As the General Meeting commenced, I took the final step in securing my anonymity. I hired a dedicated representative to lead the company I was forming, a man who would act as my voice and my hands in the public eye.
His instructions were simple: execute my vision without question and, more importantly, act as a fortress against the outside world. He is the shield that ensures no outsider can peer into the heart of my operations or discover the man behind the curtain. While I remain in the shadows, he will be the face that navigates the boardrooms, keeping the predators at bay and the '18th Seat' a total mystery.
The meeting began not with talk of profit, but with a blueprint for a new way of life. My representative laid out the plans for the 'Four-Stack' residences, homes built atop one another to create space and dignity for every worker in Houston.
Through HBBank, we offered these homes at prices the outside world would find impossible. We weren't looking to be landlords, we were looking to build a foundation of homeowners. By ensuring our people had a stake in the land, we ensured their absolute loyalty. While the rest of the world struggled with crowded, dirty cities, the people of Houston lived in the future I had already seen, modern, clean, and entirely ours.
The second phase of the meeting introduced a concept unheard of in 1920: a city without filth. I mandated a strict hygiene code, ensuring every home had modern, private toilets and a revolutionary waste-disposal system.
We designed the city's development to handle future trash before it even became a problem. All waste was diverted to a specialized facility owned by the Howlett Company. We weren't just cleaning the streets, we were recycling. What the rest of the world saw as 'garbage,' we saw as raw materials for our next project. By controlling the waste, we controlled the health of our people and the sustainability of our resources. Houston wouldn't just be the richest town in Texas, it would be the cleanest in the world.
I ordered the construction of the Pans american Complex, a research hub disguised as a simple waste facility. Our mission was twofold: to master the art of 'Smart Sorting' and to unlock the power of Hydrogen.
While others were choking on coal smoke, we were quietly splitting water molecules to power our town. We didn't burn our trash for fuel, we harvested it for the tech of tomorrow. I knew that the ability to recycle batteries and store clean energy would be the most valuable secret on the planet. By testing these hydrogen generators now, we made Houston entirely independent of the outside world's power grid. We didn't just have a bank, we had the spark of the future, stored safely in our own vaults.
I looked at the map of the South and saw more than just land, I saw a void waiting to be filled. While Edison and Westinghouse fought over wires and currents, I was preparing to introduce the world to the true future.
We would become the primary energy provider for Texas, Louisiana, New Mexico, and beyond. We would even cross the border into Mexico, making them dependent on our clean, silent hydrogen generators. By the time the big conglomerates realized we were a threat, we wouldn't just be a town, we would be the 'Power Heart' of the continent. We weren't just selling electricity, we were selling the stability that GE and Tesla couldn't promise. We owned the water, we owned the tech, and soon, we would own the switch.
I looked at the mountain of work ahead, the energy wars, the political maneuvering, the thinning of the Hydra parasite, and for the first time, I didn't feel the weight on my shoulders alone. I felt a profound sense of gratitude.
Behind me stood the 17 Families, the public face of our strength, and behind them, the 70 Families who were the bone and sinew of this town. I wasn't just an Architect building a city, I was a father protecting a lineage. With them at my back, the 'General Meeting' wasn't just a business briefing it was a vow. We would take on the giants like Edison and Westinghouse, we would master the secrets of hydrogen and the 'Cobweb,' and we would do it together. I was ready for the war because I finally knew what I was fighting for.
The air in the room was electric as the meeting finally drew to a close. We hadn't just discussed business, we had laid out a thirty-year mission that would carry our legacy through the fire of the coming decades.
As the 17 Heads rolled up the blueprints for the 'Four-Stacks' and the Pan american Complex, there was a solemn understanding, we were playing for the long haul. While the rest of the world chased short-term profits and fleeting fame, my families were now committed to a generation of silence and self-reliance. I looked at their faces men and women who now understood that their children's children were already protected. The mission was set. The machine was in motion. And as the '18th Seat,' I could finally step away, knowing that even if I didn't return for years, the vision would never falter.
...
1939
The mud of the trenches felt familiar, but the man standing in them was different. James Howlett didn't look like a man who owned half of the South's energy grid or the most powerful bank in Texas. He looked like a soldier who had seen too much because he had.
Beside him, Victor was a force of nature, his eyes scanning the horizon for the first sign of German steel. They were at the "helm" of their unit, the tip of the spear.
I left home a year ago, leaving the Four-Stacks, the Pan american Complex, and the 88 Families in the capable hands of the Representative and Hunter. I didn't leave because I had to, I left because I knew that if I didn't stop the rot in Europe, it would eventually find its way to my daughter's doorstep.
We heard the whispers of the 'Big One.' The Germans were moving, but I wasn't just looking for Nazis. I was looking for the Hydra mark. I knew that somewhere in this chaos, a kid from Brooklyn named Steve Rogers was about to become a symbol, and I needed to be there to make sure he survived the snakes I knew were waiting for him.
The intelligence came down through the S.S.R. channels, but you had already seen it in the Cobweb weeks prior. Erskine was looking for a way out, and the Nazis, specifically the budding Hydra cells were looking for a reason to kill him.
Victor and I moved through the German night like ghosts. The commanders thought we were just the best scouts they had, but I was there for the legacy. I knew Erskine held the formula that would change the war.
Most soldiers would be terrified of the tech the Nazis were playing with, but to me, it was primitive. I'd seen the peak of human enhancement in my old life, this was just the first, messy step. I told Victor to keep his claws sharp and his mouth shut. We weren't just rescuing a scientist, we were delivering the catalyst for the next century of warfare.
Last year, Victor and I received another promotion, a direct result of our mission to pull Dr. Abraham Erskine from the clutches of the Nazis. Erskine had seen enough, he refused to let his genius be used to create another monster like the Red Skull.
He often spoke a truth that resonated deeply with me: 'The serum amplifies everything that is inside. The good become better, but the bad become worse'.
Now, as high-ranking officers within the S.S.R., Victor and I aren't just soldiers anymore, we are the gatekeepers. My mission is no longer just about the front lines, it's about ensuring that this power ends up in the hands of a man with a soul, not a predator. I've seen the 'Worse' that the future holds, and I am here to make sure the 'Better' wins this time.
Victor and I took our places in the hierarchy, but our paths were diverging. He was promoted to Second Lieutenant, and the rank suited him, he was thirsty for the action, the authority, and the blood that the front lines promised. He was excited by the promotion, seeing it as a license to be the predator he always was.
I chose a different path. I stayed a Cadet. Some thought I was stalling, but I knew better. I didn't want the headache of a high rank or the attention of the generals. Being a Cadet kept me invisible, it allowed me to move through the S.S.R. labs and the training camps without being questioned. I was there to watch the 'Snakes' and find the 'Better' man. Victor was the storm, but I was the one who decided where the lightning would strike.
After we delivered Erskine to the safety of the S.S.R., the calls for our skills came fast and heavy. One frontline bled into another, a blur of mud, gunfire, and the smell of cordite. But for the first time in years, Victor and I were given separate orders.
Victor was in his element. As a Second Lieutenant, he was sent into the heart of Nazi-occupied territory to liberate captive soldiers. He didn't just save them, he tore through the enemy like a hurricane, his 'thirst' finally finding a legitimate target.
I, however, stayed behind the scenes. I knew that the real turning point of the war wasn't on the front lines yet, it was in a secret lab in Brooklyn. I was biding my time, waiting for the moment a kid named Steve Rogers would step out of a machine and change the world. I wanted to be there for his exploits, not just as a soldier, but as the one who knew exactly what he was up against.
I moved through the heart of the enemy's territory with a speed they couldn't comprehend. They wanted to know what the hell was happening in those dark corners of Europe, and I gave them the answer: Hydra.
I didn't linger. I gathered my intel and vanished. For forty years, I had been honing this body, mastering every muscle and every heartbeat. I wasn't just fast, I was 'Captain America' fast, but with the added edge of four decades of experience. I had learned to control my internal rhythm, even directing my healing factor to prioritize specific wounds so I could keep moving without a trace. I was in and out like a ghost, leaving the S.S.R. with the information they needed and leaving Hydra wondering how their most secure vaults had been breached by a single man.
In the shadows of the European front, I was more than a soldier, I was a ghost. My mutation gave me the body, but the Seven Heavenly Breathing Techniques and my mastery of Chi turned me into the deadliest assassin walking the earth.
I moved with a silence that defied physics. With a single breath, I could slow my perception of time, seeing the trajectory of every bullet before it left the barrel. When I struck, it wasn't just bone and claw, it was Haki-infused precision that bypassed the strongest armor. I didn't need a shield, my intent was my armor, and my senses were my radar. I was 'Captain America' fast, but I was something even the S.S.R. couldn't categorize. I was the Architect of Death, cleaning the path for the heroes to follow.
I stood in the dimly lit briefing room, the smell of stale coffee and gunpowder hanging in the air. Colonel Phillips sat at the head of the table, his eyes hard and skeptical, while Dr. Erskine stood beside him, watching me with that quiet, knowing intensity of his.
I laid out my findings from the 'other side.' I gave them the maps, the movement patterns of the Hydra cells, and the terrifying truth about the Red Skull's energy weapons. I spoke with the calm of a man who had seen it all before, because I had. My Breathing Techniques kept my heart rate steady, and my Chi allowed me to feel the tension in the room.
To Phillips, I was delivering the intel that would win the war. To Erskine, I was proving that a 'Good Man' could indeed survive the darkness. I didn't tell them I had moved through those Nazi bases at superhuman speeds or that I had sensed the enemy's intent through the walls. I gave them exactly what they needed to hear to move the plan forward. I was the ghost returning from the cold, and the hunt for the Super Soldier was finally about to begin.
"How bad is it, Phillips?" Erskine asked, his eyes searching the Colonel's face for a lie he wouldn't find. He was terrified of what Johann had done with the power he had stolen.
Phillips sighed, tossing my report onto the table with a heavy thud. "It's worse than we thought, Abe. Howlett here found things that don't belong in this decade. Schmidt isn't just winning battles; he's rewriting the rules of physics with that 'Deep Science' of his. He's got weapons that turn men to ash and a cult of personality that would make the Kaiser look like an amateur".
"It's bad, Doctor," I said softly. "But Schmidt is arrogant. He thinks he's a god because he has power".
"We don't need a god to stop him. We just need a good man who knows how to hold a line." I told the doctor.
"Johann has found a source of power that defies every law of physics we know," I said, my voice cutting through the panic in the room. "The Cube is a battery with no limit, but right now, he's searching for a catalyst to stabilize the output into a weapon of mass destruction. He's not just building a bigger bomb, Colonel, he's building a way to erase cities from the map".
Phillips stared at the photographs. The clarity of the images, thanks to the lens technology I'd funneled through Stark Industries, left no room for his usual skepticism. "I thought you were spinning a ghost story, Cadet," he muttered, the color draining from his face. "But this... this is a nightmare".
The room went deathly silent. The high-resolution photographs you laid on the table, captured with specialized "Stark" cameras you'd helped Howard refine using Houston tech, were too sharp to be lies. They showed the Tesseract glowing with an otherworldly, infinite blue light.
Colonel Phillips looked at the images of the "Cube" and then at the blueprints for the massive cannons Hydra was building. His hand shook slightly as he lit a cigar, the reality of Mass Destruction sinking in.
Phillips' face was grim as he looked at the photographs. He knew the truth now: we weren't just fighting a war of territory, we were fighting a war of extinction.
"We need to bring our super soldier program to the front, Doctor", Phillips barked, his voice tight with a newfound urgency. "We will find the best men we can get. We don't have time to wait". He turned his hard gaze to me. "And James... tomorrow, you report to me at 0800 hours. Dismissed".
I snapped a crisp salute and walked out of the office. I could feel the eyes of the other officers on me, the Cadet who had done the impossible. I had become the S.S.R.'s powerhouse, the only scout who could navigate the 'Snake's' nest. The S.S.R. had sent dozens of men to find what I found, but they never heard from them again. They didn't have my forty years of honed senses or my Observation Haki. I was the only bridge between their ignorance and the terrifying reality of the future. The board was set. Tomorrow, the search for Steve Rogers begins in earnest.
My success on the field spoke for itself. Bringing back undeniable proof of Hydra's power made me the most valuable asset the S.S.R. had ever seen. I didn't mind the attention; I had prepared for this role long ago.
With my transfer to the new division came a new rank: I was promoted instantly from Cadet to 1st Lieutenant. Suddenly, everyone was calling me 'Sir.' It's a bit crazy for a man like me, someone who wants nothing to do with the spotlight, to find himself at the helm of the army's most secret project. But I know why I'm here. The rank is just a tool, a 'Black Badge' that gives me the authority to protect Erskine, manage Howard Stark's ego, and ensure that the right man steps into that machine tomorrow.
...
I woke at 0600, the silence of my quarters a sharp contrast to the chaos of the front lines. Victor and I were miles apart now, but I didn't worry about him. We were survivors, we looked after ourselves. I spent the first hour of my day in deep meditation, using the Seven Heavenly Breathing Techniques to sharpen my senses and stabilize my Chi.
I prepped my uniform, pinning the silver bars of a 1st Lieutenant to my shoulders. It still felt strange to see them there, but I understood their value. I spent the walk to my new workstation scanning the base with my Chi, feeling the heartbeats of the men around me. Most were tired, some were brave, and a few were hiding secrets I would soon tear out of them. At exactly 0800, I stepped into the briefing room. The search for the Super Soldier was no longer a theory, it was my job.
I am currently at Camp Lehigh, making my way to report for duty to Colonel Phillips. As I walk through the grounds, a constant chorus of 'Sir' follows me from the soldiers I pass. In the Army, the rank of 1st Lieutenant is more than enough to command genuine respect.
I have no desire to climb any higher. If I were to reach a superior rank, I would become too recognizable, and that is a spotlight I want to avoid. This rank is my perfect cover, it gives me the authority to move freely within the S.S.R. and the respect needed to lead, without the burden of fame that would hinder my true work. I am exactly where I need to be to ensure the '18th Seat' remains the hidden hand behind the coming age of heroes.
As I made my way toward the training field, I spotted Colonel Phillips putting the new recruits through their paces. There, in the middle of the mud and the shouting, was skinny Steve Rogers. He looked small enough for the uniform to swallow him whole, yet he was more focused than anyone else on that field.
I couldn't help but grin at him. Despite his size, he was so incredibly serious, putting every ounce of his soul into drills that would break a man twice his size. To the others, he was just a mistake by the recruitment board, but to me, he was exactly what Erskine promised. It was almost funny to watch him try so hard, knowing that soon, he would become the very thing these bullies feared most. I adjusted my cap, my 1st Lieutenant bars catching the sun, and prepared to report to the Colonel.
"1st Lieutenant James Howlett reporting for duty, Sir," I said, snapping a crisp salute.
Colonel Phillips returned the salute with a nod of professional respect. "At ease, soldier. Stay on my left, James. I've got an assignment for you once we're finished here."
"No problem, Sir," I replied, stepping into position beside him.
As I scanned the recruits, I saw him, the big-mouthed bully, Hodge. He was wiping blood from his mouth, looking more than a little frustrated. It was just like the stories: he'd tried to push his mouth where it shouldn't. I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath. Some things never change, no matter which timeline you're in. Steve might be skinny, but his spirit was already hitting harder than any heavyweight in the camp.
I glanced over at Agent Carter and caught her watching me. I offered her a small, knowing smile before turning my gaze back to the field.
Right on cue, Colonel Phillips began his monologue. "Wars are fought with weapons, but they are won by men", he barked. "We are going to win this war because we have the best..." He paused, his eyes landing on skinny Steve Rogers with a look of pure skepticism, "...men".
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing out loud. I was holding it together just to keep from making the situation more awkward than it already was.
"And of course", Phillips continued, "they are going to get better".
"Much better", I added quietly under my breath. Phillips thought he was being cynical, but I knew the truth. With Erskine's genius and Steve's heart, 'better' was going to be an understatement that would change the world forever.
"The United Strategic Scientific Reserve is made up of the best minds in the world," Phillips' voice echoed over the field. "Our goal is to create the best army in history... but every army starts with one man."
While the Colonel continued his speech and the training montage unfolded behind us, I took the opportunity to bridge the gap. I turned to the woman standing beside me, the one whose eyes hadn't left the recruits for a second.
"James Howlett," I said, my voice calm and steady as I held my hand out to her. "Agent Carter, right?"
she turned to look at me, her expression guarded but professional. I gave her that same knowing smile I'd held earlier. "You were the one who saved Dr. Erskine, weren't you?" she asked, her British accent sharp and curious as she took my hand.
"Oh? So you have access to classified reports, do you?" I asked, a hint of amusement in my voice.
Peggy didn't miss a beat. "Well, your exploits aren't exactly a secret within the S.S.R., Lieutenant," she countered, her gaze steady and sharp.
offered her a genuine smile, not out of any romantic interest, but out of pure excitement for the history we were about to make. I was ready for everything that was coming next. "It's James, Agent Carter. Just call me James."
She gave a small, professional nod, acknowledging the shift in tone. Behind us, the sounds of the training montage continued, the grunts of men and the bark of the drill sergeant, but in this small circle, the real power was being established. I looked back at the field, my Observation Haki feeling the world's gears turning. I was prepared for the chaos, the transformation, and the war. And now, I had a capable ally standing right beside me.
Colonel Phillips' monologue continued, his voice carrying across the field like a thunderclap. I stood there, motionless beside Agent Carter, not saying a word. I simply watched the recruits, watched their sweat and their struggle, while the Colonel's words painted a picture of the future.
"You will be the first of a new breed of super-soldier", Phillips declared, his eyes scanning the mud-stained faces. "And together, we will personally escort Hitler to the gates of hell".
The harsh, rhythmic shouting of the instructors cut through the humid air, providing the soundtrack to the training montage unfolding before us. "Double time! Double time! Faster! Move, move, move!" they screamed, pushing the recruits past their physical limits.
Phillips wanted speed and power, and the instructors were trying to beat it out of them. I looked at Steve struggling to keep pace but refusing to fall out and I knew the 'New Breed' was already standing right in front of us.
----
I was sitting in the jeep next to Agent Carter, personally overseeing the training of the Super Soldier candidates. I couldn't help but smile as the instructor pointed toward the tall flagpole at the end of the field.
'That flag means we are at the halfway point!' he barked. 'The first man to bring it to me gets a ride back to base with Agent Carter! Move, move, move!'
Immediately, the recruits sprinted to the pole. They scrambled over each other, trying to climb upward with brute force, slipping and sliding in the mud. Meanwhile, skinny Steve Rogers was at the back, doubled over and trying to catch his breath.
'Come on, get up there!' the instructor yelled. 'No one has gotten that flag in seventeen years! Fall back in line! Get back into formation!'
As the big men gave up and started trudging back to the line, Steve started walking toward the pole. 'Rogers, I said fall in!' the instructor snapped.
Steve ignored him. With total nonchalance, he walked to the base of the pole and pulled the pin. The entire structure groaned and crashed to the ground. Everyone watched, dumbfounded, as Steve calmly walked over, untied the flag, and handed it to the instructor.
I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard that people started glancing at me, confused by my reaction. But I couldn't help it, seeing Steve outsmart everyone while they relied on muscle was exactly the kind of 'Architect' thinking the world needed. Beside me, Agent Carter didn't say a word, but she had a small, satisfied smile on her face.
----
The next day...
The drill instructor's voice rasped across the field, dripping with sarcasm. 'Faster, ladies! My grandmother is faster than you!' he roared while the trainees struggled through their push-ups in the dirt.
Colonel Phillips had assigned me to assist Agent Carter with overseeing the training. I didn't interfere much, I preferred to let her take full command of the field. Standing a few paces behind her, I was a silent observer, my arms crossed and my 1st Lieutenant bars catching the morning sun.
"You're not really thinking of picking Rogers, are you?" Colonel philip ask doctor erskine.
"I wasn't just thinking about it, it is clear choice"
"You brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, and I let it slide. I thought, 'What the hell? Maybe he'd be useful to you, like a laboratory gerbil.' But I never thought you'd actually pick him. Look at him! He's a stick. You try to stick a needle into that kid's arm, and it's going to go right through to the other side. Look at that... he's making me cry."
Dr. Erskine: "I am looking for quality rather than physical attributes."
Colonel Phillips: "You know how long it took to set up this project? All the grumbling I had to do in front of Senator What's-his-name and his crowd?"
Dr. Erskine: "I know. I am well aware of your efforts."
Colonel Phillips: "Then throw me a bone! Hodge passed every test we gave him. He's big, he's fast, and he obeys orders. He's a soldier."
"He's a bully," Dr. Erskine noted calmly.
"You don't win wars with niceness, Doctor," Colonel Phillips retorted as he walked toward the army truck. He reached into a crate and snatched up a hand grenade. "You win wars with guts."
I watched as he pulled the pin and hurled the grenade toward the center of the training field. I noticed immediately that the Colonel didn't flinch or dive for cover. That was all the confirmation I needed, it was a dud.
" GRENADE" colonel philip is crazy man
While the other recruits screamed and scrambled for safety, pushing each other out of the way to escape the blast, one man did the opposite.
"Move! Move! Move!" the recruits screamed, scrambling away in a blind panic.
But not Steve. Without a second of hesitation, the skinny kid from Brooklyn lunged forward, throwing his entire body over the grenade to shield the very men who had been mocking him. It was a truly iconic moment.
While Steve braced for an explosion that would never come, I calmly reached into my gear, pulled out a Stark-tech camera, and snapped a high-quality photograph. The shutter click echoed in the sudden silence of the field.
Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine both turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion. I just lowered the camera and shrugged.
"What?" I asked coolly. "It's a dud. You wouldn't throw a live grenade onto your own training field, Colonel. But you would throw one to find out who has the heart to lead. And I think we just found our man."
"Get back! Get back!" Steve shouted, his voice strained as he braced for the explosion, ready to sacrifice himself for the unit.
Beside me, I could feel that Agent Carter was terrified. She was sick to her stomach with fear for Steve's life. She whipped her head around to look at Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine, searching for an explanation, only to find both of them staring at me instead.
Following their gaze, she looked at me and saw a strange-looking contraption in my hands. It was a piece of technology she'd only seen in classified SSR records, a high-end Stark camera. While the world seemed to stand still, I was calmly snapping pictures of the 'incident.'
My lack of panic told the whole story, I knew it was a dud. While they saw a tragedy, I saw an iconic moment that needed to be preserved. I lowered the camera and met Peggy's eyes with a steady look that said, "I told you he was the one", Dr. Erskine
Only a spy with the finest instincts would have the guts to stand in front of a bomb without flinching or looking scared. "Shocked" would be an understatement for Peggy. To her, James Howlett was a mysterious figure in the SSR files. All she knew was that he had fought in World War I, a war that took place before she was even born.
For a man like Logan, with his rugged beard and a constant cigar, he easily passed for someone in his forties. Because he already looked like a seasoned, older veteran, it didn't seem strange to Agent Carter that he didn't appear to age. To her, he simply looked like a man who had reached his prime and stayed there, his weathered features masking the fact that he had been alive far longer than the records suggested.
"Is this a test?" Steve asked, his voice still shaky as he looked up from the dirt.
I couldn't help but laugh at that moment. The sound of my laughter rang out across the silent field, drawing everyone's eyes toward me. I wasn't laughing at him, I was laughing at the sheer perfection of his instinct.
Colonel Phillips just shook his head in frustration, refusing to admit he was wrong. He shot one last look at Doctor Erskine and grumbled, "He's still skinny," before turning on his heel and walking away. He didn't need to say anything else; the decision had been made, whether he liked it or not.
"You did good, bub. Hahahaha! That was funny as hell," I said, unable to contain my amusement. I knew right then that this was a memory I'd hold onto, something I could bring up in the future to tease Steve once he was a legend.
I reached down and offered him my hand, firmly pulling him back up from the mud. As he stood there, still looking a bit dazed, I clapped him on the shoulder. My laughter wasn't mocking, it was the laughter of someone who had finally seen a glimmer of hope in a very long war. I looked at his messy uniform and his small, dirt-streaked face, and I knew, regardless of what the Colonel thought, that we had found the heart of the new army.
"Well, kid... they say we need a man to end this war, but it's not just about that. We need heart, too," I said, pointing directly at his chest. "You've got heart, kid. So, what do you want to do once you become a Super Soldier? Kill Nazis?"
"No, sir," Steve replied. "I just don't like bullies."
I smiled at that. "Then you're in the right place. Agent Carter here will help you achieve that... isn't that right, Agent Carter?"
Agent Carter didn't say a word, she just smirked at me.
"I'm James Howlett, kid. But in the army, people call me Logan. Just call me whatever you like."
...
As the days passed, Dr. Erskine officially selected Steve as the first candidate for the Super Soldier program. He was to be the first to undergo the augmentation process. While Agent Carter headed out to pick up Steve and escort him to the secret experiment site, I was already there.
I had been assigned the specific task of keeping watch over Dr. Erskine. Standing in the shadows of the facility, I kept my eyes on the Doctor, making sure his surroundings remained secure.
As people began arriving at the site, I saw Howard Stark in the flesh for the first time. I wasn't exactly a fan, the father and son clearly weren't that different when it came to partying and their reputation with women. I could actually smell the alcohol on him. However, it wasn't my job to criticize him, so I just kept my mouth shut and remained at my post, standing guard over Doctor Erskine.
As the preparations were underway, I kept a close watch on everyone in the room. While I was observing, I saw skinny Steve enter with Agent Peggy. I caught their eyes and smirked before returning to my stoic expression. If I were allowed to smoke in here, I would, I truly missed my cigar. I had picked up the habit when Houston started producing cigars that could rival any manufacturer in the world. We have the best of the best. As I always say, whatever business exists, we Houston brothers and sisters have a hand in it.
Then, I saw the people of power enter the room, and among them, someone caught my attention. He smelled of gunpowder, recently used. I already knew who he was, even if I didn't remember his face clearly, one doesn't always recall every minor villain from a movie, but you always remember the role they play and what is about to happen. I was certain about him, so I signaled to Agent Carter with my eyes. She lifted her eyebrows in a silent question, and I responded by rolling my eyes toward the left to point him out.
She got the signal and spotted the man. He looked completely unsuspicious, but then Agent Carter saw me pat my back pocket. She understood immediately: this man was carrying something dangerous. She wondered how I could possibly know, considering I had been down in the lab from the start.
I gave her a silent sign to wait, signaling that she should only act once the experiment began. That was exactly what she intended to do.
As everyone prepared to start, Steve was asked to enter the chamber. As he made his way onto the bed, he was given a small dose of penicillin.
"That wasn't so bad," Steve remarked.
I let out a snort, and it was so loud that both Dr. Erskine and Steve heard me.
"It was penicillin," Dr. Erskine said, maintaining a perfectly straight face.
As the chamber door closed, Dr. Erskine asked Mr. Stark to start the machine. At that moment, I truly realized how brilliant Howard Stark actually was. This was only 1943, think about how insane it is to build a Vita-Ray machine from scratch. It's like trying to build a car without even knowing what the most important parts are or how they work together.
With all the complex contraptions he had built all those wires and components, it was still madness, even with the government's resources. He truly understood the magnitude of this technology. Seeing it live right now was like a dream come true. When he finally returned home, he would make sure his own bunker was fully up and running.
As Stark channeled the Vita-Rays, the power climbed from 10% to 20%, eventually hitting 80%. That was when everyone heard Steve scream. Dr. Erskine began banging on the chamber door, frantically asking, "Steven, are you okay? Steven?" He was in a total panic.
During the chaos, Agent Carter stepped forward and shouted for them to stop the machine. Dr. Erskine signaled Mr. Stark to shut it down, but at that exact moment, I signaled Agent Carter to relax and step back. I told her to wait for my signal.
While all of this was happening, we heard Steve scream at the top of his lungs, "NO, NO... I can do this!"
Hearing that resolve, Dr. Erskine gave Mr. Stark the go-ahead to finish the process. Howard didn't hesitate; he slammed the lever all the way up, pushing the system to 100%. The roar of the machinery became deafening, and the light from the chamber grew so bright it blinded everyone in the room everyone except me.