The book hit the floor in the back room with a dull thud.
Silence followed.
Not ordinary silence.
The kind where every instinct in the room suddenly became sharp enough to draw blood.
Johann Schmidt did not move immediately.
That alone told Elias everything he needed to know.
Normal men reacted.
Dangerous men calculated first.
The tall German merely tilted his head slightly toward the curtain separating the storefront from the back room. His pale eyes narrowed—not suspicious, not alarmed.
Interested.
Elias kept his breathing steady.
Inside, however, his thoughts accelerated rapidly.
Johann Schmidt.
Not Red Skull yet.
Not fully.
Which meant several things simultaneously.
First: Hydra already existed in its early hidden form.
Second: Schmidt was already searching for abnormal sciences and mystical paths long before the Super Soldier Serum.
And third—
The timeline had begun moving earlier than expected.
Much earlier.
Elias maintained a calm smile behind the counter. "Nephew," he called casually. "If you're going to eavesdrop, at least stop dropping books."
A few seconds later, Steve stepped out awkwardly carrying a stack of old hardcovers against his chest.
"Sorry."
Schmidt studied him briefly.
Not long enough to appear threatening.
Long enough to evaluate.
Steve shifted uncomfortably beneath the man's gaze.
Good.
That meant his instincts worked.
Elias spoke before the silence could deepen.
"My nephew helps around the shop after school."
"Mm."
Schmidt returned his attention toward Elias.
"Family businesses are becoming rare."
"Family is cheaper than employees."
A faint smile touched Schmidt's lips.
Not warm.
Never warm.
The kind of smile a wolf might wear before deciding whether something was edible.
"I imagine loyalty matters greatly to you, Mr. Rogers."
"It should matter to everyone."
Something flickered behind Schmidt's eyes at that answer.
For the briefest moment, Elias sensed it—
A strange spiritual distortion.
Thin.
Twisted.
Like rotten ambition soaked into flesh.
His Sequence 7 spirituality reacted instinctively.
This man was already abnormal.
Not a Beyonder.
Something else.
Perhaps early experimentation.
Perhaps exposure to mystical artifacts.
Perhaps simply the shape of his soul.
Either way, Elias immediately understood one terrifying truth:
Johann Schmidt was spiritually compatible with corruption.
Dangerously compatible.
That explained far too much about the future.
Elias walked calmly toward one of the shelves and retrieved several old journals bound in cracked leather.
"German medical publications," he said while placing them down. "Though I doubt they contain anything revolutionary."
Schmidt opened one carefully.
His movements were precise.
Disciplined.
Military.
Elias noticed old scars near the wrist partially hidden beneath his gloves.
Not battlefield scars.
Punishment scars.
Interesting.
"You read German?" Schmidt asked without looking up.
"A little."
"Most Americans dislike learning foreign languages."
"Most Americans dislike many useful things."
That earned another small smile.
Steve quietly moved beside the counter, pretending to organize books while secretly listening.
Elias resisted the urge to throw him back into the basement.
The boy was curious to a suicidal degree.
Schmidt flipped through several pages before speaking again.
"You have an unusual shop."
"Old books usually are."
"No." Schmidt finally looked up directly. "I meant the atmosphere."
Elias felt the temperature in the room drop by half a degree.
Not literally.
Spiritually.
His instincts screamed caution.
Schmidt noticed something.
Not fully.
But enough.
Sequence pathways sharpened spirituality over time. Elias had grown used to subtle changes in perception, hidden emotions, distorted intentions.
If Schmidt possessed even partial mystical sensitivity…
This conversation had become significantly more dangerous.
Elias leaned casually against the shelf.
"And what kind of atmosphere does my shop have?"
Schmidt considered him silently.
Then:
"The feeling that someone here is hiding intelligence behind mediocrity."
Steve blinked.
Elias laughed softly.
"That sounds less like a bookstore and more like an insult."
"Perhaps."
The German closed the journal carefully.
"But history often changes because of men pretending to be smaller than they are."
Their eyes met.
The room became still again.
Elias understood perfectly now.
This was not coincidence.
Schmidt was probing him.
Not because he knew anything concrete.
Because predators recognized predators.
And unfortunately for humanity, Johann Schmidt was an exceptional predator.
Steve suddenly spoke.
"You talk weird."
Elias nearly closed his eyes in pain.
Schmidt slowly turned toward the boy.
Steve crossed his arms defensively despite being half the man's size.
"You sound like movie villains."
There was a dangerous pause.
Then—
Schmidt laughed.
Not loudly.
But genuinely.
That disturbed Elias more than if the man had become angry.
"Movie villains?" Schmidt repeated.
Steve nodded. "Yeah. All mysterious and creepy."
Elias quickly intervened.
"My nephew lacks survival instincts."
"I noticed."
But Schmidt no longer seemed focused on Steve.
Instead, something stranger surfaced in his gaze.
Interest.
Not in Steve Rogers specifically.
In the dynamic.
In Elias.
The German tapped one finger lightly against the medical journal.
"You teach him confidence."
"I teach him to think."
"Rare." Schmidt's eyes sharpened slightly. "The world prefers obedient men."
"And what do you prefer?"
Schmidt stood slowly, placing the book back onto the counter.
"The world is not shaped by preference, Mr. Rogers."
For one terrifying instant, Elias felt something monstrous hidden beneath the man's calm exterior.
A hunger.
Not for food.
For superiority.
For transcendence.
For power great enough to place humanity beneath his feet forever.
Then it vanished beneath the polite mask once more.
Schmidt placed several bills on the counter.
"I will take these."
Elias accepted the money calmly.
Their fingers brushed for less than a second.
The moment contact occurred—
A vision exploded across Elias' mind.
Blood-red banners.
Black uniforms.
Ancient symbols.
A cube radiating blue cosmic light.
Screaming.
Mountains of corpses.
And Johann Schmidt standing above them all with a skull-like crimson face, staring toward the heavens like a man trying to challenge God Himself.
The vision vanished instantly.
Elias nearly lost control of his expression.
Sequence 7 intuition.
Spiritual contact.
Damn it.
Schmidt noticed the slight pause.
"…Something wrong?"
Elias forced himself calm immediately.
"No."
A lie.
A very dangerous lie.
Because now he understood another horrifying truth.
The Tesseract was already calling to Schmidt.
Even before discovery.
Even before Hydra's full rise.
The corruption of ambition had begun years earlier.
Schmidt took the wrapped journals and placed his hat back on.
As he reached the door, he paused.
Without turning around, he spoke quietly.
"Tell me, Mr. Rogers…"
Elias' spirituality tightened.
"Do you believe humanity was meant to remain weak?"
The question lingered in the air.
Steve frowned, confused.
Elias answered carefully.
"I believe men who obsess over strength usually fear weakness more than anyone else."
The room went silent.
Then Schmidt chuckled softly.
"A fascinating answer."
The bell above the door rang as he stepped outside into the snowy Brooklyn street.
And just like that—
Johann Schmidt disappeared into the night.
Steve immediately rushed toward the window.
"That guy was creepy."
"Yes."
"Was he dangerous?"
Elias stared toward the door long after Schmidt vanished.
"…Very."
Steve looked concerned now.
"Should we call the cops or something?"
Elias almost laughed.
No police force on Earth could stop what that man would eventually become.
"No," Elias said quietly. "Not yet."
Steve hesitated.
"Why was he looking at you like that?"
Because he sensed something abnormal.
Because monsters recognized each other.
Because fate had just walked through the front door.
But Elias only sighed and rubbed his forehead.
"Go lock the back room."
Steve instantly noticed the seriousness in his tone and obeyed without arguing.
The moment the curtain closed, Elias' calm expression vanished completely.
He immediately pulled a folded paper figure from beneath his sleeve and ignited it with a snap of his fingers.
The paper burned green.
Divination warning.
Threat level: significant.
Elias' eyes darkened.
This was bad.
Far worse than he expected.
Hydra's roots were already spreading through America years before Captain America's birth.
And if Schmidt was actively searching for abnormal sciences in 1923…
Then there was a real possibility Hydra had already encountered occult phenomena.
Marvel's mystical side and the Beyonder pathways might already be intertwining beneath history itself.
That could create catastrophes beyond canon.
Elias walked toward the hidden ritual room beneath the shop.
Tonight, he needed answers.
And there was only one place left to seek them.
The gray fog.
Far above reality—
Beyond spirit and matter—
A pair of ancient eyes slowly opened within endless mist.