Arnim Zola

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The entire room was filled with outdated computers—old CRT monitors and massive mainframes arranged in neat rows. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, untouched for decades.

Tony and Ethan stepped cautiously toward one of the computers. Ethan grimaced and said, "I'm starting to think Kai was wrong—whatever he thought was here might not be."

He wiped the dust off the keyboard and tapped a few keys. "These things are ancient."

Tony agreed silently until he noticed something that didn't belong: a modern USB adapter sitting right next to the keyboard. In a room stuck in time, that adapter was far too new.

Suddenly remembering the USB drive Kai had given him before the mission, Tony pulled it from his pocket and plugged it in.

The massive machines roared to life. Lights blinked on, screens lit up, and nearby cameras began to swivel toward them.

A prompt appeared: **"Start the system?"**

Tony and Ethan exchanged a glance. Tony typed **YES**.

With a low hum, the system fully booted. A new message popped up: *"Shall we play a game?"*

Tony hesitated. "That's… weird."

Jarvis chimed in, "Sir, that's a reference to the film 'WarGames', released in 1983."

"That's ancient," Tony muttered.

Then the screen flickered again—and a pixelated human face appeared. Though the resolution was poor, the features were distinguishable.

"Stark! Are you Howard Stark's son?" the face asked, as the cameras focused squarely on Tony.

Tony and Ethan froze. First, surprised by the intelligence of the interface, and second, by the mention of Tony's father.

The face continued, listing Tony's date of birth and childhood memories with eerie precision.

"Is this a video?" Ethan asked, confused.

"I'm not a video," the face snapped. "Maybe I'm not the same person I used to be—but I'm still me."

A photo popped up on a side screen. Ethan turned to Tony. "You recognize him?"

Jarvis answered instead: "Arnim Zola. A German scientist who worked for the Red Skull. Officially deceased for decades."

Tony's eyes narrowed. "Then that… is Zola?"

The voice corrected, "First of all, I'm Swiss. Second, look around—I'm still alive."

Zola explained further. "In 1972, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Science couldn't save my body, but my mind? That was another matter."

"After relentless effort, I succeeded. I transferred my consciousness into this two-million-unit database. You're standing inside my mind."

Tony, now intrigued, circled the console. So this was what Kai wanted him to find.

A preserved consciousness. A primitive but real artificial intelligence. Tony couldn't wait to study it.

But there was no time to waste—they had taken long enough to find this place. The main mission was already underway, and Kai was likely in the thick of the action.

—

*S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters*

Steve held the phone, his voice steady as it rang through the building's comms:

"This is Steve Rogers. You've probably heard a lot about me lately. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down."

"But I'm here to tell you the truth. S.H.I.E.L.D. is not what you think. It's been infiltrated by Hydra. Their leader is Alexander Pierce."

In a sleek office, Pierce sat at a table surrounded by colleagues. All eyes turned to him, accusing, suspicious. He remained silent, lips pressed tightly together.

"The Special Operations Team, the Insight Program—Hydra has their claws in everything. They are right here among us."

Whispers filled the halls. Agents looked at each other with fresh doubt and fear.

"They almost got what they wanted: absolute control. Nick Fury's assassination was just the beginning."

Pierce slipped a phone from his pocket and began typing frantically.

Steve's voice pressed on.

"If those carriers launch today, Hydra will have the power to eliminate anyone who stands in their way. We have to stop them."

Across the facility, some agents hesitated. Then, slowly, they began abandoning their posts and turning their weapons—not toward the intruders, but toward their fellow operatives in Hydra's ranks.

"I know it's hard," Steve continued. "But the price of freedom is high. It always has been."

"I'm willing to pay it. Even if I stand alone. But I don't think I will."

He lowered the phone and stared at the S.H.I.E.L.D. building in the distance. A flicker of sorrow passed through his eyes—but also resolve.

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