THE COLD STEEL OF THE OPPERATING
table bit into Verinah Novikova’s skin as she lay motionless, her mind adrift in a haze of pain and confusion. The dimly lit room was filled with the hum of machines, the steady beeping of monitors, and the muffled voices of Hydra scientists discussing their latest "project." She was just a number to them, a subject in a long line of broken souls molded into weapons.

In the far corner, a man sat restrained, his metal arm gleaming under the harsh light. James Barnes, once a hero, now a weapon, watched in silent agony as they prepared to tear another life apart, just as they had done to him. His memories were fragments, torn apart and stitched together by Hydra’s relentless conditioning. He barely knew who he was anymore, only that the little girl before him was about to endure the same torment that had become his existence.

Verinah had been in Hydra’s clutches for as long as she could remember, which couldn't have been that long because she was 7. Her early years were a blur, though, overshadowed by the relentless cycle of experimentation, pain, and psychological manipulation. They had erased her past, leaving her with only the present, a never-ending nightmare of needles, drugs, and mind-numbing agony. They were creating something new in her, something powerful, but in the process, they were stripping away her humanity.

The room was a bleak, sterile place, one of many Hydra laboratories hidden from the world, where horrors were committed in the name of twisted science. The walls were lined with cabinets filled with vials of unknown substances, and the scent of antiseptic hung in the air, mixed with the faint, metallic tang of blood. This was a place where hope went to die, where the human spirit was crushed and reshaped into something unrecognizable.

The Winter Soliders presence was both a comfort and a curse. She saw in him a reflection of her own suffering, a warning of what she would become if she could not escape Hydra’s grasp. Yet, there was something else, an unspoken bond formed in the crucible of shared pain. He understood her suffering in a way no one else could. He had been there, on that very table, with those same needles piercing his flesh, with the same serum turning his body into a weapon. And now, he was forced to watch it happen to her, powerless to stop it. He just kept to himself cold and distant looking.

The scientists began their work, speaking in clinical tones as if discussing nothing more than a routine procedure. They moved with the detached efficiency of those who had long ago abandoned their humanity. Verinah’s heart pounded in her chest as the machines whirred to life, and the sharp sting of the needle pierced her skin. She felt the cold serum flooding her veins, burning through her body as if setting her very soul on fire. Her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into darkness.

But even as consciousness slipped away, she clung to one thought that she was not alone. He was there, asilent witness to her torment. And in that, there was a small flicker of hope, buried deep beneath the layers of conditioning and pain.

Her body convulsed as the serum took hold, a violent reaction that had the scientists exchanging hurried glances. They monitored her vitals with cold detachment, noting each spasm, each labored breath, with the same interest one might have for an experiment in a petri dish. Verinah's mind, however, was not their concern. Her thoughts fractured under the strain, torn between the excruciating pain and the distant memories she could barely grasp.

There were flashes of a life before Hydra, a time when she had a name, a family, and dreams that had nothing to do with survival. She could almost hear the laughter of her mother as she played in a sunlit field, calling her name with a voice full of love.  But as quickly as the memory surfaced, it was ripped away, swallowed by the darkness that Hydra had forced upon her. She began to hear the bullet go through her mother's head over and over. Oh, how she wished she would've done something to save her mom.

Bucky watched her struggle, his own memories swirling in the back of his mind like a relentless storm. He saw her pain, and it mirrored his own, a reflection of the countless times he had been on that same table, enduring the same procedures. Each time, a piece of him had been lost, buried beneath the weight of Hydra’s programming. But in Verinah, he saw a spark of resistance that he hadn’t felt in years. She was fighting, even in the depths of her suffering, and that fight stirred something deep within him, a part of himself that he thought had been completely extinguished.

He remembered the screams, his own, echoing through the cold corridors of Hydra’s facilities, as they tore his mind apart again and again. He remembered the moments of clarity, the fleeting seconds where he had grasped at the shreds of his identity, only to have them snatched away as Hydra reprogrammed him, twisting his will to match their needs. It was in those moments of clarity that he had seen others like Verinah young, broken, and terrified, their lives snuffed out before they had even begun.

But Verinah was different. She reminded him of the boy he used to be, the one who would have fought with every breath to protect those he loved. It was a distant memory, one that felt more like a dream than reality, but it was there. She was a reminder of the humanity he had lost, and in her eyes, he saw a reflection of the man he used to be—the man he could still be, if only he could find the strength to break free.

The serum coursing through Verinah’s veins was Hydra’s latest attempt at creating something more, a soldier, an assassin, a weapon that could be controlled with the press of a button. They had perfected the art of breaking the human mind, but they hadn’t anticipated the resilience that came with it. Verinah’s mind was strong, stronger than they realized, and in the depths of her suffering, she found a resolve she hadn’t known she possessed.

As the serum took hold, her body began to change. Muscles tore and reformed, bones strengthened, and her senses sharpened to a degree that was almost unbearable. She felt every needle, every incision, with a clarity that made her wish for the darkness to take her completely. But it didn’t. She stayed conscious, tethered to the world by the presence of the man in the corner, whose eyes never left her.

James' mind raced as he watched her transformation. He knew what was coming next, the conditioning, the programming that would strip away whatever remained of Verinah’s humanity, replacing it with Hydra’s will. He had been through it himself, countless times, each session leaving him more lost, more detached from the man he once was. But as he watched her fight, he realized that there might still be a chance, a chance to save her, and perhaps, in doing so, save himself.

The scientists continued their work, oblivious to the silent war waging in the minds of their subjects. To them, Verinah was just another asset, another step towards creating the perfect soldier. They spoke in hushed tones, debating the merits of their work, the potential applications of the serum. None of them saw the tears that streaked down her cheeks, or the way her small hands clenched into fists as she fought against the pain.

James' thoughts were a chaotic mess of anger, sorrow, and determination. He had spent years trapped in Hydra’s grasp, his will bent to their needs, his identity stripped away piece by piece. But as he watched Verinah, he felt something stir deep within him, an anger that hadn’t surfaced in years, an anger that was slowly burning away the layers of Hydra’s conditioning.

He couldn’t save her from the table, not now, not while he was restrained and weakened. But there was a promise he made to himself, a vow that he would find a way to escape, to take her with him, and to destroy Hydra once and for all. The thought of escape was almost laughable, a fleeting dream in the face of Hydra’s overwhelming power, but it was a dream he clung to with all his might. It was all he had left.

Verinah’s screams finally subsided, her body going limp as the serum completed its work. The scientists took note of her vitals, nodding in satisfaction as they prepared her for the next phase. They had no idea of the thoughts running through her mind, of the silent vow she had made as the darkness claimed her. She would survive. She would endure. And one day, she would make them pay for every ounce of pain they had inflicted on her, on the man in the corner who she barely knew, on her mom, and on the countless others who had suffered in Hydra’s name.

As the lights dimmed and the machines powered down, the room fell silent. Verinah lay motionless on the table, her mind drifting in and out of consciousness. James watched her, his heart heavy with the knowledge of what was to come. But even in the depths of his despair, there was a flicker of hope, hope that they could still fight back, still find a way to break free from the chains that bound them.

For now, all they had was each other. But that was enough. It had to be. The war was far from over, and the battle for their souls had just begun.