Chapter 117 – Awakening the Six Winter Soldiers
The long-frozen base doors began to open at a sluggish pace.
The internal power mechanisms needed time to transmit kinetic energy.
Seeing Allen hunched over from the cold, Natasha couldn't bear it and advised, "You still have time to head back to the jet and get dressed."
"I'm not cold at all."
Even as he said this, Allen's teeth chattered uncontrollably. Ice crystals had formed on his hair and eyelashes.
"If you're not cold, take your hands out of your pockets."
Psylocke piped up, seizing the chance to tease him.
"I'm keeping my ex and my current girlfriend from catching cold. I'm using them to warm up my heat rods."
Allen said it with a straight face, even though what he was doing was anything but decent.
Forget it—there's no reasoning with a lunatic. Besides, he's the one freezing, not them.
Soon enough, the base doors slowly lifted open.
The long-sealed Winter Soldier facility once again saw the light of day.
"To think that what was once a key Soviet project was actually under Hydra's control all along," Natasha remarked with a touch of awe.
There were times when Black Widow agents were deployed on missions alongside Winter Soldiers.
Naturally, Natasha had encountered them before and thought of them as emotionless killing machines.
The first thing they did was locate the power source for the lights.
Inside the massive base, it was pitch black.
To enable survival in this frozen environment, the structure had to be heavily fortified and sealed, leaving no room for natural lighting.
Once the lights powered on, the layout of the base came fully into view.
It was just a straightforward super soldier research facility—no need for massive infrastructure. It wasn't a nuclear lab requiring multiple defense layers to prevent leaks.
Following the blueprint, they headed straight for the stasis chamber.
They soon arrived at a room with six cryo-pods.
A faint glow from within the pods indicated that the life-support systems for the Winter Soldiers were still functioning.
Wiping the dust off the glass, they could clearly see each Winter Soldier inside, a thin layer of frost covering their bodies.
"Only six?" Natasha asked in confusion.
She remembered there being far more of them. They often deployed in large numbers—twenty or thirty at a time—for high-risk assaults, greatly reducing Black Widow casualties.
"When Hydra retreated, they purged all the defective ones and only preserved the six strongest Winter Soldiers. In fact, it was these six who executed the others."
Allen recalled that during the early Cold War, the Winter Soldiers had been active. But once Hydra went fully underground, any projects that risked exposure were shut down.
Later, in the 21st century, Baron Zemo awakened Bucky and killed the other five Winter Soldiers.
A real shame.
Allen knew very well how terrifying those five had been—strong enough to topple a small nation in a single night.
Their individual combat prowess rivaled that of Captain America.
He initiated the defrosting sequence.
Warm vapor began pouring into the pods, beginning the process of thawing the Winter Soldiers' bodies.
"How long will the defrost take?" Allen asked, breath fogging the air. "At this rate, I'm going to freeze to death before it's done."
"Half an hour," Natasha replied, reading from a Russian manual on the device.
"Half an hour? I don't want to stay stiff for that long."
Realizing he'd slipped up, Allen quickly straightened his face and walked over to Psylocke. "Your energy sword has some flaws. Let me study it."
"If you need heat, just say so. Beg, and I might help you," Psylocke sneered.
Thud!
Allen dropped to his knees on the spot, clinging to her leg and begging, "I'm begging you, please!"
"…"
That was... unexpected. She hadn't anticipated such shamelessness.
Psylocke had only meant to mess with him a little. She didn't think he'd literally grovel. A simple verbal plea would've been enough.
In an instant, a purple lightsaber formed in Psylocke's left hand.
Allen happily crouched beside it, basking in its radiant warmth and singing her praises. "Little Butterfly, you're amazing. Little Butterfly, you're the best. Little Butterfly, mwah~"
"Say one more gross thing and I'll turn it off," Psylocke snapped in disgust.
"Come on, it's just a compliment. Don't be shy."
Now that he was warm again, Allen was back to his usual eccentric, obnoxious self.
From someone like him, even praise sounded like an insult.
"Hey, Little Butterfly, can you change how it looks?" Allen asked curiously.
"I can. I won't," Psylocke replied flatly.
Her power was to manipulate concentrated energy, so of course she could alter its form. But she preferred the sword shape—it was practical and easier to control.
"Change it, pleeease? Pretty please? With sugar on top? I'm begging you~"
Allen unleashed a four-part whiny plea, making Psylocke's forehead veins bulge.
"You might as well give in," Natasha advised. "Back when I gave him a ride on a motorcycle, he annoyed me so much I nearly drove us into a tree."
"You two were a couple?" Psylocke's gossip radar lit up.
Something was definitely going on. To her, neither of them seemed normal. I mean, they hadn't aged.
"No," Natasha replied, explaining, "He was locked up in a Nazi prison back then, tricking the scientists into eating geckos. We Black Widows were rescuing the scientists and brought him out with us. I was in charge of extracting him."
"He was a scientist?" Psylocke asked incredulously.
He looked absolutely unhinged. The idea that he was a scientist was almost offensive to the profession.
"Believe it or not, he was. He designed the infantry rifles for both the U.S. and Soviet forces," Natasha confirmed.
Psylocke's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
You'd never guess. Never.
By now, Allen was lying on the ground in a classic Buddha pose, modestly saying, "Nat, don't make me sound so great. Honestly, my greatest talent is being a lab rat."
"…"
Psylocke pointed at Allen, seeking confirmation. "This guy… a scientist?"
"Judging by looks, I wouldn't believe it either. But he also improved the original Super Soldier Serum—made the enhancement far more stable and gave Cap a more balanced tenfold boost across all attributes," Natasha said seriously.
"…"
That was a lot to process. Psylocke needed a moment.
After Allen's relentless whining, Psylocke finally gave in and altered the energy form into something he wanted.
A portable mini heater was born.
After thirty minutes, the thawing process was complete.
The six Winter Soldiers were returning to normal. The rise and fall of their chests signaled readiness for reawakening.
"Looks like Bucky's arm really is gone," Allen said, pressing his face to the glass and examining the slumbering Bucky.
"What a coincidence, running into him again," Natasha murmured.
She had fought alongside Bucky several times. They were more than acquaintances, maybe even friends—at least as much as one could be with someone perpetually brainwashed.
He was rarely lucid, and when he was, he suffered from severe memory loss.
For a legendary spy like Natasha, getting to know someone like that wasn't difficult. So she wasn't surprised at all that Allen could call Bucky by name.
"Nat, you do the honors," Allen said, handing her a small booklet that listed the activation codes for the Winter Soldiers.
Once awakened with the code, the soldiers would identify the voice as their superior and carry out any command, no matter the cost.
"Why me?" Natasha asked in surprise.
"I don't speak Russian."