43: Repercussions 1

43: Repercussions 1

"Damn useless trash!" Johann Shmidt growled, slamming his desk with such force that the wood splintered and shattered into pieces, scattering across the dimly lit room.

His ragged breathing was the only sound in the air until, little by little, he regained his composure and let himself fall into his chair.

"Two important Hydra bases lost, along with several dozen of Zola's monsters… This plan has been an absolute failure," he said in frustration to nothingness.

"I wouldn't call it a failure," and the nothingness answered him.

From the darkest corners, where the candlelight did not reach, the shadows stirred as if something within them had awakened, projecting a distant voice, almost like a whispering echo. For a second, twisted and illogical visions assaulted Johann's mind—impossible sights that could have driven a lesser man insane. But Johann was no lesser man.

He simply closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steadying the tremor in his hands.

"With Kamar-Taj weakened, you can now tear a larger breach in their shields and bring my true self back." It was like hearing a thousand different voices speaking the same words, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Johann almost clicked his tongue in irritation, but he restrained himself. Instead, he asked the only question that mattered.

"And bringing you back guarantees me anything? The ancient texts speak a lot about you, but none are clear about your true power. I'd rather not keep wasting my time and resources on an empty, absurd myth."

As his words fell, a cold, unnatural wind flooded the room, thickening the air with an oppressive density. Before he could react, countless gray tentacles shot out from the shadows, crawling over his body and rooting him in place like thick, unbreakable chains.

Johann resisted, growling in pain and rage, but even with the strength of a super soldier, he could not escape the thick appendages that threatened to crush him. Then something cracked, and he knew that if he kept fighting, he would only risk breaking every bone in his body.

But before that could happen, everything stopped, leaving Johann seated in his chair, sweat dripping from his forehead, his crimson skin marked with countless indentations.

"There is no turning back now. Your actions have doomed you. Your enemies now ascend beyond your understanding. Without me, you are fated to die…" 

And then, silence returned. No more words were needed, because Johann knew it was true.

Even if Dr. Zola managed to complete his new serum, it would not help him protect himself from the hornet's nest he had stirred by attacking the hidden mystical forces of the world.

"I have no options left…" This was all Captain America's fault. He had forced him to this.

He had forced him to condemn them all.

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Raven opened her eyes in astonishment and quickly stood up as she saw the golden portal opening into nothingness just a few meters away from her.

But her alarm soon subsided when she saw John stepping out of the portal.

"Is that another new power?" she asked, with more calm than she actually felt upon witnessing something so incredibly strange.

But John shook his head, letting out a long sigh and giving her a weary look that instantly told her something bad had happened.

"I don't have much time to explain, but things went to hell while we were away." It wasn't surprising to John that Raven hadn't sensed all the commotion—the place he had chosen to test his new powers had been far from the base for a reason.

"If you'd like, I could help her understand."

At those words, Raven finally paid attention to the other figure that had stepped through the portal alongside John.

"And what exactly would you do?" John didn't rush to accept Clea's offer. The woman hadn't given him any reason to distrust her, but he wasn't the type to trust easily either. Added to the little he understood about sorcery, he preferred to be extremely cautious when it came to 'using' it.

"I can use a spell to share certain memories of mine with her."

"A spell?" Raven asked, confused.

"Something like telepathy? You could've used that on me and saved us a lot of talking."

John didn't exactly like the idea of someone messing with his mind, but if it was with his permission, he could allow it to some extent. In fact, if he had known all this would happen, he would have cut his entire conversation with the Ancient One short and simply let them put all the important information directly into his head, so he could have returned to the base much sooner.

"If that had been an option, I would have suggested it when we first met. But mental spells are very delicate, and your body is no longer compatible with them due to the cosmic energy that resides within you," Clea explained calmly.

John didn't know whether to be relieved or not by this information. On one hand, if what she said was true, he no longer had to worry so much about an evil sorcerer trying to brainwash him. On the other hand, if this incompatibility with mental sorcery extended to other branches of the mystical arts, then he might never be able to learn magic on his own—which absolutely sucked.

He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to go to Kamar-Taj and clear up so many things. But not right now. Right now, he had to regroup with his team and the surviving S.W.O.R.D. agents.

Recovering was the priority. But once they were back on their feet, John was going to fix the mistake he had made.

He was going to find Red Skull and kill him.

And only after that would he make time for anything else.

"So, what do you say? Want to experience a little magic?" John asked, looking at Raven. The girl met his gaze, and seeing that there wasn't even a hint of a joke in his eyes, she simply shrugged and nodded with interest.

And what if magic was real? At this point, nothing seemed impossible, so she decided to accept it and put off any potential minor existential crisis for later.

With her permission given, Clea raised one hand, causing a small mystical glyph to appear in her palm, and the spell activated.

Then Raven understood everything that had happened.

"Well… shit." With a grimace appearing on her face, she momentarily lost control of her power, causing her to return to her 'original' form while shaking her head, trying to clear the sudden disorientation that hit her.

Upon seeing her blue-skinned appearance, Clea raised an eyebrow with slight surprise, but noticing that she now seemed to be 'naked,' she quickly acted and with a wave of her hand, a simple robe appeared out of nowhere over Raven's figure, helping her cover up.

For his part, John extinguished the flames he had left burning in the area and stepped closer to Raven to check on her. Fortunately, she soon recovered and returned to her usual appearance.

"You know, I always knew I'd see incredible things by your side, but knowing that demons are real doesn't exactly make me happy." Even though she had told herself she'd postpone any existential crises for later, knowing what she knew now made that a bit harder.

"Yeah, that makes two of us," John replied with a hollow laugh. Though in truth, he had already known they were real—he just hadn't expected to have to fight them so soon.

"Let's go. We've wasted enough time here."

With his cue, Clea opened another portal—this time, directly to Warsaw.

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James was angry, very angry. Not even when he and Victor were kidnapped by Hydra had he felt such boiling rage coursing through his veins. It brought back memories, old memories, memories of when he was younger and the world was different.

For a moment, everything was a frenzy—his claws slashing and tearing apart everything in his path without mercy, blood raining down on his body as if he were in the middle of a torrential storm.

Nothing mattered, only killing.

Killing them all.

And before he realized it, that desire had been fulfilled. With ragged breathing and his mind clearing once more, James found himself standing atop a massive pile of mangled bodies, rivers of dark blood flowing from them.

His long claws, now crimson, retracted back into his knuckles, and with one last deep exhalation, a white cloud of vapor was expelled from his lungs.

Looking around, James heard nothing but wails, the cries of those who had lost their loved ones. But there were no more roars, no more gunfire.

There was no more fighting.

"Is it over…?" he wondered, watching as citizens and soldiers around him tried to help the wounded, bodies upon bodies being carried away for burial.

But then he remembered what he had seen before being thrown to the ground by the monsters and abruptly focused his gaze on the place where everything had begun.

The building was mostly charred; how it was still standing was beyond him. But what mattered was that hole—from which the monsters had been emerging one after another, as if without end.

His nose twitched, picking up the scents of Charles, Cassandra, and Erik coming from there. Had they managed to stop whatever had been happening?

He didn't catch the scent of more monsters, so that had to be the right answer. Knowing this made him relax even further, but not completely.

"I need to see how they are." With heavy steps, he descended from the small mountain of bodies and advanced toward the building blackened by the flames.

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After passing through the portal, John went straight to the three unconscious bodies laid out on the ground, beginning to examine their wounds carefully.

"This is…" Raven was left speechless. Although she already had an idea of Warsaw's state thanks to Clea's memories, seeing it in person still horrified her, confirming that everything she had seen was indeed real.

"The building is still standing thanks to some spells I placed on it, but it won't last forever. Its foundations are too damaged—it's best if we leave," Clea clarified, making John nod as he prepared to take Charles, Cassandra, and Erik to a safer place.

But before they could leave, footsteps approached, and soon James was seen rushing in through the room's scorched doorway.

"John?!" The man almost shouted in confusion. Of course, he had caught his scent while coming up, but seeing that he was actually here took him completely by surprise.

"How did you get here?" To his question, John gave him the same look he had given Raven.

"There's a lot to explain."

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"We're still counting the dead, but I don't know if we'll ever have an exact number. The flames were so intense that some bodies didn't even leave bones among their ashes," said the leader of the AK, Tadeusz Bór, his voice heavy with exhaustion and sorrow.

"I'm sorry to hear that," John said, hating himself a little for not being able to offer better comfort. Some Captain America he was.

Hearing him, Tadeusz shook his head, with no trace of reproach in his eyes.

"Don't be sorry. There was nothing you could have done. It all happened so suddenly that… forget it. Drowning in grief will only slow down what we need to do to keep moving forward. As tragic as this is, Warsaw still stands, and that's all that matters."

If an attack like this had happened in a more peaceful era, it would have undoubtedly been an unprecedented tragedy. But in the midst of war, people who were already used to death proved more resilient. They didn't stop to mourn for too long—they couldn't, not while the fight was still ongoing.

"Anyway, I have to go. We'll be bringing the building down soon, just as you suggested, so I need to make sure no civilians are nearby who could get hurt." With that, Tadeusz bid farewell and left with his men to continue supporting his people.

"You didn't tell him we're leaving." The voice wasn't accusatory, just curious. John turned to meet Erik's gaze. He was lying on a bed, several parts of his body wrapped in bandages.

On two other beds beside him, Cassandra and Charles were still unconscious.

At the moment, they were the only ones in the room. Raven and Clea had gone out to help wherever they could in the city, while James was somewhere, processing the new information he had been given with the sorceress's help.

So far, no one on his team had made too much of a fuss upon learning that the "demons" existed, which John was grateful for. He didn't need anyone having a mental breakdown right now.

He hoped everyone else would take it the same way.

"The man already has enough weight on his shoulders right now. Telling him we're leaving would only make it worse. It's better to wait for the right moment."

Of course, they were leaving. John needed to regroup, plan the counterattack, and that couldn't be done in Warsaw.

"But let's not talk about him right now. Tell me, how are you feeling?"

"Does it even matter?" Erik growled, but John easily caught the countless conflicting emotions flashing through his eyes.

"Maybe it won't change the past, but letting things out always helps a little. And as your leader, it's my duty to hear your thoughts—no matter what they are."

The boy hesitated, but upon seeing John's serious gaze, he finally clenched his fists and spat out what he felt.

"I was useless… again."

He hated it. He hated being so incapable, being the one others had to save—the burden. But above all, he hated feeling the tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

It was supposed to be different!

"Rome wasn't built in a day, kid. Your journey is just beginning. This is just a stumble—don't let it consume you."

"And what am I supposed to do? Metal is useless against those things! No matter how much I throw at them, it doesn't even hurt them! My best effort barely slows them down…"

Before, his power had seemed incredible. But now, he only wished it were different, that it gave him a real way to fight.

John almost clicked his tongue upon hearing his complaints. He tried to think of a speech that could lift his spirits, but nothing came to mind. Not for the first time, he realized how terrible he was at comforting people.

But even if he wasn't the inspiring superhero he pretended to be, what he undoubtedly was, was a man of solutions.

"Not all metal is useless against them." At his words, Erik turned his attention back to him, snapping out of his depressed state for a moment.

"Are you talking about your shield? Are you… are you thinking of giving it to me?"

"Better."

John then pulled out the vibranium bullets he had with him. Because of his condition, Erik hadn't noticed them before, but the moment they were in front of him, his power instantly recognized their connection to the metal of the shield, making his eyes widen in astonishment.

"Is this—?!"

"Vibranium bullets. It was supposed to be a surprise, but that doesn't matter anymore at this point."

Originally, John had prepared something different to give Erik, something more similar to what he would give Cassandra, but at this moment, he didn't have those things on hand. So he could only show him these bullets to lift his spirits a little and give him the 'real thing' later.

Slowly, Erik made the bullets float into his palm, feeling that familiar sensation of a metal unlike any other coursing through his senses.

His confidence, which had been fractured, slowly began to recover.

If it was with this…

If it was with this metal…

'I will never fail again.'

Seeing how the light returned to his eyes, John smiled in triumph. And what did it matter if his words couldn't lift people's spirits or restore their will to fight? As long as he could back everything up with actions, any flowery speech was useless.

'Though maybe that won't work in every case,' he thought, losing a bit of his smile as he looked at the unconscious Charles.

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