How could he be here?
The moment they saw zombie Captain America standing in the underground chamber, holding the Mind Stone Scepter in one hand and the alloy shield in the other, all three of them reacted with the same stunned disbelief.
Rogers had not been part of the first wave of infection, but he had fallen early. After zombie Thanos destroyed Hydra's secret base and began spreading the virus, Captain America, Iron Man, Mr. Fantastic, and the Human Torch confronted him in New Orleans. They were defeated and bitten there.
New Orleans was more than 1,500 kilometers from Washington.
For a rational human, that distance was significant. For a zombie stripped of higher cognition and driven purely by instinct, it was almost impossible. A wandering corpse might drift aimlessly for years and never cross such a distance with purpose.
Yet here he was.
Inside the Triskelion.
Holding the Mind Stone Scepter.
It didn't make sense.
If Rogers still possessed memory, Richard would have read it instantly. Unfortunately, telepathy was useless against the infected. He had confirmed that on his first day in this universe. Zombies had no structured thoughts to parse—only hunger.
"Rogers is… different," Natasha said quietly after several seconds of observation.
"It's not just a feeling," Richard replied. "He is different."
He could see it clearly now.
The zombie Captain America did not charge mindlessly. He hesitated. He studied them. There was something in his gaze that did not match the vacant brutality of the others.
When they appeared, he did not lunge.
He retreated.
That alone separated him from every other infected Richard had encountered.
"What do we do?" Sharon asked under her breath.
"Do you want to bring him back?" Natasha added, her tone serious. "If he retained something, maybe we can learn why."
"No."
Richard answered immediately, without hesitation.
Whatever anomaly existed, he had no interest in preserving it. He had killed one Captain America before. He would not spare this one—especially not when killing him was part of the world challenge.
More importantly, he would not gamble on the Mind Stone amplifying whatever fragment of cognition lingered inside that rotting brain.
Richard raised his hand.
Strong Wind.
A transparent blade of compressed air formed instantly—over one meter long, crescent-shaped, vibrating at high frequency. At Level 4, this ability had evolved dramatically. The blade could slice through reinforced steel unless faced with vibranium or adamantium.
It shot forward.
In a blink, the wind blade reached Rogers' neck.
At the last instant, the zombie Captain America moved.
His shield came up with speed and precision that felt disturbingly familiar.
Ding!
The impact rang sharply through the chamber. The vibranium alloy shield absorbed the blow, though a visible scratch marred its surface.
Blocked.
Natasha's expression hardened.
Sharon tightened her grip on her rifle.
That movement had not been random. It had been trained, reflexive, tactical.
If one ignored the decayed flesh and sunken eyes, that defense could have belonged to the living Steve Rogers.
"I think we should reconsider taking him back," Natasha said quietly, never taking her eyes off him.
Richard shook his head.
"No. Whatever he is now, he's still infected."
He summoned the authentic Yama Sword from system space.
Natasha and Sharon both glanced at it in surprise. The blade was long—far longer than standard katana proportions. In an enclosed underground chamber, such length would normally be a disadvantage.
Richard seemed unconcerned.
"The Yama Sword isn't ordinary," he said calmly. "Length is the least impressive part."
He swung it casually.
Swish.
The reinforced concrete wall beside him parted cleanly. The cut surface was smooth, polished, precise—as if carved by a machine rather than a blade.
Natasha inhaled slightly.
That wall had been built to withstand explosions.
Now it looked like cake.
Richard lowered the sword and focused fully on Rogers.
When the blade appeared, the zombie Captain America reacted.
He lifted the Mind Stone Scepter.
The gem at its tip pulsed.
Green light flared briefly.
Richard felt it immediately—a psychic ripple, distorted but directed.
Interesting.
The Mind Stone was attempting to engage.
Even if the host lacked full consciousness, the Stone itself could project influence. That explained the faint rationality. The artifact was compensating for decayed neural pathways, forcing fragments of structure back into place.
Rogers took a step forward.
Then another.
His movements were controlled. Not smooth—but intentional.
He thrust the scepter outward.
A wave of emerald energy exploded toward them.
Richard reacted instantly.
Gravity Control.
The invisible force field bent the trajectory of the energy blast upward. It tore through the ceiling instead, punching a vertical shaft toward higher floors.
Concrete rained down.
Rogers charged.
Shield first.
The distance closed in seconds.
Richard did not retreat.
He stepped forward.
Dimensional Slash.
This time he did not use the enhanced variant. A standard crescent tear in space formed and cut diagonally across Rogers' path.
The zombie Captain America twisted mid-charge, shield angling perfectly.
The spatial blade struck vibranium.
The force pushed him backward several meters but did not bisect him.
He landed in a crouch.
Then he looked up.
The Mind Stone flared brighter.
Natasha felt it next—pressure behind her eyes, like invisible fingers probing.
"Psychic interference," she muttered.
Richard expanded his own telepathy defensively, shielding the three of them.
The Mind Stone pushed again.
This time, Richard pushed back.
Alpha-level telepathy met Infinity Stone output head-on.
For a split second, the chamber filled with invisible pressure. Dust vibrated in the air. Light fixtures flickered violently.
Rogers snarled.
The sound was not purely animal.
There was frustration in it.
Richard narrowed his eyes.
So the Stone is stabilizing him.
Not fully restoring him—but enough to create something more dangerous than a typical zombie.
The scepter swung.
Richard moved.
Super Speed.
He vanished from Rogers' direct line of sight and reappeared at his flank.
The Yama Sword descended.
Rogers pivoted again—shield intercepting with mechanical precision.
This was no longer instinct.
This was combat memory.
Richard's expression shifted subtly.
Now it was interesting.
He disengaged and floated upward slightly, hovering above ground level.
"If the Stone is holding you together," he said calmly, "then I'll remove the Stone."
Rogers responded by launching forward again.
Richard's eyes glowed faintly red.
Heat Vision.
The beam struck the scepter directly.
The emerald glow clashed with crimson light.
The chamber filled with hissing energy.
Rogers resisted.
For three seconds.
Then the scepter cracked.
A fracture split along its shaft.
The Mind Stone flickered violently.
Richard intensified the beam.
The metal housing ruptured.
The green gem shot free from the broken scepter, spinning across the chamber.
Before it could hit the floor, Richard extended his hand.
Magnetic field manipulation halted it midair.
Rogers froze.
For the first time since they arrived, his movements faltered completely.
Without the Stone's influence, the residual rationality evaporated instantly.
His eyes lost focus.
His body sagged.
Then he lunged blindly, reduced to pure infection.
Richard did not hesitate.
Dimensional Slash.
The crescent spatial tear passed cleanly through neck and spine.
The head separated.
The body collapsed.
Silence returned to the underground chamber.
The Mind Stone floated in front of Richard's palm, glowing steadily now that it was no longer feeding corrupted tissue.
Natasha exhaled slowly.
"That answers that," she said.
"Yes," Richard replied calmly. "It does."
.....
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