Miss Hydra [Comprehensive Anglo-American]

—she needed a name, like Tom Riddle, whom she remembered the pain she had given.

Searchlights illuminated the cabin like daylight.

As expected, they got no response.

With a calm face, Steve got up and walked to the door of the cabin. He didn't even hold a parachute. He took an optional jacket and looked like an ordinary young man.

"Cap." Natasha stopped him.

Barton handed a round blue, red and white object behind him.

- Captain America's shield.

"Although it's too late to take out the uniforms from the museum, there's still a shield." Barton scratched his chin and said.

Steve took over the familiar old guy who hadn't seen him for decades, and was silent for a while: "...Thanks."

Hawkeye smiled briefly, and then that silly smile withdrew like a fish's tail. At the moment of the task, he changed back to the serious look he had when he was negotiating in Stark Tower.

He's literally jumped planes a lot.

When he jumped and fell rapidly, the blond veteran thought so.

Same speed, same urgency, and same urgency.

With a buzzing sound of "Dang!", the vibrating gold shield that fell to the ground at the same time as the body hit the ground, leaving two deep pits of different sizes together.

The slightly dilapidated hut was silent.

Black Widow and Hawkeye followed, and the rest of the team surrounded them with neatly armed guns.

"There is no one inside." The team that approached first reported.

"Stark's location is still in the room." The red-haired agent glanced at the tracker on his wrist, and frowned, "You stay outside."

The red, blue and white shields were the first to smash through the door.

At the moment, no one pays attention to trespassing on private houses.

In an empty room, the interior is extremely brightly illuminated by searchlights from outside. The cover of the small sofa has been ripped open, and there are still folds on the cushions. The pot of hot tea on the coffee table is still steaming. The two small cups next to it didn't even have a drop of water, they were impossibly clean.

——All clues have been cleaned up empty.

……

……Do not.

The red-haired agent with the gun held flat did not put down the weapon, her gray-green eyes swept every corner fiercely and precisely.

On the incomplete piece of wooden floor behind the sofa, the black heel stepped lightly, with a hook and a lift, the passageway hidden underneath was exposed along with the raised dust.

"Below?" Barton frowned. This situation is not suitable for him to display his abilities. Bows and arrows are long-range weapons after all.

"No..." Natasha narrowed her eyes.

Steve jumped down first after observing the circle.

This is like a cellar used by farmers to store crops in summer. It is cool and dark, and the light from the upper floor cannot shine here, so the only blue light is particularly obvious.

There was no one in the cellar, and Steve climbed up with the only harvest.

"Occamy?" Barton stared at the shabby parchment and read out the faintly glowing blue words.

The text seemed to be written with special luminescent ink.

"What? Two-legged snakes? Snakes & birds? I've only heard of four-legged snakes."

"There's something on the back." Natasha reminded them.

Steve turned the parchment over, and on it was a small stamp that looked like a large feathered snake with wings and claws.

There is also a small tracker attached to the paw.

Patton had a bitter face: "Hmm... eagle snake? Clawed snake? Feathered snake sounds better."

"...Why is this your focus?" Natasha rolled her eyes weakly.

She took the piece of paper from the silent Steve, and tore off the tracker that had been thrown at Enoch before: "They left early... so fast."

"So this is a provocation?" Without an enemy, Barton began to complain again, "By the way, why would Hydra leave a mark? And does this feathered snake have anything to do with them?"

Natasha didn't bother to pay attention to Barton's nonsense, and explained to the earphones that there was nothing wrong with the agents outside.

Then other people came in to take pictures to collect evidence and record.

Only Steve frowned at the shredded parchment, and looked back at the cellar with a puzzled expression.

……

Ollivander stood in the cool cellar, slightly hooking the corners of his lips.

The hanging fingertips were stained with a little blue ink.

Behind her, in a small space, the five black-clothed Hydras were originally ready to attack, but now they looked at each other, not knowing how to react.

Enoch's tall body stood close to her side, careful not to get too close, from the moment Steve entered the cellar, he stared at the blond man patrolling around.

It wasn't until he flipped out without realizing it, and replaced the other agents to investigate and take pictures, that he let go of the arrow in his hand: "The materials the master needs..."

What responded to him was the girl's raised slender fingers.

Above the palms in the posture of palms up and casually held up, driven by the wind or as if weightless, a handful of soft short golden hair fluttered up and down with the magic power.

"The genes of super soldiers are always worth studying." Ollivander flipped his wrist, and took back Steve's hair that he didn't know when he collected in his hand, "I remember that 20 years ago, Alan should have a bag serum?"

……

It's night, the Smithsonian.

The back door of the museum was pried open quietly, and a tall figure walked in.

As the US Captain Memorial, the Smithsonian's security measures are very complete, but it is only a museum for visiting after all. Except for the "old-style" weapon exhibition area that is relatively commemorative, the monitoring of ordinary video data areas is not so strict.

Bucky wore a coat that covered the entire metal arm. The pullover blocked the entire face and brown hair in the shadow. The moonlight through the transparent roof did not illuminate his face. The whole figure was like a shadow swimming in the dark night .

He didn't touch anything, silently avoiding surveillance, and walked in every blind corner.

On the wall, a huge bust of Captain America wears a half-mask with a blue "A" letter, and its blue eyes are bright and firm at night.

A little further away is the group portrait of the Roaring Commandos and their leader, Steve Rogers.

A black youth with a shiny helmet, a bearded youth wearing a flat felt hat, a young man with a small wool cap... All young people stand on both sides of Captain America in a blue uniform and a blue helmet, with the huge Stars and Stripes as the background Spread out the whole screen.

There are three on the left and three on the left, and the only young man in this picture who is not wearing a hat...

"..."

Bucky stiffened, revealing an uneasy silence.

The first man on the left side of the US team has short hair, revealing the full forehead and eyebrows, his lips are pursed, and his eyes are as upright and determined as everyone on the screen.

This young man, who looked like a soldier of the Roaring Commando, had exactly the same face as himself.

How ridiculous.

As long as he thought that that person might be him in the past, he felt extremely... unacceptable for the current self.

In front of the portrait, seven plastic mannequins in Roaring Commando uniforms, and those blank plastic faces without eyebrows, all seemed to be staring at him.

Bucky could only turn his head away subconsciously, but in the next moment, he met the acrylic introduction display board on the side.

The only piece, the only comrade who died.

Black and white text and photos representing the funeral were printed on the transparent display board, and another "he" with slightly disheveled hair looked at him with the same eyes.

"Bucky Barnes, 1917-1944."

- "...Bucky."

- "You're Bucky."

—Ollivander's scars on her neck are shocking, but she is still saying: "James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant Barnes. From Brooklyn. Captain America's most loyal brother."

The words of the girl with peacock blue eyes surfaced little by little, and gradually overlapped with the words on the display board in front of her.

"The story of Captain America is a story of honor, bravery, and sacrifice."

"Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were childhood friends and were inseparable, on campus and on the battlefield. Barnes was the only Roaring Commando who died for his country .”

That was...his past.

He has no impression of it...

……

"Is there really no impression?"

Suddenly there came a gentle voice, with a Scottish accent, like a sudden warming in the cold night.

Bucky turned around suddenly at that moment, his attack posture was as natural as he had done thousands of times, his metal arm moved flexibly under his sleeve: "Who?"

But the next moment, the empty hall quickly made him understand that the voice just now really appeared in his brain.

Hallucination?Ability?

"Mutant, to be precise." The man's voice sounded in his head again.

He sounded very young, but his tone was calm and wise, calmly comforting him: "I'm sorry, it seems to scare you."

"..." Bucky didn't reply.

He realized that even though he didn't speak just now, the man answered him in his mind.

"Yes, this is my little ability, I hope you don't get angry because of it." The voice in your head said, "Let me introduce myself, I am Charles Xavier, students generally call me Professor X, Wiki should communicate with you mentioned me."

It took Bucky a moment to realize he was talking about Victoria Ollivander.

——A teacher of mine once told me that memory is something that belongs to the soul, and no amount of powerful spells can really change a person's soul.

Is this the teacher Ollivander said?The "greatest white wizard in history"?

Isn't he a mutant?

"No, I'm not that teacher of Vicky, em... To be precise, Vicky doesn't know me now." Charles smiled brightly, "This is a complicated story, but I have known her for a long time, and I know her well. You will come - of course you will come, it is an inevitable event that will happen in the future."

"..." Bucky remained silent, his defenses relaxed, and he finally spoke, "You can help me retrieve my memory and my... sins."

Bucky frowned. He didn't actually have a strong sense of guilt at the moment, or other emotions like guilt, but it was almost subconscious. He used the word that the fortune teller he met back then, sin.

In the brain, there was no response for a long time this time.

After a long time, Charles sighed, his tone was like an old and tolerant elder, and said softly: "That's not your fault."

"Come see me at Xavier Academy for Gifted Youth in Westchester and we'll help you."

"That's what Wikipedia has always wanted."

……

Westchester mansion.

Xavier Institute for Gifted Youth.

Sitting in a wheelchair, Charles withdrew his fingers on his temples.

He opened his eyes.

The blue in those eyes is like the cleanest sky when the rain is over and the morning is about to dawn.

"welcome back."

He said.

"Feathered snake."

The author has something to say: ProfessorX: Surprise or not?Accident or not?

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