masked, approached the downed figure. He then lifted his iron mask, revealing a face ravaged by complex, unbearable emotion.
Bucky tried to rise to his feet, but as soon as he put weight on his left arm, a sickening gush of blood erupted from a newly opened wound.
If he had used his metal arm to block the attack, the damage might not have been so severe. With his ingrained combat experience and reflexes, he would normally have been able to defend himself before the blast reached him.
But… he hadn't.
Just as Tony had instantly recognized him, he, too, had instantly recognized the man in the armor.
He knew exactly who he was. Over this time of self-discovery, he had been paying more attention to Tony Stark than anyone else on Earth.
It was difficult to define the emotion that surged through him in that instant.
For Bucky, all of this was a continuous, unending nightmare.
And the nightmare had begun seventy years ago.
For years, living in a haze under Hydra's manipulation, his hands stained with innocent blood, he recalled the solemn oaths taken when he first joined the army, the pledges to the flag that once ran through his body and soul, engraved into his very spirit, now all irrevocably defiled by these years of confusion.
When he first started remembering who he was, his heart was filled mostly with confusion and profound unease.
During that time, if Arthur hadn't been there to offer a few words of anchor now and then, he probably would have gone completely insane.
Memories were like a slow-acting poison: the more he remembered, the deeper the pain grew, vivid and undeniable.
When at last he remembered everything, he had bid Arthur goodbye. He wanted to see the world he once protected, what it had become.
Yet those deep, buried bonds of friendship always appeared in his dreams, intertwined with the fresh horror of blood.
Finally, he could no longer endure the uncertainty.
Back at Camp Lehigh, at that moment, he had steeled himself for everything, ready to face whatever came.
But it came faster than he expected. No sooner had he returned than he was confronted by Tony Stark.
It was a strange mix of relief and regret. And in the instant his body was thrown through the air, more than anything, he felt confusion about Tony's pain.
As he lifted his head and their eyes met, he saw a pair of eyes filled with both confusion and unspeakable anguish.
And was all of this simply because of his own return?
He gave a bitter, self-deprecating smile, gritting his teeth against the pain. "I'm very sorry…"
(End of chapter)