Chapter 38: The Old Popsicle Awakens
Chapter 38: The Old Popsicle Awakens
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June 10, 2010 – Golden Enterprise, New York
Edward Lin stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse, gazing down at the glittering city below. The lights of New York never ceased, the heartbeat of humanity pulsing beneath him. The glass reflected his piercing golden eyes, sharp and calculating as he processed the multitude of reports displayed on the holographic interface before him.
The world was shifting.
Since Thor's arrival, the hidden battles between SHIELD, WHA, and cosmic entities had escalated. Earth was no longer a passive planet in the grand design of the universe—it had entered the game.
And Edward had no intention of playing blind.
Expanding WHA's Influence
Over the past few days, WHA operatives had been deployed to various high-priority locations:
Norway – Tracking residual energy signatures from the Bifrost's activity.
Russia – Investigating an underground mutant research facility with alarming genetic anomalies.
South America – Uncovering traces of an old HYDRA hideout still in operation.
Outer Atmosphere Surveillance – Monitoring unknown cosmic fluctuations that had intensified since Thor's departure.
Edward exhaled slowly, his mind piecing together the bigger picture. The ripple effect of these new supernatural events had begun to manifest in unpredictable ways.
His hand hovered over his alchemic revolver, resting on his desk. The Uru-infused metal felt cool to the touch, thrumming with untapped power.
Judgment.
It wasn't just a weapon.
It was a symbol.
A symbol that Earth would not be unprepared.
The screen flickered. An incoming WHA priority transmission.
Edward answered. Evelyn Lin's face appeared, her expression neutral but her eyes carrying the weight of something important.
"We've confirmed it," she said without preamble. "Hydra are making their moves again."
Edward's grip tightened on the revolver.
The game had changed. Again.
July 5, 2010 – WHA & SHIELD Joint Task Force
In the heart of Washington, D.C., inside a heavily fortified underground base, a meeting was underway.
Seated at a long, steel conference table were some of the most powerful individuals in the world:
Nick Fury – Director of SHIELD, always one step ahead.
Phil Coulson – The steady hand, ever watchful.
Clint Barton (Hawkeye) – The sharp eye in the shadows.
Maria Hill – The iron spine of SHIELD's command.
Valeria Monroe – WHA's elite strategist, calculated and precise.
Edward Lin – The unseen force shaping Earth's silent defense.
Projected holograms hovered above the table, displaying satellite imagery of Kree reconnaissance probes, HYDRA remnants, and suspected mutant activity surges across the globe.
Fury leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "So, it's official. We're on the map."
Edward's fingers tapped lightly on the table. "We always were. They're just paying closer attention now."
Coulson adjusted his tie. "Thor's visit wasn't subtle. And neither was the Destroyer. These guys probably want to know why a god dropped by for a weekend tour."
Valeria's gaze was sharp. "The problem isn't just the Kree. It's what else they might bring."
Hill exhaled. "You think we're looking at an invasion?"
Edward spoke without hesitation. "No. But we're at the beginning of something bigger."
Fury's single eye gleamed. "Then we better be ready."
The room fell silent.
And just like that—the first steps toward something greater were set into motion.
August 2, 2010 – Tracking HYDRA's Shadows
In the depths of the Siberian wilderness, WHA operatives moved through the ruins of an abandoned HYDRA outpost, long thought to be destroyed.
They were wrong.
Beneath the ice, buried under decades of secrecy, something was still alive.
And it was waking up.
October 18, 2010 – The Cosmic Shift
Golden Aerospace, Nevada
A team of WHA scientists gathered inside the Advanced Cosmic Observation Facility, watching as Earth's orbital monitoring systems detected an anomaly in deep space.
A pulsating rift.
One that wasn't natural.
Edward Lin, standing at the control station, observed the live readings with an unreadable expression.
He had seen these patterns before.
"Prepare a response team," he ordered. "And send the encrypted report to Fury. We're not the only ones watching this."
December 5, 2010 – The Winter Unrest
Reports surfaced from Eastern Europe—whispers of a ghost from the past.
A shadow. A name.
The Winter Soldier.
Valeria Monroe narrowed her eyes at the classified dossier before her.
Something was stirring in the underbelly of the world.
And WHA would find it before it found them.
January 12, 2011 – The Next Move
Inside a secluded mountain base, a figure clad in red and gold examined his new suit, the polished metal gleaming under the dim lights.
Tony Stark smirked. "Alright, let's test this thing."
The Mark VII prototype was complete.
And the world was about to see what it could really do.
February 1, 2011 – The Discovery in Ice
In the icy expanse of the Arctic, deep beneath layers of untouched ice, a signal pulsed—weak, ancient, and undeniably human.
A SHIELD reconnaissance team stood over the frozen silhouette encased in the ice.
"Sir," one agent called over the comms. "I think we found him."
Fury's voice came through instantly.
"Confirm that. And get me Edward Lin."
Because if this really was who they thought it was…
The world was about to change.
Again.
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February 2, 2011 – Arctic Circle, SHIELD Recovery Site
The frozen winds of the Arctic howled over the desolate landscape, the ice stretching endlessly in all directions. A team of SHIELD operatives, clad in insulated tactical gear, worked with precision, their breaths forming clouds in the subzero air.
At the heart of their operation lay a massive ice excavation site, illuminated by bright floodlights and the blinking instruments of high-tech scanning equipment.
And deep beneath the ice—something was waiting.
Or rather, someone.
A silhouette.
A man, encased in solid ice, his form preserved with almost supernatural clarity.
The tattered remains of an old American flag emblem still clung to his uniform. A shield, scratched and battle-worn, lay frozen beside him.
Phil Coulson adjusted his gloves, his breath slow and measured as he stood at the edge of the ice, gazing at the sight before him.
His voice crackled through the comms.
"Sir, we have visual confirmation. It's him."
Golden Tower, New York – Edward Lin's Penthouse
The cityscape of New York stretched before him, but Edward Lin's golden eyes were locked on the holographic display hovering in his office.
A real-time feed from the Arctic.
His fingers tapped rhythmically against his desk as he studied the frozen form. Steve Rogers.
The world was about to shift—again.
His encrypted comm-link to Nick Fury was already active.
"You got confirmation?" Fury's voice came through, rough but steady.
Edward nodded slightly. "It's him."
A pause.
Fury exhaled sharply. "We've been looking for this guy for over half a century. And now, he's right under our noses."
Edward's fingers stopped tapping. "And that's the problem. This changes everything."
Fury was silent for a beat before speaking. "We both know what's coming. We're gonna need him."
Edward narrowed his eyes at the screen. "Let's make sure he still wants to fight."
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February 5, 2011 – SHIELD Medical Facility, Classified Location
The sterile hum of machines filled the room, monitoring the vitals of a man out of time.
Steve Rogers lay motionless on the medical bed, wires and IVs attached to his body, carefully stabilizing him after decades in frozen stasis.
A heart monitor beeped steadily.
Then, slowly… his fingers twitched.
And then—his eyes snapped open.
For a split second, he stared at the ceiling, disoriented, confused, and utterly lost.
And then came the flood of sensations.
His breathing hitched. His heart rate spiked.
Everything felt wrong.
He shot upright, ripping off the IVs, eyes scanning his surroundings. The sterile walls. The unfamiliar technology.
This wasn't his time.
This wasn't his world.
He swung his legs over the bed, his instincts already screaming at him to move, escape, fight—
The door slid open, and a figure stepped inside.
Nick Fury.
Dressed in black, his single eye locked onto the man out of time.
"Easy there, Cap," Fury said, hands up in a placating gesture.
Steve froze at the nickname.
His pulse thundered in his ears.
And then, the memories rushed back—
The war. The mission. The crash. The ice.
The realization hit him like a sledgehammer.
He had been asleep. For a long time.
"Where am I?" he demanded, voice hoarse but firm.
Fury exhaled, stepping closer. "You're in the twenty-first century, Captain."
A long, heavy silence.
Steve's fingers curled into fists.
"…How long?"
Fury met his gaze without hesitation.
"Almost seventy years."
The room fell into absolute stillness.
The weight of time pressed down on Steve's chest.
Seventy years.
His comrades. His world. Everything he had known… was gone.
The beeping of the heart monitor quickened.
His breath came faster.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
He needed to get out.
Without another word, Steve moved.
In an instant, he was on his feet, barreling toward the door—only to be met by WHA operatives, standing at the ready.
Their leader? Valeria Monroe.
Clad in her silver armor, arms crossed, she didn't move an inch. "Stand down, Captain Rogers."
Steve's eyes snapped to her, his body already shifting into a defensive stance.
He didn't know her.
Didn't trust her.
Didn't trust any of this.
"Get out of my way," he growled.
Valeria didn't flinch. "We're not your enemy. But you need to calm down."
Steve's eyes darted around, taking in the unfamiliar uniforms, the technology, the impossibility of it all.
He had to get out.
Now.
His legs tensed, ready to make a break for it—
And then Edward Lin entered the room.
A presence unlike any other.
His golden eyes met Steve's instantly, exuding a quiet but undeniable authority.
And for the first time, Captain America hesitated.
Edward's voice was calm. Controlled. Measured.
"You just woke up in a world that left you behind."
Steve's breath was ragged. He didn't respond.
Edward stepped forward, keeping his posture open but unyielding. "You're confused. Lost. But this isn't a fight, Rogers."
Steve's jaw clenched.
Edward continued, his voice unwavering.
"The world needs you. And whether you believe it or not, you need us."
A tense silence stretched between them.
And then—Steve exhaled.
His stance relaxed, just slightly.
Edward studied him for a moment before speaking again.
"There's a lot to catch up on, Captain."
Steve's fists slowly unclenched. His heart was still racing, his thoughts still a storm—but he listened.
For the first time since waking up, he listened.
Fury, watching from the side, smirked slightly.
Maybe—just maybe—this would work.
And maybe… Captain America would finally come home.
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To Be Continued…
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