Frank seemed downright ordinary compared to the others. An American with military service under his belt, he'd grown up steeped in the lore of Captain America. Like countless kids, he'd probably idolized Steve Rogers once upon a time.
Seeing the childhood legend standing there, looking younger than himself, stirred something deep in Frank. Steve stared out at the sea of clouds below, the cool breeze brushing his face. "Are we... in the sky?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder.
"Obviously," came the reply. Steve turned, pacing around the Base until he took in its full scope. "It's a marvel," he breathed, shaking his head in awe. "So, which country are you from?"
"None. I'm a free agent."
Steve blinked. "What? How does that work? And this flying machine..."
"I know what you're getting at. This thing's anything but ordinary, but the world you knew is gone. Things have changed. I haven't told you everything because I want you to see it for yourself. Hearing something isn't the same as experiencing it. What you witness firsthand will mean more than anything I could say."
Steve opened his mouth, grappling with the weight of those words, but the thought slipped away before he could pin it down. "Follow me," Hong Fei said.
They boarded the plane together. Hong Fei settled into the pilot's seat. "You were born in Brooklyn, right?"
"Yes. I'm a Brooklyn boy."
"Good. Then we're heading to New York."
Steve sat in the back, rubbing his hands together. "Where are we now?"
"Europe."
Hours later, Hong Fei brought Steve from the manor into New York. They walked through Brooklyn, crossed into Queens, and finally arrived in Manhattan.
Standing in Times Square, Steve's composure nearly cracked. The shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, the towering skyscrapers, the flickering screens of light and shadow—it was overwhelming. Fortunately, the world had mostly forgotten his face, and the hurried New Yorkers paid him little mind. Even if someone noticed his stunned expression, they wouldn't connect it to the face preserved in museums.
"How is it?" Hong Fei asked with a knowing smile.
Steve slowly regained his bearings. "I had no idea the world had become... this. So, I slept for nearly seventy years?"
"Technically, yes. But it wasn't sleep—it was cryostasis. Your body is still in the same state it was at 27, the age you were during the plane crash. You're still young and strong."
Steve stood frozen for a moment, then his eyes widened. "Peggy!" he blurted out suddenly. He grabbed Hong Fei's shoulders, his grip firm. "Peggy—do you know Peggy?"
"Peggy Carter? The legendary agent? Of course I know her."
At the word "legendary," Steve hesitated for a split second before pressing on. "How is she? I mean, now."
"She's... okay. Do you want to see her?"
Steve hesitated, torn. Hong Fei added gently, "Her health isn't the best..."
"Let's go," Steve said firmly.
They boarded the plane back to Europe.
In the comics, Peggy Carter was born in Virginia, but in the movies, she was British. By this point, she'd retired and returned to her homeland. Her health was still stable—she had about five years left. Hong Fei parked the car a hundred meters from a detached villa in the suburbs, and they approached on foot.
The moment they stepped out of the car, someone outside the villa noticed them. From the woods opposite, a gun was trained on them.
Steve frowned. "I have a bad feeling about this."
"Don't worry," Hong Fei reassured him. "Peggy Carter was an agent. Of course someone's looking out for her, making sure her twilight years aren't disturbed."
At the mention of "twilight years," Steve's expression darkened, his eyes clouded with sorrow.
Before they could even reach the Villa's entrance, a man in a black suit and sunglasses intercepted them. "Gentlemen," he said firmly, "this isn't a tourist spot. Keep your distance." Steve glanced at Hong Fei, who pulled out his phone. Now wasn't the time for a confrontation—backup was the smarter move. "Mr. Coulson," Hong Fei began, "do you remember me?"
The voice on the other end nearly made Coulson drop his phone. His mind raced, trying to piece together why Hong Fei would be calling him. He replied cautiously, "I hear you."
"Good," Hong Fei said. "I'm in London, outside Peggy Carter's residence. You have one minute to make the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in front of me disappear."
Coulson's expression shifted instantly. Peggy Carter—founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D., a legend in her own right. Even if he hadn't met her personally, he knew her as Captain America's closest confidante. Regardless of her identity, alarm bells rang in his head.
His tone turned serious. "Mr. Hong, what exactly are you trying to do?"
"Paying a visit to an old comrade. Is there a problem?"
Coulson hesitated. "Mr. Hong, Ms. Carter's identity..."
"I know," Hong Fei interrupted. "That's why I brought a friend. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see him."
"Hong..."
"Am I not being clear enough?"
Coulson fell silent, quickly weighing his options. After a few seconds, he relented. "Fine, I'll have them leave. But please, don't harm Ms. Carter. She's a..."
Hong Fei ended the call and turned to Steve with a smile. "It's settled. Just wait a moment." Steve nodded, his curiosity about the call overshadowed by his eagerness to see the person inside.
Seconds later, the agents began to disperse, some openly, others discreetly, until none remained. Hong Fei led Steve inside. The moment the door opened, an elderly voice called out, "I hear we have guests?" Hong Fei paused, glancing at Steve.
Steve's fists clenched, his breathing uneven, his gaze darting nervously. Hong Fei patted his shoulder and whispered, "Go on in. I'll take a walk outside." Steve nodded blankly as Hong Fei stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Outside, Hong Fei strolled around the Villa, his Psychic Power extending outward, even probing the spacious underground space beneath the building. What he found surprised him—there was no one there. Before arriving, he'd speculated that Peggy Carter's husband might be Steve from a future timeline, a theory he'd been eager to confirm. But why was the space empty? Was it just a precautionary hideout for a retired agent?
when he'd entered earlier, he'd activated his Eyes of Death and noticed countless photos of Peggy Carter—but not a single trace of another man. Yet Peggy Carter's marriage was no secret. Something didn't add up. Hands in his pockets, Hong Fei walked on, growing more puzzled by the minute.
Inside the Villa, the two former lovers, separated by decades and a vast age gap, finally reunited. Meanwhile, across the Atlantic at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Coulson stared at the newly transmitted surveillance footage, his mouth hanging open in shock.
God help him, all he wanted was to see who this supposed friend of Hong Fei's—this old acquaintance of Ms. Carter—really was. But this sight was beyond belief. Whether sacred or not, it was undeniably divine. That face—others might forget it, or let it fade into the depths of memory under the weight of daily grind and endless streams of information.
But for someone who had worshipped Captain America since childhood, who continued to idolize him after becoming an Agent, whose greatest personal hobby was collecting Captain America memorabilia, and who carried Captain America paraphernalia with him every single day—that face could be recognized even if it were reduced to ashes. Steve Rogers. It was unmistakably him.
It was Captain America, without a doubt. The physique, the build, the appearance—it was a perfect match. Sure, physique could be disguised, build could be trained, and appearance could be altered through surgery. But what about the indescribable aura, the unique gaze? No one could replicate every detail with 100% accuracy. Skrulls? They could try.
After the initial rush of excitement, only one thought remained in Coulson's mind: Good heavens. Captain America is… no, Captain America is alive! The realization sent another wave of exhilaration through him. A dead idol was tragic; a living one could set your heart ablaze.
Shaking his slightly dazed head, he forced himself to tamp down the excitement. His eyes flickered rapidly as questions began to flood his mind. "Why has he suddenly come back to life? Did he never die in the first place? Where has he been all these years? Why is he appearing now? How does Hong Fei know him? What's their relationship? Hong Fei called him a friend just now—how did they become friends? But if they really are friends, why are they going to see Ms.
Carter? What's their plan? If things escalate, do I side with Captain America or Steve Rogers…"
The questions erupted like a volcano, branching out like the roots of a massive tree—the deeper he dug, the more tangled and overwhelming they became. After a long moment, his scattered gaze finally focused, freezing on Steve's face. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and marched swiftly toward Fury's office.
Problems the underlings couldn't solve had to be handed over to the boss.