SuperSoldier (SI-OC/MCU)

[Emma Cruzader]

Chapter 1: Lights, Camera, Action!

You know what happens with unexpected situations? You can't prepare for them. John was a man who fancied himself quite good at improvising.

So when he suddenly woke up in the bed of a cheap hotel in a body that wasn't his own, he knew that something damn wrong had happened. But he didn't panic. Sure, using someone else's body was messed up, but he could adapt.

The first thing he did was try to wake up because, while jumping to the conclusion that this was real would be the easiest, one also had to prove that they weren't just having a strange lucid dream.

So after subjecting himself to a self-torture worthy of an aspiring masochist, John could say with total certainty that this was real.

That's when the truly exciting part came: investigation. He searched the entire room. There wasn't much to find, really. Just an old suitcase that seemed to contain clothes, a leather wallet, and a pair of half-worn boots.

He decided to try the wallet.

Some old bills with a design that wasn't familiar, a crumpled brochure about an exposition or something like that, a folded white paper that looked like a letter, and an ID.

"Bingo!"

John Benjamin Vogelbaum, American citizen born in 1921.

What a strange name. Well, at least he retained some of his real name, which was a plus in his books.

Still, he couldn't help but squint at the surname. Where had he heard it before?

Without thinking too much, he tossed the ID aside and took out the second thing that had caught his attention the most: the perfectly white and folded paper resembling a letter.

He unfolded it and read what was inside.

"Hey man! Hope you're having a blast. Things got a little complicated, so you might not remember some stuff about how you got where you are, at least not at first. I can't reach out to explain it again because I've pissed off some really upset people. So, from now on, you're completely on your own. But I've held up my end of the deal. Whether you can make the most of this second chance depends on you. You're a sharp kid, so I trust you'll figure it out. Lastly, I've left you a little gift. Check your suitcase! However you use it is not my problem, so do as you please. Sincerely, your good friend, V"

John furrowed his brow. Who the hell was V? He looked at the strangely familiar symbol.

"Huh, kinda looks like the Vought logo..." The smile on his face froze, his pupils dilated, and he hastily picked up the ID again.

That face, no beard, and he looked much younger, but... it was recognizable now that he brought it to mind.

He was in the body of the damn Soldier Boy!

"Damn it!"

Okay, things weren't so bad, right? He could work with this. Get some cool superpowers and enjoy life, avoiding all the mess that was the future. Sure, waiting until it was 2024 again would suck, but technically, he'd be something like immortal? He didn't know what Compound V did to the original Soldier Boy to make him last so long, but he wanted it.

Now, he just had to figure out how the hell he got access to Compound V.

He had only watched the series once in a row so he'd forgotten some things. He hoped he wouldn't screw it up. With that big concern in mind, he remembered the mentioned gift and quickly grabbed his suitcase and put it on the bed.

Well, maybe there was something in here to help him get his superpowers.

That turned out to be more true than he expected.

When he opened the suitcase, he saw clothes as well as some common items and a military acceptance letter, which he supposed was to be expected. He was Soldier Boy! He was going to be in the military one way or another.

But what caught his attention the most was the box with the V-shaped logo inside. It was small, smaller than his palm.

He opened it and saw a glass container, a vial containing a light blue substance that almost seemed to glow. He read the name on the label.

"Compound V!" He smiled, almost wanting to jump with excitement. But like a lightning bolt striking him, his excitement vanished.

This was wrong. If he was Soldier Boy, then having access to Compound V was something he should be able to get on his own if he played his cards right. Sure, you could say this was insurance, an easy way to access power, but John felt it wasn't that simple.

Why consider this a gift if he could already get it anyway?

As if having a bad premonition, he remembered something and took out his wallet again, took the crumpled and poorly folded brochure and this time read more carefully what was written on it.

"World Exposition of Tomorrow 1943"

No, that wasn't important. What was truly important was the name of the man presenting this exhibition.

"Howard Stark..." John let the brochure fall to the floor, his body gave a brief tremor but quickly composed himself, swallowing hard and licking his suddenly dry lips.

It seemed like... things weren't going to be as easy as he imagined.

He quickly took out the military acceptance letter, reading everything written on it and focusing on the most important words.

"U.S. Army Special Scientific Testing Squadron Number 1." It wasn't a battalion, he wasn't assigned to a team or anything like that. He wasn't a soldier, so he didn't know exactly how a newly enlisted soldier got assigned, but he definitely didn't believe the words "Special Scientific Testing" were the right ones.

"Shit!"

It was at that moment that his memory, which seemed somewhat confused, began to clear up. Recent memories started to come to him, causing him to close his eyes and grab his head in pain.

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"I'm telling you, man, it's disappointing!" His voice was loud but still drowned out by the music and cheerful atmosphere of the bar.

John took what might have been his ninth or tenth shot of tequila, his face flushed, hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, and clear erratic movements made it evident that while this might be his tenth shot in this bar, it wasn't the tenth he'd had today.

"Really? I thought it was pretty inspiring, you know, with all those stars and stripes, the ultimate super soldier."

John shook his head at the words of his newly acquainted good friend.

He slapped his back and, in his drunken state, began to blabber nonsensical nonsense.

"You know who's a real super soldier? Soldier Boy! Bulletproof, super strength, and freaking crazy as every World War II soldier should be!"

His friend looked at him as if he were stupid.

"The racist? Seriously?"

John pondered.

"Well, maybe minus that part"

He took another sip of his beer and continued his talk.

"But you know, man, I'm sure even I'd be better. Just give me that damn shield, a real super soldier serum, and I'd kick all the bad guys' butts into oblivion"


Of course, deep down, John knew he was just talking nonsense. In reality, he liked Cap. Well, he had liked him until he saw that Civil War movie. John wasn't someone with a lot of free time; he had been working himself to the bone for the past few years, so he had been out of touch with the world's trends until he decided to catch up when he finally managed to get his long-postponed paid vacation.

First, he watched some great series like The Boys, and then he decided to give those Marvel movies a chance since his mother had bought him some Marvel comics when he was young, and he remembered quite enjoying reading them.

He had gotten as far as the so-called Civil War, and well, he had also broken up with his girlfriend the day before, so he needed something to curse while he drank away his sorrows. Cap was a pretty good scapegoat like any other.

The reason he didn't curse his ex-girlfriend? Well, she ended things because he had cheated on her, so he couldn't blame her for anything. He was the bastard. But being a stubborn man, he decided not to torment himself over it and instead vent his anger on a fictional character. That didn't hurt anyone, right?

"Hahaha, do you really think you could?" V laughed at him as if his words were absurd.

Noticing the mockery in his voice, John clicked his tongue.

"Of course! It'd be a walk in the park, I'd be the Super Captain America!"

Of course, he was just talking bullshit; he didn't even know how to shoot a gun. If he were to go to a real war, he'd probably be the extra who dies from a stray bullet.

V stopped laughing, looked at him seriously, and scoffed.

"You know what? Why not, it's not like your life has any purpose right now."

That wasn't pleasant to hear. All of John's good humor suddenly vanished, and he looked at V with clear annoyance.

"What the hell do you mean?"

"Come on, you know what I mean, you're a failed theater actor, working a job you hate just to pay off the debts your dead parents left you. You don't even have your own house; you live in a shitty apartment, living without hope or dreams. Isn't that a purposeless life?"

John immediately became furious. Maybe if he were more sober, he would have questioned how this guy, whom he had just met, knew so much about him. But in his current state, he didn't care; all his brain registered was the feeling of being insulted.

He stood up immediately, ready to hit him, but the guy seemed to have superhuman strength. He grabbed John's shoulder and with a simple movement, forced him to sit back down.

John opened his eyes in disbelief. He wasn't a small man; maybe he wasn't in top shape, but he was still 6 feet tall and over 90 kilograms. V seemed to be at least ten centimeters shorter and had a slender build. The unexpected display of strength left him perplexed.

"Come on, didn't you say you'd be better? A little truth in your face, and you're already jumping like that. You need to relax, buddy" V poured himself a shot of tequila and took a sip leisurely.

"So, how about we make a deal?" he offered with a smile that sent shivers down John's spine.

"A deal?" His anger had dissipated a bit; even though he was drunk, he could tell something was off with the situation. Maybe it was instinct or something else, but he felt that something had changed.

"I'll give you what you want, a chance, to be the 'Super Captain America,' simple, right? Your mission: be better than him. He was a hero? You'll be a superhero. He was an icon? You'll be a symbol. Two simple goals, right? I won't ask you to be morally better than him because that's simply impossible" he chuckled at the last part.

"But at the end of the day, you're an actor, aren't you? Or at least you tried to be one. Well, even if you failed, everyone deserves their moment of stardom at some point. Here's your role, served on a silver platter. So, what do you say? Do you accept this script, or will you continue living your shitty life?"

John wanted to laugh in his face. Was this guy stupid or high? Was this some kind of comedy show? A hidden camera prank?

But for some reason, he couldn't laugh. There was something about this guy, the way his presence had changed, something strange.

He swallowed hard and asked a question without knowing why.

"It's a deal, right? So what do you get in return?"

V stopped smiling.

"From you? Really, nothing. From the situation? Well, it's been a while since I've had a good show, but if you fail, if you give a bad performance, well, maybe once you die, I'll drag your soul with me on a trip to hell"

That last part sounded truly sinister for some reason. In some corner of his mind, John wondered if what was in front of him was a demon.

Another, much stupider and drunken part of him mocked and made him speak aloud.

"Sounds easy, let's do it!"

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The very sober and rational John looked at his palms and wanted to slap himself ten thousand times.

"I'm such a damn idiot!"

Now everything started to make sense, where he was and why.

Being the Super Captain America? What kind of idiot would say something so ridiculously stupid?...

He sighed and sat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"A role, huh... Being a symbol? Being a superhero? What a damn joke" he looked at the vial with the Compound V for what seemed like hours. Maybe... maybe he could do it.

V was right; he had been living a purposeless life beyond simply existing and experiencing brief fleeting moments of excitement.

A pretty messed up life... but now he was here.

He remembered his past, when he was young and full of hope, when he had joined the local theater to pursue his dreams, dreams he was forced to leave behind due to circumstances.

Stardom, huh...

"A second chance..." well, he could work with that.

"All right, V, watch closely because this performance will be worthy of a Fucking Oscar"

John had never expected to achieve anything in his life, but now, now he wanted to be something, now he could be something.

So, he was going to give it a try.

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Note:

An idea that came to mind while watching the Soldier Boy singing.

The protagonist is not a role model, at least not like Daniel in my other fic, but John is an aspiring actor, and you know what they say, right? Just fake it till you make it.

In summary, this is the story of a guy who pretends to be a hero while learning what it truly means to be one.

 

[Emma Cruzader]

2: Test and Trials

"Attention!" Colonel Chester Phillips' resolute voice echoed across the training field. Some recruits nervously swallowed, while others ensured they stood as straight as their bodies would allow.

The Colonel walked in front of them, his eyes as cold as iron, scanning them from head to toe as if examining a product.

The dozen or so tall, well-built men seemed to shrink a little under his gaze, all except for one, who remained stoic despite the heavy atmosphere. The colonel glanced at him and inwardly nodded.

He walked away from them.

"All of you have been chosen from thousands of volunteers, the cream of the crop that the United States has to offer. But make no mistake, this is just the beginning. From this day forward, for the next month, we will push your bodies to the limit. You will endure the most rigorous training and the most exhaustive tests, and at the end of it all, only one of you will be worthy of becoming the future of this country"

"General Patton once said that wars are fought with weapons, but they are won by men. And gentlemen, we have the best men, and that is why we will win" As he said this, his gaze swept over all the recruits one by one, each with an impressive physique. No one there stood less than six feet tall, all young and healthy, in their prime physical condition.

He smiled, his confidence in this operation slightly increasing. If these were the best men, soon they would be more than men; they would be super soldiers.

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John, who had been discreetly observing his new training companions, couldn't help but want to curse out loud. Where was he? Where was Steve Rogers?

He almost wanted to raise his hand and ask if someone was missing, but he had a role to play. Right now, he was a soldier in training, a good soldier in training.

If he wanted to execute his plan correctly, he not only had to be impressive, but he had to be the best among everyone present.

That day, after realizing where he was, why he had ended up there, and what his future objectives were, his mission, he set it in motion and began to outline simple and straightforward plans.

He didn't know enough about the Marvel universe to make a perfect and foolproof plan. He had only read some comics as a child and as an adult he only saw part of the movies.

He wasn't a genius with perfect memories that remembered every frame he saw, so even his memories of the movies were fading over time.

So his plans had to be simple and direct. He was the actor, and he had a role, but the script was incomplete, and they had only let him read it once. That sucked, but he could adapt.

The first thing an actor had to do was study the role. Without a script, there was only one way John could do this: learn from the man himself, from the legend, the myth.

That is, observe the real Captain America in action and become a better version of him by studying his behavior. It sounded easier than it was.

But he had encountered his first major obstacle: Steve Rogers was nowhere to be found. No, the military base where John was right now wasn't the first place he looked. That was at the exposition of tomorrow

Before being picked up by the military, John had gone to take a quick look at the products of tomorrow. The flying car was certainly incredible; he hoped to get one in twenty years.

But while doing a quick tour, he tried to find Steve, see what he was like, how he acted, what was the man behind the super soldier? But he didn't find him. At first, he thought it was just bad luck, that he had arrived at the wrong time.

In the end, he had to give up and follow the military group to the headquarters of the Strategic Scientific Reserve.

There he thought he would see him, that he could learn from him and study him in depth while carrying out his plan.

But looking around, he couldn't find him. Steve Rogers wasn't there.

John wasn't stupid. If Steve Rogers wasn't here, that only meant one thing: V had done something. V had prevented the real Captain America from being born.

That was his backup plan if things went wrong. Without Steve present, what was he supposed to do? How do you become a better version of someone who doesn't exist?

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, remembering the movie "The First Avenger" There were some confusing things, but the general script was in his mind.

If he wanted this world to have a future, he had to take the reins, do what the captain did... no, not just imitate him, surpass him.

The uncertainty was suffocating, but John felt that the weight of the world on his shoulders was stimulating.

If he failed, the Earth would be conquered by the Nazis, so he couldn't fail. And if he didn't want to fail, he needed to be more than a super soldier, more than Soldier Boy.

He swallowed hard, outlining a new plan. At first, he hadn't intended to steal Steve's place. He wanted to work alongside him and surpass him fairly. Not because he was a good person—John knew he wasn't—but he felt that if he cheated or played dirty against Cap, he would always be in his shadow. How could he be better than him if he surpassed him unfairly?

But with that option out of the equation, it was time to take the wheel and do things differently.

'This is risky. I don't know how compatible both serums are, but if I don't try, I won't be sure'

He hadn't injected himself with the V compound yet, not because he didn't want the power, but because he had read the army acceptance letter specifying that routine medical tests would be conducted on all recruits participating in the trials.

If he suddenly appeared being bulletproof, with super strength, and everything else, would the army just let him go?

John didn't believe so. So, for the duration of the training, he had to remain an ordinary human. He had been devising plans that could serve as an excuse for how he obtained superpowers, but now they no longer mattered.

He was going to get the super soldier serum and then inject himself with a good dose of Compound V, and that was damn worrying.

Would he turn into a deformed monster? Would cancerous tumors grow all over him? He wasn't a scientist, but even an average person knew that playing with genetics was risky. If Compound V and the super soldier serum were incompatible, it would be game over. The consequences would be devastating.

But at the same time, high risk can also bring great reward. If it worked, if both serums were compatible...

What would he become?

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While john thought, The colonel stepped aside and gestured with his hand towards a woman approaching.

"This is Agent Carter. She oversees all operations of this division. When she is present, you must obey her as if her words were mine. Understood?"

At the colonel's words, many tried to hide a contemptuous smile. Carter could see the disdain in their eyes as they looked at her, their lascivious gazes scanning her body as if she were an object. It almost made her frown, but she had endured worse.

"Yes, sir!" a firm and sonorous voice responded to the colonel's words. Some soldiers couldn't help but glance at the recruit who had answered without hesitation. He was the only one who didn't look at Agent Carter with disdain or doubt the colonel's words.

Colonel Phillips turned to him and nodded, his voice roaring again.

"I said, understood!?" At his shout, the recruits quickly stood at attention and responded in unison.

"Yes, sir!"

Agent Carter looked at the recruit who had responded first. He seemed young, but his gaze was hard and firm. Their eyes met, and she didn't see contempt or mockery in them, only respect.

He nodded to her, and she couldn't help but return the gesture with a small smile.

From the sidelines, an old man who could easily go unnoticed watched the interaction with interest. His tired eyes focused thoughtfully on John.

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The trials, the trials were tough.

John found himself on his bunk bed after a long day of rigorous training. His body was aflame, and he had to grit his teeth to avoid a grimace of pain.

He sat on the lower bunk bed and pulled out a small leather-bound book with blank pages. There was nothing in it.

His bunkmate saw the book and laughed mockingly. "What's that, John? A diary? I didn't think you were a sissy"

The other recruits laughed along with him, and John smiled.

"It's a chronicle. We're soldiers, Ryan, and we're at war. If we don't leave something behind, who will remember us in the end?" It was both true and a lie at the same time.

John needed to work on creating the character, leaving behind a background, a story that would be put in museums about him. If he didn't leave something behind, what would his legend be tainted with rumors? It's better if he wrote his own story, or what the people of this world would believe was his story.

Nothing too complicated; all lies eventually come apart, so he had to add some truth to each writing.

Still, he wasn't writing as John, the failed actor who cheated on his girlfriend and drank until he got lost to avoid facing the consequences.

Now he was John Benjamin Vogelbaum, a young recruit enlisted in a special squad aiming to become the best test subject for the creation of the first super soldier.

If he wanted people to remember him as a symbol, a superhero, he had to start leaning the general narrative in his favor.

And there was nothing better than a man's "private thoughts" for that.

So he took a pen and started the first strokes. He didn't know what repercussions this would have in the future, but he hoped they would be decent. Anyway, even if it didn't work out as he hoped, it wasn't the only way he would leave his mark on this world.

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"Come on! What are you waiting for?" Colonel Phillips shouted in the training field as he watched the recruits go through the obstacle course. He saw some lagging behind, stumbling, and couldn't help but click his tongue.

"Some are disappointing, but others are incredible, aren't they?" he spoke to the man beside him, a man with white hair dressed completely differently from all the military present.

Abraham Erskine, better known as Doctor Erskine, adjusted his glasses and watched the soldiers pass through obstacle after obstacle, his stoic face showing no emotion at the display of physical prowess.

"I'm looking for more than just strength, Colonel, you know that" he said.

As he spoke, he saw at the front how one of the recruits lost his grip on the climbing obstacle. It was a fall of at least two meters that would hurt if not fracture something.

A hand shot out and caught the recruit, preventing his fall. He helped him back into the race, and with a genuinely concerned face, seemed to inquire about his condition.

The recruit who had fallen regained his composure and smiled, thanking the one who had helped him, and soon they both returned to the race. The one who helped had been leading but fell behind when he saw the other needed help, thus losing his first place.

"What's his name?" Erskine pointed to John, who was running alongside the other man.

"That? He's one of the best, nearly perfect physical condition, health at its peak, and young. He was one of the first to volunteer for the project. His name is John Benjamin Vogelbaum, a war orphan who enlisted in the army a year ago. He worked as a field medic in several missions before coming here" said the colonel as he looked at the boy's file.

Erskine blinked.

"A medic? He doesn't look like one." John was tall, with a good build and a serious look, a soldier through and through that you'd see on propaganda posters firing at enemies.

"It seems his father was a doctor, a medical chemist or something like that. He must have wanted to follow in his footsteps in his own way."

Doctor Jonah Vogelbaum had been somewhat famous before the Nazis killed him while researching a medical compound in northern Alaska.

They wanted to steal his research, but Doctor Jonah was smarter and destroyed everything before they could get to him. The last the colonel heard was that the place where he died seemed to have been hit by a dozen bombs, leaving only a deep smoking crater.

Erskine took John's file, studied it for a moment before looking back at him in the distance.

It wasn't strength he was looking for, but a good man, and maybe he had found one.

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"Let's go, let's go faster, ladies! Pick up the pace! No one gets left behind!"

The recruits ran with the sun at its highest point, sweat dripping incessantly from their foreheads.

John took deep, short breaths. Exercise hadn't been his strong suit in his previous life, but fortunately, this body had perfect muscle memory and conditioning, so he didn't have to suffer more than he already was.

Soon, the soldier leading them stopped them, pointing to a tall metal pole painted white and then to the fluttering flag at its top.

"This flag marks the halfway point! The first one to bring it back to me can take a ride back to base with Agent Carter" the soldier said with a smile, gesturing to Carter, who had a furrowed brow as she looked at him.

The recruits cheered with excitement and, like a pack of wolves, surged towards the pole, crowding around it, attempting to climb it with just their hands.

John watched from the side, remembering this scene. It seemed he could add a little shine to his character.

The recruits tried their best, but they all failed quickly. The soldier in charge laughed and mocked them.

"No one in 17 years has brought down that flag, boys! Let's get back on the road; we still have half the course to go!" he urged them to get moving again.

John approached the pole without hurry and looked at the flag at its top. Time for a good performance.

The commanding soldier saw him lagging behind and shouted, "Vogelbaum! Hurry up!"

John simply leaned over and released the lock holding the pole in place, then it began to fall to the astonishment of everyone. He approached it leisurely, reached its top, and took the flag.

Unperturbed, he went to the soldier leading them and handed him the flag.

"Here you go, sir" he nodded to him, then got into the vehicle, letting his tired legs relax a bit.

The Agent Carter looked at him with a smile, and he nodded back at her. It seemed like everything had gone perfectly.

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"So, what do you think?" It had been a month since the training began. The Colonel had already chosen the best possible candidates in his mind, but the final word rested with Doctor Erskine.

The older man looked at the recruits not far from them and hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"I think I might know who it could be, but I need to be sure, truly sure"

The Colonel laughed, realizing who he was looking at.

"You want a sure test? Well, I can give you that."

The Colonel took a box of grenades and pulled one out, inspecting it carefully to make sure he had the right one before approaching the recruits, removing the pin, and throwing it towards them.

"Grenade!" Like a flock of headless chickens, they all started running. Some even screamed, others tried to hide or cover themselves, everyone except one.

John lunged for the grenade and grabbed it in his hand. His gaze swept the area in less than a second, then he quickly assumed the best position he could and used all the strength he had to make a throw into the air. The grenade flew a dozen meters before landing in a completely clear area where everyone watched, waiting for the explosion.

But nothing happened.

The Colonel smiled and patted Doctor Erskine on the back.

"So, what do you say? Does he have what you're looking for?"

The doctor looked at John for a moment before smiling.

"Yes, I believe he does"

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"The Colonel said he wanted to speak with me" John entered the study, seeing shelves filled with books, wondering how many of those would disappear over time.

He approached Doctor Erskine's desk and took a seat, looking at the man who was observing him carefully.

"Do you know who I am?" At his question, John furrowed his brows and responded somewhat hesitantly, "I only know you're one of the lead scientists on the project"

Erskine nodded and pulled out a half-filled old bottle. "You could say that, but I'm also the project leader; everything is under my supervision" As he spoke, he took out two glasses and began pouring carefully into them.

"When I started this, I thought it would be difficult, finding someone suitable who could be the one. I went through many tests and met many people, but none of them convinced me" He offered the glass, and John took it, smelling the familiar aroma of alcohol.

"Then I found you, and I thought, is this the person I've been looking for?" Doctor Erskine took a long sip.

"Today, I finally found the answer to that question," he said, looking at John seriously. "I want you to be the one who becomes the hope of this world."

John took a sip of his drink and looked at Doctor Erskine with seriousness and confidence. "I won't disappoint you, sir"

Erskine smiled, patted his shoulder, and continued speaking. "I know. I can see it now. You're a good man, John. Before, I feared what might happen, but now I believe hope truly never dies."

He became more serious. "Before anything else, I have to warn you about something, or rather, someone"

He had chosen John; he would be the first and would mark the beginning of a new era, but that would also make him the main target of their enemies.

He deserved to know what he was up against.

So, Doctor Erskine began to talk about Hydra and their leader, Johann Schmidt, the first failed super soldier, and his greatest mistake.

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Note:

second chapter, longer than the previous one, the bases are just being built, thank you very much for the support that this story is having, I hope to bring more chapters soon

By the way I recently opened a Patreon, so I'll soon soon release Early Access Chapters of all my active fics out there. Remember, if you want to read the chapters twelve hours or a week before they're published, you can do so there. There's only one tier, and there's no set number of chapters beyond "all that I write during the month"

If you'd like to support me in other ways, you can also check out my Ko-Fi. There's the same tier available for subscription with the same benefits.

If you prefer not to have a subscription, you can also make a one-time donation on Ko-Fi. Every donation, regardless of the amount, will be considered a pseudo-month of subscription, and you'll get early access to the chapters I write during that month.

That said, I'll clarify one more thing. This story is free! All stories I upload publicly will always continue to be updated publicly and for free. I won't hide chapters behind paywalls. While those who donate and support will have, as mentioned earlier, early access, the chapters will still be released to the general public between 12 hours to a week after being written, edited, and translated.

So, if you don't have money or just want to read, don't worry. Unless something serious happens to me, updates will continue to come.

 

[Emma Cruzader]

3: Super Soldier

What is an antagonist? A villain? John had studied a bit about them when he was young. They were, in part, the engine that drove the story, almost as much or even more so than the protagonist. They were the source of problems, where conflicts arose.

They could be a great Evil or simply an opposite, a passing obstacle or an impenetrable wall. Bearing that in mind, John thought deeply about all the information he had about Red Skull.

The leader of Hydra was the world's first super soldier, perhaps failed in a certain sense as Dr. Erskine had said, but it was undeniable that he possessed a strength beyond that of the average human. But that mattered little; if John succeeded in his plan, the amount of power he would gain would easily overshadow any power Johann Schmidt believed he had.

Except for the Tesseract.

John didn't know much about the artifact beyond its ability to do crazy things with space. He could see there was a deeper plot regarding the object. It was a pity it had come to this world before he could see all the remaining Marvel movies.

Well, what's done is done, and now he must work with what he has.

"Ready?" Agent Carter's voice snapped him out of his deep thoughts. John straightened his uniform, gave himself a final look in the mirror, and stepped out to meet her.

"Always ready" he winked, and she smiled. They both boarded the vehicle that had been chosen to transport them.

As John watched the landscape begin to move, he thought again about Johann Schmidt. What should he do? Should he simply kill him in their first encounter? Take the Tesseract, lock it in a tightly sealed vault, end the war, and go home?

That would be anticlimactic. How could his story start so spectacularly only to end with him resolving everything instantly?

V was right about one thing: John could never measure up to Steve Rogers when it came to morals. The man would have done anything to end the war, would have seized the chance to end Schmidt instantly, and would have accepted going home and spending the rest of his days building a happy family.

But that story would only create a war hero, not a superhero, not a symbol.

Not a super Captain America.

If John wanted to be better than Steve in these aspects, he had to accomplish much more glorious feats, things that would be etched into the collective human mind forever.

Many people were going to die, many innocent people.

But Schmidt needed to stay alive until John decided he was no longer useful.

'Red Skull, huh? Good name. Rejoice, I'll let your horrible red face appear in history books as the worst man to ever walk this world'

He still didn't know exactly how he would do it, but he already had some ideas in mind. He remembered Schmidt's character: arrogant, conceited, proud, believing himself to be a god among men and that only he deserved superior power.

He could use that. To see the worst side of a man, you just had to press the right buttons, bring him to desperation, make his world crumble around him, and then see what he's really capable of.

"You seem quite thoughtful. Is there something bothering you?" Agent Carter's words pulled John's attention away from the landscape as he turned to look at her, smiled, and waved his hand before beginning to speak.

"Many things, Agent. This is something important. I fear failure, of course, and I fear not meeting expectations. It's a heavy burden to bear" Those were real feelings.

The agent turned to look at him. "Do you regret this?" she couldn't help but ask. The experiment was risky; John's life was at stake. If something went wrong, it would mean his death or something much worse.

"No, not at all. No matter how difficult it may be, I feel it's what I must do" he looked her in the eyes and spoke carefully.

"My late mother once told me that strong men protect themselves, and the strongest protect others. I've always been a strong man, Agent, and now I have the chance to be more than that. That's why I'm here"

She looked at him for a moment before smiling. "Your mother was a very wise woman"

John chuckled. "She would have loved to meet you; I'm sure you would have gotten along well"

The car stopped; they had reached their destination. John opened the door and saw the ordinary streets and common buildings. It was truly surprising how they could hide such an important place in a location like this.

"Let's go" the agent began to guide him. John looked at the antique shop and took a deep breath. The moment had come; it was now or never.

With firm and heavy steps, he entered the place. The bell on the door made its characteristic sound. The place smelled of antiques and dust, a boring-looking place that not many people would be interested in entering.

A perfect place to hide things.

Agent Carter walked up to the counter and exchanged some code words with the elderly lady who ran the store. She smiled warmly, like a harmless old woman. John wondered if that same smile was what their enemies saw before they died.

"Over here" the agent called him, and they soon arrived at a bookshelf that began to open towards the side, a secret door. John would be lying if he said he wasn't excited. As an ordinary person just a month ago, experiencing things like this, no matter how insignificant they might be, was still thrilling.

They walked down the short hallway; soldiers saluted as they passed and opened the doors at the end of the corridor. John saw for the first time the mythical place where Captain America had been born. Seeing it in person was more incredible than seeing it on a screen.

As they arrived, everyone stopped for a moment, everyone wanting to catch a glimpse of the first super soldier of humanity.

John enjoyed the silence for a moment before his gaze met Dr. Erskine's. He smiled and began to descend the stairs until he stood in front of him and shook his hand.

"It's good to see you again, Doctor" their encounter was interrupted by the flash of an old-fashioned camera. At least for John, fortunately, he had been prepared so he didn't close his eyes even though he wanted to. As an actor, he had to get used to being photographed, right?

"Not now" Dr. Erskine quickly pushed the photographer away.

"I'm sorry, they've been very impatient, almost like vultures" John smiled and shrugged it off.

"Don't worry, Doctor" he then turned and looked at the machine, or was it a capsule? That would be his future.

He touched its metallic surface for a moment and smiled. It was time.

"It seems like it's time. What do I need to do?" he asked the doctor, who pointed to his clothes.

"Take them off, all of them except the pants. After that? Leave the rest to us"

John obeyed and began undressing without hesitation. His body, already in good shape, had been further sculpted by rigorous training at the military base. He took off his clothes and handed them to the assistant who had arrived. He glanced at the cameraman not far away and joked with Agent Carter, who had forgotten to look away.

"Maybe you want to ask him to take another photo; it'll last longer" the agent coughed and looked away, too embarrassed to respond.

"You can flirt later; it's time to start" the doctor guided John to the metallic capsule, where he sat down and began to recline.

He settled in as best as he could, not knowing how much this would hurt.

"How does it feel?" Dr. Erskine asked, watching him adjust his position.

"It's more comfortable than I expected" John, who stood at six feet tall, thought the capsule would be tight, but it seemed larger than he imagined.

"Of course, we took all your measurements and fabricated it based on that" the new voice surprised John a bit as he turned and found himself looking into the eyes of the smartest man of the current era, according to the media.

"This is Mr. Stark; his assistance has been significant in this project. He'll be the one operating the machine once everything begins" Stark greeted him with a wave as he approached.

Dr. Erskine made a quick introduction.

"By the way, how are our energy levels?" Stark glanced at the machines and replied to his question.

"At 100%. Everything is perfect and ready to start. We might leave a few houses without power, but nothing that will stop us from doing this"

Stark looked at him and smiled.

"We're going to make history today. Aren't you excited?" At the question, John smiled.

"Like it's the most important day of my life" Stark widened his smile at his response; he felt the same way. This was like the most important day of his life.

"Then let's make history, gentlemen" Dr. Erskine intervened, starting the final preparations.

Agent Carter approached, speaking to John one last time before leaving.

"Earlier, you told me you were just a strong man, but I believe you're more than just that, John. So don't worry about what happens, no matter what it is, everything will be fine"

John smiled. "Your faith in me is flattering. When this is over, remind me to invite you for a drink"

"I'll be waiting" after that, she left. John watched her go; she had incredible hips. He knew he should focus on his goals, but he wouldn't have broken up with his girlfriend if he could keep his pants in place.

Maybe that was another point where he could never surpass Steve.

"One, two, three, can you hear me? Fine" Dr. Erskine took a microphone and addressed the high-ranking officials and other important individuals who had arrived to witness this historic moment.

As he delivered his speech, his assistants began to prepare the serum. John watched as the vials filled with blue liquid were placed into position, and he couldn't help but compare them to the V Compound.

The shade of blue in both was different but similar enough to give John some confidence in their compatibility. Of course, scientifically speaking, the fact that something had a similar color didn't mean it was remotely compatible with another thing of a similar color. But John wasn't a scientist and didn't think like one.

The needle entering his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. He watched the penicillin being injected and couldn't help but grimace internally; he hated needles.

"Commencing serum injection in one, two—" John took a deep breath. Here it began, his story, his new life, his magnum opus, his stardom. He could hardly keep from smiling.

"Three!" with those words spoken, the serum entered his veins directly.

The blue liquid began to flood his bloodstream. The pain was surprisingly intense, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from complaining.

He felt the capsule moving and rising, its metal doors beginning to close over him until his entire body was hidden inside the contraption.

He heard some soft knocks and Dr. Erskine's voice. "Everything okay in there? Can you hear me?"

"Everything's fine!"

The doctor nodded and gave the signal. Stark began to turn a round handle, and the energy began to rise.

"20%! 30%! 40%!"

.

Peggy watched from her seat as the light began to emanate from the small window in the capsule where John was located. She couldn't help but bite her lip and clench her fists as she saw the intensity of the light increasing.

She didn't look away, even though it was becoming increasingly uncomfortable to watch.

"50%! 60%! 70%! 80%! 90%!"

At this point of energy, everyone held their breath for a moment before Stark turned the handle completely.

"100%!!!" Then the light became so intense that it was impossible to keep looking at it.

There was a slight tremor, and nearby computers and devices sparked, and as quickly as the light flooded the room, it was gone.

Peggy opened her eyes and looked expectantly, as did everyone else present. For a moment, silence filled the room before the doors of the capsule began to open, and John stepped forward. His body seemed to have grown several inches, and sweat covered his naked torso. He took what seemed like deep breaths before smiling at her, causing her to start applauding uncontrollably, creating a wave that sent everyone cheering for the success.

He had done it. He had become a super soldier.

.

John had never felt so incredible in his entire life. It was like being born again, but it was more than that; it was like becoming something different, something better, superior.

He took a few steps outside and saw Dr. Erskine and Stark approaching, wanting to support him, but he shook his head, walking on his own quickly, regaining his balance.

Being taller was strange; he was at least four inches taller than before. Agent Carter arrived in front of him, giving him a tight hug with a big smile. He smiled and patted her back, pulling her out of her emotion and causing her to awkwardly step back.

To hide her embarrassment, she quickly spoke, asking a question.

"How, how does it feel?" she said, looking at his muscles, which seemed even more defined.

"Like I've been born again" he replied easily, taking the towel offered by one of the assistants and wiping himself clean.

He felt strong, very stronger.

.

Stark patted Dr. Erskine on the shoulder.

"A complete success, old friend" the doctor smiled and nodded, admiring the result of his work. This time, he firmly believed that things would be very different; this time, there was hope.

Handshakes began, along with camera flashes and congratulations laughter and smiles.

Dr. Erskine couldn't help but be infected by the atmosphere; his smile was the biggest he had had in years. But as with everything in his life, nothing could remain perfect forever.

His eyes found themselves looking inexplicably in the direction of a man, the only one who wasn't smiling or approaching them. Their eyes met, and Erskine felt as if worms were wriggling inside his stomach.

Before he could say or do anything, he saw the man giving him a sinister smile and making a gesture with his hand, then an explosion occurred.

BOOM!!!

.

Glass and debris rained down everywhere, and everyone present crouched down, seeking cover. There were screams and curses; no one could understand what had happened.

"Stop him!" Dr. Erskine's cry was heard by John, who had been attentive to the situation. He looked at the man who caused all the chaos, who took the remaining vial and raised a gun.

He could stop him; he could rush and prevent Dr. Erskine's death.

But he didn't. He watched the gun fire and Dr. Erskine begin to fall to the ground.

'I'm sorry' he apologized inwardly, but a super soldier would only become just another soldier if there were a whole army of them.

And while he decided not to save Erskine, that didn't mean he would let his murderer escape.

Faster than a cheetah, his leg muscles slightly tensed, and his body launched forward at incredible speed. He took a step that lifted him in the air, a jump that took him directly to the top of the stairs, blocking the path of the Hydra agent.

The man's eyes widened, and he raised his gun to shoot. John was faster, and with a single blow, he sent the man's body flying back downstairs.

The vial in his hands flew, falling to the ground and shattering, spreading the serum everywhere among the debris from the explosion and glass.

The Hydra agent let out a groan; his vision blurred, his broken jaw preventing him from using the poison pill he had replaced one of his teeth with.

He tried to reach his mouth to break it with his fingers, but a hand with a grip like iron stopped him.

John arrived beside him and looked into his eyes, then forcefully yanked out the fake tooth.

"Not so easy, friend" he said, lifting his head to see Agent Carter approaching.

"How's the doctor?!" her concerned voice was extremely convincing; he had practiced after all.

She looked at him and sighed, shaking her head, her sad gaze genuine.

John lowered his gaze and clenched his fist, then with anger, he grabbed the Hydra agent by the neck and dragged him to Agent Carter.

"What should we do with him?" he asked.

She looked at him and replied

"Leave him to me"

.

.

.

John saw the blood coming out of his arm and almost frowned. The nurse removed the needle and began sorting through the dozen vials of blood carefully.

"Is this enough?" he asked with feigned concern.

Agent Carter, who had been by his side throughout this process, sighed and replied.

"We don't know. Without Dr. Erskine and with the serum lost, your blood is the only hope we have to try to recreate it, but that could take years or even decades"

The loss of the doctor had been a severe blow to the project; without him, their research was almost completely lost.

John stood up and watched the blood samples being taken away for storage; the moment for the second step of his plan was approaching.

"Has he said anything?" he asked, and Carter knew whom he was referring to.

"It's tough, but sooner or later, everyone talks. I promise we'll find out who's behind this" she tried to console him.

John clicked his tongue.

"We both know it's Hydra. The doctor talked to me about them; they've been after him since he was rescued. They didn't want him on our side, and if they couldn't have him, no one would"

Hydra, the reason all this began. Peggy knew they were dangerous, but it seemed they had underestimated the extent of their forces.

John saw the colonel arrive with more people; it seemed the time had come to discuss their future.

He soon approached them, listening to them talk about Hydra.

"So what are you going to do about it?" in response to the question of one of the senior officers the colonel replied firmly.

"I had a talk with the president. From now on, the Strategic Reserve no longer has a "scientific" in his name. We'll fight head-on and take care of Hydra as we should have done from the start"

He turned to Agent Carter. "Pack your bags, Agent; we're leaving, and you too, Stark. We need you. We're heading to London tonight"

Seeing that it was time, John intervened. He didn't know if he would be able to convince the colonel to let him go with them early, but he wanted to try.

"If you're going to fight them, then I must go with you"

At his words, the colonel looked at him with clear anger in his eyes.

"You're just an experiment; you have no place in this war. You'll go to Alamogordo; perhaps there your blood will be more useful to us than lying in the dirt of the battlefield"

He began to walk away, but John needed to insist on this.

"General, with all due respect, I'm a super soldier. You saw what I can do, the power I have—" his words were interrupted.

"The power in the hands of one man does us no good, Sergeant, so I don't care if you can bend steel with your hands or kill a man with a single punch. I asked for an army, not a single soldier"

John looked into his eyes and knew this stubborn old man wouldn't change his mind. How stupid. What did it matter if it was just him? Even if he only had the Super Soldier Serum running through his veins, he could be considered a one-man army.

Once he had the Compound V in his body, he would do more than just bend steel and kill a man with a single punch.

Still, he took a step back; antagonizing the army while trying to make history within it served him no purpose.

The colonel gave him one last look before leaving.

The man who had been talking to him approached John with a smile.

It seemed like becoming a circus monkey was still in the script.

No, Steve might have been content with being a circus monkey. John, John would be a star.

"I think he's wrong, I think he's forgotten what the real goal is, the path is clear Sergeant John"

The man looked at him with a smile, a smile that only those capable of seeing great opportunities have.

"You're a Super Soldier, a real one. I've seen what you can do, that power in your hands. I believe it's only fair that the whole world sees it too" his smile grew wider.

"A man like you will give security to the masses, to the people. The youth will rush to enlist knowing that you are on our side, that there's a super soldier fighting alongside us. Something like that isn't kept under wraps; it's not hidden. You, sir, can be more than a soldier; you can be a symbol"

He took John by the shoulder.

"So what do you say? Do you want to fight in the most important battlefield in this country? Or stay locked up in a dusty laboratory?"

In these circumstances, there wasn't much more that John could do. He had to wait for his moment, and until that moment came, he could also pursue his real dream. After all, he always wanted to be a Super Star.

With a genuine smile, he took the man's hand and replied

"Of course I want to fight"

The man shook his hand excitedly.

"Then congratulations, you've been promoted"

.

From the sidelines, Carter watched them walk away with resignation. She hadn't heard everything they had talked about, but she knew it wasn't what John had hoped for. He deserved to go with them, to fight by their side.

But the colonel had let the project's failure and Dr. Erskine's death blind him.

Unable to do anything else, she began to walk away to prepare her bags. She needed to find a way to convince the Colonel, but that wouldn't happen today. Until then, she hoped John would be okay.

.

.

.

John had been assigned to a room in a nice hotel in Brooklyn. That afternoon, he had seen the colonel leave with his men; he had been left behind.

He was still in the army, but no longer as an ordinary soldier.

"It seems everything has gone according to plan" While starting to participate in the war beforehand would have been better, how things turned out wasn't bad either. After all, his intention had been not to deviate too much from what he knew until the moment when Compound V ran through his veins.

Well, that moment was now.

He closed all the windows, secured the curtains and the door, even placed a piece of furniture in front of it.

Then he took out his suitcase of personal belongings and broke one of the sides. When he decided not to take Compound V immediately, he had searched for ways to hide it and avoid losing it.

The best option was to keep it close at all times, and fortunately, he could bring his suitcase, which wasn't too large, with him almost all the time.

Before joining the army, he had carefully unstitched a part of the suitcase and tucked the Compound V box between the foam padding inside. The box was small and hard, so there was no risk of breaking the vial if the suitcase was shaken a bit.

He managed to make everything look normal and easily sewed the suitcase back up. While he wasn't an expert seamster, he still knew enough not to ruin it.

Now he took the suitcase and without worrying about its appearance, tore the leather it was made of and took out the vial box.

He opened the box and saw the Compound V in it, as bright and blue as the first time he saw it. He quickly took out a syringe he had prepared in advance and plunged its needle into the top of the vial, starting to extract the Compound V.

Once he didn't leave a single drop, John placed the needle tip directly on his neck, where the jugular vein was, took deep breaths, and gritted his teeth.

It was all or nothing.

The needle sank into his neck, and the blue liquid began to flood his bloodstream.

It was as if molten iron began to run through his veins.

He widened his eyes, almost started screaming, gritted his teeth, and kept injecting until there was nothing left. He let go of the syringe and fell to his knees.

His fingers squeezed the metal base of the bed, easily deforming it. The gripping force was so strong that the deformed metal began to change color to a dark red hue.

John raised his head and opened his eyes, letting out a muffled scream as he felt something change inside him.

Every cell in his body seemed to struggle intensely for a brief moment, then his DNA began to change once again.

His eyes began to turn a bluish-green color, replacing the previous pale green.

He felt his muscles contracting, his bones cracking, and his heart beating strongly.

Then, as quickly as it all began, it stopped.

The pain, the discomfort, everything.

He breathed heavily, sweat dripping from his face, swallowed saliva, and looked at the palms of his hands.

Had it worked? He clumsily got to his feet and dragged himself to the bathroom, where he looked at himself in the mirror. His face remained the same, his body previously altered by the super soldier serum as well; perhaps the only noticeable change was his eyes.

His pupils had changed color slightly.

But other than that, there was nothing strange, no tumor, deformity, or anything like that.

He raised both hands and looked at his arms, then clenched a fist and opened the palm of his other hand. at a speed faster than a bullet, his fist shot forward, hitting his own palm.

The air broke, a Super Sonic boom occurred, creating strong vibrations in the room and sending strong gusts of wind.

John looked at his palm and then at his fist, smiled, smiled so much that he began to laugh out loud.

It had worked.

He had succeeded.

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.

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Note:

How about this? I know it might seem like things are moving slowly, but as I mentioned in the previous chapter, I want to lay down some good groundwork before we start getting wild.

I have read many of your comments and suggestions and have taken everything into account but at the same time I have to be guided by the things that are best for the plot in the future and that John knows he can use, after all he is a pretty selfish person in his actions.

that said I want to thank all the people who have joined patreon! I didn't think so many people would come in such a short time which makes me very happy, I hope I can bring many more chapters and illustrations soon for you guys, you are great remember that.

 

[Emma Cruzader]

Note: Disclaimer

I believe people already know this, but I still want to make a disclaimer beforehand. This story does not seek to faithfully and accurately represent the historical facts that occurred during or after World War II.

I am not a history teacher nor am I well-versed in it. The facts, names, and timing of certain events should not be taken as faithful and accurate information, as these may change for narrative convenience. Everything mentioned in this story is for entertainment purposes and is fictional.

Thank you.

4: Captain America!

"Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Before you stands the unmatched! The strongest, the number one soldier of the United States! He who instills fear in our enemies and safeguards our freedom! The first and only Super Soldier in the world!"

The drums began to sound in an increasingly intense beat, the lights focused, and the curtain rose.

"The Captain America!!!"

Fireworks exploded, there were cheers and applause, women screamed, men exclaimed, and the crowd of hundreds of people was filled with excitement.

Spotlights focused on the impressive figure of John, who stood firm and tall with both hands on his hips and a genuine smile on his face.

He puffed out his chest and raised his right hand, forming the characteristic salute of American soldiers.

His perfectly aligned white teeth almost seemed to emit their own light, music began to play lightly, and dancers emerged from behind the stage, lining up behind him, ready to start their act at any moment.

John approached the microphone with much more confidence than he felt internally.

"Good and honorable men march today to the battlefield, men who once were honest and hardworking, living happy lives, now voluntarily leave their homes and join a cause much greater than any other! To protect our freedom and our lives" he walked across the stage with his head held high, his strong, sonorous voice filling the venue as his eyes met those of the people in the stands.

"I know not everyone can fight on the front lines, and in an ideal world, no one would have to. But this is not an ideal world, and this is not just any war. That's why today I stand before you, before the nation and my people, to ask for your help, help to assist those good men who fight for us today, those who risk their lives, their dreams, and their future, so that our world becomes a safer and more prosperous place every day, where our sons and daughters can grow up safe and happy"

"So I hope that you find within yourselves the spirit of unity that has forged this nation in its darkest moments and has given us the most glorious days. Today, on this great day, you can make a difference, because no matter how small, every contribution will serve to allow our men, our soldiers, to see the dawn of a new day."

"Every war bond sold will become a hand that supports the backs of those great heroes who enlist for battle. Your contribution will serve to raise the flag of freedom over the heads of our enemies and bring the destruction of everything that threatens justice and honor!"

"To bring a better tomorrow, so that even in the darkest night, light still illuminates this world. Today, I urge all those present to raise their voices! Who is with me in this fight for our freedom!!!?"

He raised his fist towards the masses, and the masses responded to his call.

The ovations came like a tide, applause and cheers, the crowd roared along with him.

John smiled; working as a low-wage salesman in his previous life had served him quite well.

.

.

.

"Spectacular! Sublime! Your speech is already making waves across the entire country!"

Edward, his representative and the army's public relations manager, shouted with a big smile as he held up several newspapers where John's name and image were on the front page. John looked at him and teased

"Better than the speech you gave me, huh?"

Edward frowned. When John's first presentation ended, Edward had scolded him a bit because he had thrown away the prepared speech.

Now, even if he didn't want to, he had to admit that the speech they had given him was rubbish in comparison.

"Forget about that! People are dying to see you. We've sold out tickets for the scheduled presentations and we're opening more. Kid, I need you to get ready because you're going to travel all over the country" he put his hand on John's shoulder with a big smile.

John sighed. "If you had let me use the name I wanted, this could have gone beyond the country"

Edward rolled his eyes.

"You're a soldier of the United States, not of the world. We just need you to be a success among our people and maybe the allies; the rest, we'll see after the war" Edward began to leave, still having much to work on.

"Besides, Captain America sounds much better than Captain Marvel" he said before leaving the dressing room, leaving John alone.

The super soldier watched him go and shook his head. Well, what's done is done; Captain America was still a good name.

John looked at himself in the mirror. Fortunately, he had been able to have more influence on the costume.

He was a soldier, so he had to wear green, that's what he said when the image designers started making sketches. That proposal was almost immediately rejected. He needed to be eye-catching, something that people would turn to look at no matter what they were doing.

Reluctantly, John accepted that he would have to wear the characteristic colors but demanded that they add some black and make the blue darker, and the whites less white, leaning more towards silver.

He needed to be iconic, so the star on the chest stayed, but with the addition of what seemed to be silver eagle wings on either side of it. He needed to be recognizable, so he asked not to wear a mask.

He needed to look like a real soldier and a hero at the same time, so he was allowed to wear more than just thin fabric. Fortunately, the army's public relations department had some money, so reluctantly, they were able to meet his demands.

And that had been a complete success. His image was on the front page of every newspaper in the country, even starting to spread to allied countries.

It would be embarrassing for the U.S. army if the image of the country wore a poorly made costume.

John looked at himself in the mirror. It was strange, the stage, the lights, the exclamations, and ovations.

Despite getting everything he had wanted, it still felt unreal, fake, as if he were just in a dream. But this wasn't a dream; it was real, and it was his life, a life that would soon be engulfed in chaos and turmoil.

The sound of flirtatious laughter came, and behind him, the dressing room door opened. Several of the dancers entered with mischievous smiles, their eyes meeting through the mirror, and John smiled, admiring their attractively athletic bodies as they began to undress for him.

The future might be tumultuous, but the present was now, and before being thrown into the flames of war, one had to enjoy their moments of peace.

After all, he was the man who would save the world.

.

.

.

"I know the future seems uncertain, but that's just a deception our enemies seek to implant in the minds of our youth. The reality is that we are stronger than ever! Every contribution and donation you have made has managed to safeguard thousands of lives. Every day that passes, our enemies tremble before our army because it is clear to them that our people will not yield to any threat. They tremble in fear because they know they will never be able to bend us!"

His voice echoed throughout the venue, people cheered and applauded, and suddenly!!!

Falling from the ceiling, sliding down long ropes, twelve men dressed in black raised "weapons" towards John. Then, one more emerged from the shadows. The crude imitation of Hitler exclaimed loudly with poorly pronounced German words. As if it were a command, his men rushed towards the super soldier with ferocity.

The crowd screamed in fear, children stood up with wide eyes.

John moved quickly and agilely, with punches and kicks excellently practiced, within seconds he disarmed them and easily lifted their bodies, tossing them off the stage to a place out of sight of the spectators.

In the face of the demonstration of superhuman strength, the audience exclaimed, and "Hitler" trembled. He tried to raise his weapon, but with a quick kick, John snatched it from his hand and approached him, grabbing him by the neck and lifting his body easily into the air.

John smiled at the audience, clenched his fist, and punched Hitler in the face while using his other hand to exert some force, sending the man flying to the same place as the others.

"And no matter what dirty tactics they use, they will always fail. You know why?" he asked, placing his palm to his ear. The crowd waited expectantly, ready to shout along with him.

"Because I am here!!!"

As he said that, he flexed the arm he had used to strike the Hitler impersonator, causing the crowd to scream even louder.

The tour continued, wherever he went, people gathered in masses. He signed posters, comics of himself, and even personally baptized some children.

He participated in recordings, whether for commercials and advertisements or for full-length movies. He personally wrote several scripts and even released his own songs.

Soon, the slogan he had chosen began to spread among the public.

"Because I am here!"

Discreetly but effectively, he began to add more and more of his own importance into his speeches.

"Hitler and his men think they can impose their absurd ideologies on our people, poison the minds of our children, and blind them while they commit atrocities around the world. Well, I disagree! I believe that freedom, justice, and respect for life are the truth. That's why, no matter what, I will defend these beliefs until my last breath! As long as I stand, as long as I am here, nothing and no one can bend the world or its people!"

He looked at the crowd and smiled.

"Because my mission, my one true mission, is to protect them, to safeguard this world and its people, to preserve justice and peace, and that's Because..." The crowd waited expectantly, ready to rise from their seats.

"I am here!!!"

He briefly bowed as the crowd roared, throwing roses and shouting his name.

"Captain! Captain! Captain!"

"AMERICA!!!"

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Shaking hands, smiling, engaging in casual conversation—John had started to get used to it.

Still, it was boring. All those fake smiles and uninteresting people were quickly becoming tiresome.

It was the night after an important presentation, and John had found the perfect moment to excuse himself and escape from the main hall where "important" people were busy licking each other's boots..

He made his way to a secluded balcony where the views of New York greeted him. Returning to the Big Apple after traveling across the country felt like coming home after a long business trip.

He looked at the starry sky and lit his cigar. The best thing about being a superhuman? Super lungs. He had never dared to smoke in his previous life for fear of getting sick, but in this life, many of those concerns had become inconsequential.

"Almost time" he heard that the next show was especially for the army. If he wasn't mistaken, this would be the moment when he should leave the "showbiz" life behind. It had been beautiful while it lasted. John would truly cherish these memories. He had always wanted to be an actor, always wanted to be famous, and he had achieved it. Now, he needed to do the real heavy lifting. Leisure time was over; it was time to face destiny.

As he contemplated the not-so-distant future, footsteps behind him caught his attention. They were trembling, nervous, like someone hesitating to approach. Perhaps another beneficial characteristic of being a super soldier was the "super" senses.

He could see better, he could even see in the night without any light. He could hear better, not at the level of hearing everything that happened on the planet or anything like that, but enough better to not be taken by surprise.

John hadn't just been enjoying life; he had also been training, getting used to his new strength, testing his senses, learning, and studying.

In reality, he had mastered German in less than a week. He still had some accent, but he could speak it, listen to it, and write it perfectly. The same went for Japanese, French, and several other languages.

in addition to that he had familiarized himself with all types of weaponry of the present era., as well as vehicles and how to operate them. If he was going to war, he needed to know at least what he was up against.

Super soldier or not, anyone could be taken by surprise, and he wasn't going to tarnish the image he had worked so hard to build by being careless.

His mind, although it didn't feel different, had changed. He wouldn't say he was a super genius, but certainly the speed at which he could comprehend and learn had skyrocketed. He didn't feel smarter, but he felt more capable.

John sighed and extinguished the cigar with his fingers, unperturbed by the heat that would have hurt others. He turned, ready for another meaningless conversation.

What he saw was a middle-aged woman acting strangely. She was dressed in typical high-class attire of the era, with long blonde hair and blue eyes. When their gazes met, she opened and closed her mouth as if she wanted to speak but didn't know what to say.

"Everything okay, ma'am?" At his question, the woman seemed to regain her composure. She swallowed and hesitated before clenching her fists and taking a step forward.

"You're Captain America! You're a hero! They talk about you everywhere. They say you save the world, you help everyone, that you can do anything..." her behavior was very strange, discordant. John couldn't quite identify what was wrong.

"Well, not everything. I still don't know how to fly" he joked, trying to lighten the strangely heavy atmosphere. She laughed, relaxing a bit, but still visibly fearful, and continued speaking.

"I didn't know where else to go. I had nowhere else to go. My parents... they hate me now. I changed, I became different... Weird. So, I ran away and saw the posters. I thought if it was you, you could help me, tell me what's happening to me"

She was panicked and scared, it was obvious to see. As well as the almost childlike hope and excitement in her eyes when she looked at him.

It was strange.

"Alright, I can help you, just tell me the problem" the woman nodded, nervously swallowing but seeming to trust him enough to decide to proceed.

Then suddenly, her figure began to change, as if her entire shape were undergoing a complete transformation, like a metamorphosis.

Soon, her height decreased by several centimeters, her skin started to turn blue, and intense red hair replaced the Blonde, yellow eyes looking at him nervously and fearfully, as if expecting an adverse reaction, perhaps waiting for disgust or fear.

John observed the body of the 15-year-old girl before him and had to use all his self-control not to show his surprise. He simply raised an eyebrow to show a hint of "amazement"

He approached her and slowly took her blue hand. She seemed nervous, but seeing no disgust or anything similar in his gaze, she let him hold her hand. John caressed the blue skin; its texture was smooth but with small parts almost like scales scattered in some sections like the knuckles. They were few and almost unnoticeable, but they were there.

"I don't know how I became like this"

Well, John knew, more or less.

"I think it's best if we have a long chat. You said you ran away, right? Have you eaten anything yet?"

She shook her head quickly. Everything had happened too quickly. Her transformation had occurred without her being able to hide it. Her parents had panicked upon seeing her, and her father had even attempted to shoot her, so she ran. She had been wandering the streets of New York all afternoon, changing her appearance until she saw the posters about Captain America's show.

That's when she snuck in using her new ability and waited until he was alone to try to talk to him.

"Alright then, let's go. I'll get you something good to eat" She nodded, still holding his hand, and followed him. John easily navigated through the place, even if it was his first time there. He had already memorized the layout, making it easy for him to avoid people using his heightened senses.

As he led her towards his private dressing room, he couldn't help but glance at the girl with blue skin from the corner of his eye.

It seemed like all his plans would have to change. The future had become much less certain now, and John had lost all confidence in what he thought would be a smooth and glorious journey.

What a disaster.

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Note:

With over 100 votes (counting Patreon and other sites), winning by an almost overwhelming margin, the name "Captain America" has emerged victorious to stay!

It was certainly unexpected. To those who voted for another name, I can only apologize. Democracy has spoken, and as this is a land of freedom, cough cough, we can only abide by what the people have chosen.

As for the chapter... If the MCU is too peaceful in this period of time (metaphorically speaking), we definitely need something to spice up the plot. So let's add the X-Men tag to this.

And an AU tag as well, just in case... So X-Men AU

This is my first time writing speeches, I must say that I didn't expect it to be more difficult than it seems, I hope to get better at it as the story progresses.

You know, if there is any error in the chapter, you can tell me and I will correct it.

The next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon and soon there will be another chapter there, If you don't want to wait for a public update, you can take a look at it n.n

 

[Emma Cruzader]

5: This War is Mine

John watched the girl eat as if there were no tomorrow. Maybe she really hadn't eaten in a long time, or maybe she simply had a big appetite. He didn't know, but it was certainly surprising how much she could eat in such a short time.

Did it have something to do with her powers? Energy expenditure? Idle thoughts filled his mind as he contemplated a future from which he no longer knew what to expect.

Mutants—John knew about them. When he was younger, he remembered going to see some of the movies in the theater, but that was a long time ago. Fortunately, the serum and Compound V had done more than just give him an indestructible body and immeasurable strength.

His mind was different. He didn't know exactly the magnitude of the change, but now he could perfectly remember things he couldn't before. He didn't know if he would call it perfect memory, as there were still things he "forgot" until he needed to remember them. It was then that his brain brought those memories back with perfect clarity.

That was the case with the girl in front of him. At first, he barely remembered some things, but right now he had almost completely recalled everything he knew about mutants, which honestly wasn't much since he had only seen the movies.

And in the movies, this girl shouldn't be around 15 years old at this time.

And much less be in the same universe as Captain America...

"What's your name?" he asked, causing the girl to stop and look at him with embarrassment, realizing the strange spectacle she had been making with her hurried eating.

She quickly swallowed and took a sip of water.

"Raven, my name is Raven" she responded somewhat hesitantly. John raised an eyebrow.

"No last name?"

She shook her head. "I don't think I have one now" Her father had been quite clear with his words as he chased her with his rifle.

"Well, I suppose that's obvious, but you can call me John" Despite his heroic name, people also knew his civilian name. Raven smiled a little and nodded, her nervousness still there but slightly calmed.

"Where do you want me to start?" he asked, sitting down in front of her. John didn't know exactly what to do with the young "mutant" She was a variable, something that could derail all his plans, if it was still possible to carry them out. If she existed, how many others existed? How many others were on Red Skull's side? The Nazis' side?

A fight that should have been simple could end very badly if he wasn't careful.

He wondered if this was the work of V, a final "Screw you, did you think it would be that easy?" just to mess with him.

Raven straightened up and looked at her now blue hands. It was very strange for her, feeling the change. What was it? Why her? She still hadn't fully processed the events of the last day, so she didn't know exactly what she was supposed to do. But she was clear about one thing: she wanted to know what was happening to her.

"What's happening to me?" she asked hesitantly.

John sighed inwardly. It was time to improvise. Since mutants were in this world, he had to seriously change his approach. It was still early enough in the story to make significant changes. Maybe... he could change how the world perceived mutants if he played his cards right.

Of course, his focus wouldn't suddenly shift solely to mutants. He was Captain America! His story was still in its infancy. Whether he could change the fate of mutants or not was merely secondary in comparison if the world ended up as a Nazi dystopia.

"Well, how much do you know about biology?"

Raven blinked and tilted her head to one side.

"Bio-what?"

John looked at her. Right, it was the 40s...

He had forgotten that women hadn't had real access to... well, almost anything in these times.

Of course, there were special cases like Agent Carter and other women in the army, but aside from them, civilian women still had some serious issues. He didn't really know how serious since he hadn't thought about it until now.

Raven must be around 15 years old. If her family was considerate, she should have at least gone to primary school, right?

"Let's change the question. How much do you know about the human body and its evolution?"

After that, John had to become a teacher and give a crash course on human biology in two hours. Fortunately, he was quite good at explaining, and it helped that he could remember all the important information verbatim.

"So, DNA dictates the traits we inherit from our relatives?" Despite having only gone through the first year of middle school before her parents decided it was too much of a waste, Raven was able to understand most of the explanation.

It helped a lot that John was clear and explained things in a way that was easy to follow.

"Yes, and that's what makes you special" he pointed out, causing a look of confusion to appear on Raven's face.

John decided it was time to start changing the perception of mutants, beginning with what the mutants themselves thought of themselves. Sure, only Raven was here, but she could spread the knowledge to other mutants and so on.

"Humans have evolved a lot throughout history. Despite our technological boom starting only a few thousand years ago, the truth is we've been around for millions of years"

"During all that time, humanity has remained almost the same, with only some minor changes... That is starting to change slowly but surely"

Raven listened attentively. The answers she was looking for were about to be given to her.

"To make it easier to understand, you can take me as an example. What do you know about a super soldier?"

Raven nodded, but then frowned and shook her head. She knew that Captain America was the only and first super soldier; they said that all the time. It was on his posters, in the newspapers, even on the radio.

But what did that really mean? She couldn't say for sure.

Seeing her doubts, John began to explain.

"Well, you know how DNA dictates the traits of a human being? Their capacities, whether physical or mental?" She knew that, as John had just explained it, so she nodded.

"The Project Rebirth that I was part of was an attempt by the U.S. military to awaken and modify the best traits within human DNA—super strength, super speed, enhanced durability, as well as heightened senses. They succeeded, but only with me. Due to the assassination of the lead scientist, the project was abandoned"

John took one of the metal shields he used as props and, with one hand, began to bend it easily until it became a small, perfectly compacted metal sphere, which he handed to Raven.

The girl took the sphere with wide eyes. Although she had heard that Captain America was the strongest soldier, she had never really thought about what that meant until now. His strength was beyond human, beyond normal.

Like her.

"You could say I am a forced evolution, but you... you are natural" he said, pointing to her blue skin.

Raven looked at herself once again. Evolution? Somehow, once she obtained this explanation, her change stopped seeming "monstrous and strange." They say knowledge gives perspective, and those who don't have it tend to ignore what is in front of them, as if judging something as trash when it is actually an invaluable treasure.

Raven didn't know exactly what to feel, but she preferred positive feelings over letting herself be carried away by negative ones.

"You are special because of that. Just like you, there are others who are part of a cycle of natural evolution—humans, but much more than that. Meta-humans, if we want to give them an appropriate name"

Mutants? What was that? No, if John had anything to say about it, they would have a better name, one that didn't depict them as something "unpleasant," but as what they really were.

"Meta-human..." Raven repeated the word softly and smiled. She liked how it sounded.

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"Are you sure about this?" It might have been the fourth time he asked, but John wanted one last confirmation.

Beside him, Raven, who now looked like a woman in her early twenties with dark curly hair, nodded emphatically.

It was the day after their encounter, and it was time for John and his team to leave New York for the military barracks to put on a special show for the soldiers.

"I have nowhere else to go. Wouldn't it be better if I followed you?" she asked, looking at him with pleading eyes.

John sighed. In any other circumstance, he would have said no, but in this situation, he couldn't just leave her to fend for herself. He didn't know what kind of disaster she could cause if he did.

"Okay, but remember the rules" he said, making her smile and nod excitedly.

The rules were simple, really: don't mention her real age, don't reveal her powers, and don't act without consulting him.

Convincing Edward hadn't been easy either. The guy really thought he had kidnapped Raven from her family or something. her gaze on him had changed a bit, but he didn't say anything after John insisted. Would this be a small stain on his record?

Fortunately, Raven's current disguise made her age quite well disguised. Although people thought differently in these times than they would in the future, John preferred not to have the label "cradle robber" on his list.

Speaking of Raven's disguise, they had been experimenting a bit with her powers. She could mimic any appearance, even clothes, texture, hardness, and all other aspects. It was interesting how it worked.

While they were thinking about how to make her blend in, John had suggested "combining" that is, trying to add different types of traits to create a "new" person.

She had used her original face, the one she had before changing, but removing certain features that would make her look too young. Likewise, she had changed her hair color and shape, as well as borrowed certain features from the bodies of the dancers who accompanied John on his tour. Somehow, muscle memory and physical ability integrated into her new features, and she was able to perfectly mimic their dance movements and flexibility.

John then wondered what would happen if she copied him. Would it be a truly "perfect" copy? Would it be as strong and tough as he was? He hadn't suggested it because they were short on time.

In the end, Raven had obtained a new identity as a young inhabitant of New York whom John had randomly met and decided to take with him out of the blue... If that didn't sound exactly like the best excuse, there was little time to work with, so he had to improvise.

He hoped to get a better identity for her later, one that could withstand the scrutiny of the "curious." For now, they would have to go with this until then.

What a mess.

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Raven looked at the base they were slowly approaching with mixed emotions. This was the first time she had been so far from home. She had been living in New York all her life. She had heard of distant places before, but she had never had the opportunity to go.

Now she was here, alongside Captain America! Of course, how she got to this place wasn't exactly how she had wished it would be. But dwelling on that served no purpose at all. She preferred to focus on the now and not to depress herself by remembering how she was forcibly expelled from her home.

With curious eyes, she looked at all the people around her. Most of them were soldiers and logistics personnel. It was a large base, and they soon began to walk around the place until they reached the stage where John would have his encounter with the soldiers.

She saw the weapons, the tanks, and the vehicles. It was fascinating in a certain sense. It was like seeing a different world. Even though she knew they were at war, she never really thought about what it truly meant until now.

She adjusted the trench coat over her body, a real one and not a copy that John had gotten for her during the journey. After all, it was easier to maintain concentration on her transformation if she just focused on keeping the shape of her body.

She glanced at John from the corner of her eye, who was talking to "Edward" whom she had barely seen once. Soon, everyone began to hurry to prepare for the presentation.

She even saw John helping out, either carrying props or setting up the stage. She couldn't find much to do herself apart from helping where she could. She didn't know anyone, but she had always been good at adapting, and soon she managed to do some simple tasks to keep herself busy.

In no time, the place began to fill up more and more with soldiers. The stage was set, and John prepared to go up. Not knowing what else to do, she stayed behind the stage with other people, watching him. Somehow, his face seemed much more serious than before. She didn't know if it was because of her new powers or something else, but she had started to become quite good at reading people's expressions and body language.

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John stepped onto the stage and looked at the clustered soldiers, sitting on the ground, standing, perched on some vehicle or tank. They all had tired expressions, and he could see some with obvious bandages on them. These men were important. John knew he could go to war alone, handle everything himself, even the toughest missions.

But what sense did that make? Of course, if he wanted to end the war quickly, that would serve, but John didn't plan on doing that. He was an actor; he needed an audience. What was the point of performing if there were no eyes to watch?

And these soldiers, they would be part of many others who would see him on the battlefield.

For some reason, that thought made him hesitate for a second.

But it was just a brief second. He had already made that decision, and changing it now wasn't an option.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a bitter feeling within him. What had changed? Had he been carried away too much in recent months?

He cleared his throat and smiled, looking down at the soldiers who were looking at him with boredom and even mockery. It was normal. To them, he was just a circus monkey, a clown who did propaganda to fund their weapons.

But that would change soon, once he showed what he was really capable of, once he went to war. He approached the microphone and began to speak.

"I know most of you are here for the dancers, I mean, I don't blame you, Have you seen those legs?" he said, pointing behind him where the girls stood in a row, smiling.

The soldiers cheered and whistled at them, clearly agreeing with him.

"But before you can enjoy their incredible dance moves, I must give a little speech" this time there were some boos.

"I know, I know" he raised his hands, calming them down more easily than he expected.

"I know many of you just want to have a good time after risking your lives on the front lines, and I won't be the one to deny you that. So, I won't beat around the bush. I just want to say a few words to you" he said with all the sincerity he could muster.

"Despite what people may believe, I know the true heroes are here, in front of me. Your effort and sacrifice are a great inspiration to me and all the citizens of this country. It inspires us to stand tall and keep fighting for what is right because we know that no matter how difficult or frightening the future may seem, as long as you stand, as long as you keep fighting, this world will see a future where dignity, honor, and justice become a reality for us all"

"So, today, I thank you on behalf of every man, woman, and child in this world. I express my deepest and sincerest gratitude for your efforts, for your struggle, and for your sacrifices.... Thank you very much!" he bowed slightly.

There was silence, then John straightened up and smiled.

"Now, I'll let these beautiful women thank you in their own way" he winked, and the music started along with the applause and cheers from the crowd. The dancers came to the front of the stage as John exited.

He reached Raven's side and couldn't help but take a deep breath.

"What did you think? Do you think I did well?" He had never asked anyone this before because he had never thought too much about his previous speeches, but this was different. Speaking face to face with those people who would likely die because of him felt much more meaningful than speaking to a group of civilians only to have them spend their money on bonds.

"I think it was very sincere. I'm sure they liked it" Raven said. She could see the faces of some soldiers, and while most barely showed any expression during the speech, some of them were more expressive as they listened. From what she could tell, there were some small smiles on their faces.

john nodded with some hesitation and looked at the sky, which was starting to cloud over. It looked like it was going to rain.

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The show ended, and Raven had returned to where they would be staying until further notice, while John walked through the barracks watching as ambulances arrived with more and more wounded soldiers. The tents were full, and thanks to his enhanced hearing, he could hear their cries of pain and agony as if they were right next to his ear.

It was strangely heartbreaking.

John never thought he would feel any kind of regret for his actions. When he arrived in this world and spent a month in training before becoming a super soldier, he had been quite sure of the path to follow.

The sacrifices that needed to be made.

"Brings out the worst and the best in you, huh..." Who would have thought? The one who had never considered himself a good person actually had some conscience within him.

How foolish.

Because just as that small spark of conscience had illuminated, the blazing fire that was his desire for success had done the same.

Regret, sorrow, and pain, he could allow himself to feel them in private, as hypocritical as it was, but no matter what, it wouldn't interfere with what he had already decided to do.

And so what if thousands died because of him? In the end, he would save millions. In the end, he would create a better world. When all was said and done, his name would be hailed for eternity, and the ashes of those who died would be the foundation and pillar upon which a more prosperous tomorrow would be built.

Maybe when that moment came, V wouldn't even have to drag him down; he would have earned himself a VIP pass to hell.

"It's a balance, just compensate it" he only had to make the weight of his actions lean towards the right side.

"John!" a voice snapped him out of his deep thoughts, and he looked up to see a familiar face, the red hair was quite distinctive.

"Hey, Agent" he raised his hand, feigning surprise, though the truth was he had been expecting to meet her soon.

She approached him with a small smile.

"I saw the presentation, I didn't expect to see that side of the Great Captain America" she said, emphasizing her last words, and John feigned a grimace.

"I thought it was the right thing to do. I didn't come to sell bonds, not today at least" he said wearily, causing his shoulders to slump a little.

"And is that all you want to do? Give shows and jump on stage to sell bonds?" Carter said with some reproach in her voice.

"Do you think I'm a dancing monkey, Agent?" he suddenly asked, looking her straight in the eyes, silencing her.

"I didn't mean-" Carter began, but John cut her off.

"Because I do. I think I'm just the circus monkey when I could be more, do more. I see this place, the men fighting for their lives every day, and I can't help but wonder what the hell I'm doing"

John gestured towards the tents, the ambulances transporting the wounded, and the soldiers with bandages covering their bodies.

"Every day since the serum entered my body, I wonder if what I'm doing is right. Are my actions really helping? Is this all I can do for this world? Is this the only way?"

Agent Carter looked at him and shook her head.

"This is not your only option," she said softly. As they spoke, activity in the area increased, with more wounded arriving every moment. John frowned, and seeing how he looked at the soldiers, Agent Carter had an idea.

"Do you know what happened to them?" the agent asked, catching John's attention.

"Something horrible, I imagine. They seem to have traveled to hell" he said, watching as they pulled a man without both legs out of one of the ambulances.

"Surely they did. A few days ago, Hydra sent a new type of troops never seen before to the front lines. Two hundred of our men encountered them, and less than fifty returned" Agent Carter explained grimly.

John silently gazed at the wounded in the distance.

"What happened to the others?" he asked.

"Dead if they were lucky, but most likely captured. There are reports that Hydra is using our men as slaves, forcing them to work for them" she replied.

John furrowed his brows deeply.

"And what is the army doing about it? Are they going to rescue them or-" his words were cut off by Agent Carter.

"No" she said, shaking her head and looking at him seriously.

"The army won't do anything for them. They have no plans to save them"

John stood still and silent. Without saying another word, he began to walk with firm steps towards the main station of the barracks.

Watching him go with determination shining in his eyes, Agent Carter couldn't help but wonder if she was doing the right thing.

But there was no other way. Hydra had advanced too far; rumors spoke of weapons never seen before, capable of turning a man's body to dust instantly with a single shot.

Common soldiers could never win anymore. They needed something more, something stronger.

And John was all they had. Sighing inwardly, the agent began to follow him. There was no time for regret; war never waited for anyone.

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John entered with hurried steps and stood in front of Colonel Philips's desk. the man was signing letter after letter for families who had lost one of their own on this day..

"Colonel" John's voice made him pause and look up to meet his gaze.

"Well, look who it is, America's favorite dancer! What do you want now, boy? I don't have time to waste; I have another dozen letters to sign" bitterness crept into his voice towards the end.

John glanced quickly at the map behind the Colonel, though he already had a mental image of it. It was better to confirm than to rely on memories that he wasn't sure were still reliable.

"I came to inform you" John said, causing the Colonel to look at him again with confusion.

"What do you mean?"

John met his gaze and spoke loudly enough for everyone around to hear. Agent Carter stood behind him, listening intently, as she wasn't exactly sure what he was going to do.

"I know many of the men for whom you're signing those letters are still alive. I know you have no plans to rescue them"

The Colonel stood up immediately.

"Watch your words boy! Do you think it's so easy to open your mouth and speak without knowing?!" His palm crashed against his desk, making a loud sound.

"Do you think it's my choice to abandon those men?!" the Colonel asked loudly.

John looked directly at him.

"No, I don't believe it's your choice. I believe you have no choice, and that's why I'm here" John took a deep breath.

"The last time we met, you told me you didn't need me, that one man was useless to the army. But you were wrong and I won't wait any longer; not anymore."

The Colonel smirked and asked sarcastically with a low laugh.

"And what will you do, soldier? Will you take that silly shield of yours and go 50 kilometers behind enemy lines? Venture into one of the most fortified territories in the world where hundreds of men die daily? All by yourself?" He laughed aloud, and some of the soldiers around joined in.

"Yes, sir, I will" John's voice cut through their laughter, causing everyone to look at him as if he were foolish.

"I know you don't trust me, and I don't care. I know you have no choice, but I do. I will do this, and I hope you won't stand in my way"

The Colonel's expression turned into cold rage.

"Have you gone mad?! This isn't a game or one of your stupid shows! This is a battlefield where thousands of lives are lost every day! Dancing steps and flowery speeches won't work here, soldier! This is war!" The Colonel breathed heavily before sitting back down and speaking seriously with a thick, heavy voice.

"Now get out of here and stop this nonsense. You have another show to give tomorrow. Remember your place, boy. This war is for real soldiers, not dancers" the Colonel stopped looking at him and began signing condolence letters once more, paying no more attention. All the other soldiers and army members around chuckled under their breath and returned to their duties almost simultaneously.

Agent Carter at his side was the only one who didn't laugh.

John nodded to her and turned away, starting to leave.

"It is, sir. But don't forget that This war is mine too"

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Note:

What do you think? I'm still working on the speeches, it's actually more complicated than I thought.
As always, your critiques, advice, and suggestions are welcome.

I think that the preparation time has been enough, the war is coming and with it the really interesting things begin!

The next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon (patreon.com/EmmaCruzader) If you don't want to wait for a public update, you can take a look at it n.n

 

[Emma Cruzader]

6: First contact

"Where are you going?" Raven watched nervously as John hastily grabbed a few things. He had suddenly entered while she was taking a nap; he seemed to be in a hurry, and his expression was serious. Something serious was happening. Raven had started to become quite good at reading people's body language, something she hadn't been able to do so well before. She attributed it to her powers; she could become anything, perfectly imitating anyone. That also came with the ability to act like them, even if she had never known them before.

This had resulted in her being able to read people quite well. John was more difficult than most but also easier in some ways. He clearly showed what he felt, as if he always wore his heart on his sleeve. Raven had learned that people hide many things; they strive to hide parts of themselves behind layers and layers of lies. But John was different; he seemed to have no need to hide anything. Yet, at the same time, there were moments, small fractions of a second, where he seemed to transform in some way.

It was as if the man who was always honest had something more beneath what should be his true self. It was confusing, and even with her powers, Raven couldn't see through it.

"I've let others dictate what I should do for too long, Raven. I'm a soldier, not a circus monkey or a glorified dancer. It's time for me to do what I should have always done: go to war." He looked her in the eyes, blue eyes with hints of light green. There it was again, an unbridled honesty that for some reason Raven couldn't question.

"What will happen to me? What will I do?" she couldn't help but ask. While it had been her choice to follow him, he had promised to help her too, to take care of her. In the end, she was still a teenager with no place or family to turn to. At this moment, John was all she had left, and if he left, then she would have nothing.

John put his hand on her shoulder and reassured her with a soft voice.

"Don't worry, I'll be back quickly. You can stay here until I return, and then I'll take you to a place where you'll be safe while the war passes."

That didn't sit well with Raven. Maybe a different girl would be fine with just having a home and waiting for all the bad things to happen, but she wasn't like that. She didn't like waiting.

"Let me go with you, I can help!"

John looked at her, sighed, and paused for a moment in his haste.

"Raven, war, war is not a place you want to go. I know things have been turbulent for you, and you're barely adjusting to this new life, but the battlefield is a cruel and ruthless one. If you go, you'll never be who you once were,"

He said it with a seriousness that Raven knew she couldn't convince him otherwise, no matter what she said. He adjusted his suit one last time before grabbing his shield and preparing to leave. Before he went, he stopped at the door and gave her one last look.

"I'll come back, I promise."

Then he left, and Raven clenched her fists, feeling useless. She was a meta-human! Something just like him, like a super soldier! So why was she staying behind while he went to fight?

She paced around the room, thinking about what to do, and that's when she heard the sound of birds' cawing. She looked out the window and saw one of the many crows that surrounded the base, staring at her intently. In a place where soldiers' corpses were coming out by the dozens every day, seeing crows wasn't strange. She had seen many before, but rarely this close.

Raven frowned, feeling her skin tingling, and a strange idea crossed her mind. Maybe...

Her disguise fell away, her blue skin along with her long red hair returned, her yellow eyes stared at the crow, which now seemed to look at her in "amazement" at her change. She smiled, and in a way beyond natural, her physical structure began to change. Her body shrank, black feathers started to emerge from her skin, and her face transformed, a beak growing where her jaw had been.

In a matter of moments, her persona had disappeared, replaced by a crow completely identical to the one outside her window. Both animals looked at each other, and then Raven cawed, causing the other crow to fly away.

She flapped her wings experimentally. Although she had flown for the first time on the plane that brought them to Italy, this felt different. Carefully, she stretched her wings and then leaped into the air, flapping her "hands" causing the momentum to increase, and she flew out the window, a sound akin to a cry of excitement coming from her beak.

Her dark eyes followed John's back as he walked away, and without hesitation, she took flight, following him.

.

.

.

"And what's your grand plan?" Peggy looked at John as he studied a map of the area he had requested secretly.

"Here, this place is where their transports move daily. Although it's heavily guarded, it will also give me a chance to enter Hydra's base directly," he said, pointing to one of the points on the map that the army had managed to "verify"

"And how will you get there? Do you really think you can cross the Italian border and the front line to Austria by yourself?"

John smiled, one of those confident smiles Peggy had come to know from him even though they hadn't interacted much. She liked that smile, but at the same time, she knew it meant he was willing to do something "crazy."

"The serum, it's been more incredible than I initially thought. It's been a few months, but I feel much stronger than when I left that Laboratory. I don't know how much, but I think I can cross the battlefield myself."

She didn't doubt his words. The serum was so experimental that knowing its real effects in practice would have been an entire field of study if Dr. Erskine hadn't died. Now, the only living subject who could point out any effects the serum had on humans was John. If John one day said that the serum made him capable of flying through the air and spitting ice, then no one could contradict him.

"Confidence is good, but having too much can kill you. I know you've been on the battlefield before, so you know how dangerous it is, but there must be better options than doing it all by yourself..." She wanted him to do something, but sending him alone to essentially the front lines of German territory was too dangerous.

They were stationed at a base near the borders, more precisely near the Trentino-Alto Adige area in Italy. The whole way from there to the mountains that separated Italy and Austria had become the fiercest battlefield in recent days.

The Allies had managed to gain some control of Italy after Mussolini's death. The place still wasn't entirely safe, but their bases were firmly planted in Italian territory. The problem arose once you started to approach the borders with Austria. Cities and towns were burning, the mountains had turned into a relentless hell where thousands of men were losing their lives every moment.

Losing Italy had been a harsh blow for the Germans, and they wanted it back no matter the cost, and if something didn't change, they would soon succeed.

"I'm a super soldier, remember? The battlefield is where I should have always been. I just regret not getting here sooner." They both looked at each other for what seemed like hours but were only a few seconds. She gritted her teeth, but the decision was made.

She had been the one to push this, so why did she feel regret now?

"You can't die," she said without thinking, and he raised an eyebrow, looking at her with doubt.

"You have to come back." she told him. She couldn't live with herself if he died because of her.

He smiled at her, this time with one of those gentle smiles that made her stomach flutter for no reason.

"I will. It's a promise, and I never break my promises," he said, smiling at her. They both drew closer to each other, and before she could stop herself, she hugged him. Their faces inches away from touching, it might be the last time they would ever see each other so she couldn't help but get carried away even if it was only for an instant.

She felt his lips on hers, getting lost in the warm sensation as their bodies twisted against each other. It could have lasted for hours, but time was precious, so she had to end it even if she was reluctant to do so.

"See you soon, Agent," he said before adjusting his shield on his back and taking the map, then he left.

She reached out her hand for a moment, then clenched her fist. He was doing his part; she should do hers.

In the skies, a crow followed John's path unnoticed by anyone.

.

.

.

Northern Italy, near Bressanone.

Carlo crouched down as enemy fire rained over his head like an incessant steel downpour. He swallowed the blood trickling down the inside of his mouth and quickly reloaded the weapon he had stolen from one of the German corpses.

Carlo had been just a farmer; he hadn't been part of the army, and if it were up to him, he would never have wielded a weapon. But a man's will is smaller than God's will, and now he was here, as part of the partisan resistance. With the Allies aiding them, the resistance had become bolder. They wanted the Germans out, but the Germans had proved to be much stronger than they had expected.

A battle they had thought secure had turned into another where they were forced to begin a retreat.

At this rate, they would lose Bressanone; the enemy was getting too close.

Carlo adjusted the weapon one last time before gritting his teeth and starting to counterattack. He didn't aim because he didn't know how to, and even if he tried, the smoke and fire clouding his vision were obstacles he couldn't overcome.

He heard the screams, and a hail of bullets rushed towards him. He had hit one, and now he had all their attention. Carlo threw himself into cover, crawling on the ground, feeling the earth shaking.

He heard the sound of wheels, enormous vehicles approaching. They were probably those "panzers" he had heard about. Carlo didn't know for sure; he didn't even know the name of the weapon he carried. For him and many others, the only thing that mattered was knowing what to aim at and knowing what to run from.

In this situation, he didn't know if he could run.

He peered through one of the cracks, and what greeted him was one of the German army's metal giants, its cannon starting to aim in his direction. It was at that moment that Carlo knew he was dead.

He didn't close his eyes because death didn't scare him; he had decided to die a long time ago, fighting for a future where his children could grow up. He only lamented not being there to see it.

The tank's cannon aimed at him, and Carlo looked into the deep darkness within, waiting for death.

But death didn't come. An object moving faster than Carlo could react collided with the tank's head, causing it to veer off course, the turret bending as if the metal it was made of were nothing more than wet cardboard.

The enormous vehicle shook, and the German soldiers shouted in alarm, aiming their weapons in a direction Carlo couldn't see.

Whatever had struck the German tank was now barely identifiable.

Even without knowing what was happening, Carlo firmly grasped the weapon in his hands again and aimed. War never waits for anyone, and Carlo had long since learned to react quickly to abrupt changes.

He fired at the German soldiers, but soon he stopped because before his eyes, a figure that moved faster than the wind and struck harder than bears appeared.

Every blow he delivered sent an enemy soldier flying through the air, his shield adorned with bright colors blocking each bullet with ease, and in a matter of seconds, he reached the enemy tank and With a single kick, the enormous metal vehicle was overturned with a ease Carlo could barely believe.

Not only he, but all those who were still alive and were part of the partisan resistance, watched in astonishment as a single man faced the enemy army. Many quickly snapped out of their daze; without losing this opportunity, they roared and emerged from their hiding spots, following the man who had changed the situation believed to be lost.

Carlo stood up, along with many others, roared, and aimed his weapon. It didn't matter what kind of enemies were ahead or the weapons they carried; with the mysterious man leading the resistance, it was as if they had become a spear of war navigating without any obstacles, cutting through everything like a sharp blade.

"Carlo!" Upon hearing his name, he turned and saw his "commander" Carlo had thought he was dead, but he was glad that wasn't the case.

"Franco!" He approached him. The man was an old Italian soldier who had deserted to join the resistance when Italy began to support the fascist regime. He had been keeping a low profile until Mussolini died and the Allies began to send troops for assistance.

That was when he started to lead others like Carlo in the fight.

"Do you have any idea what's going on, Carlo?" he asked as he aimed and fired before taking cover again.

Carlo quickly shook his head as he took cover alongside him.

"Not a clue, sir, but we're regaining ground quickly." Both looked as best they could through their hiding spot to see another team of German soldiers easily dispatched by the man with the star on his chest, as many had begun to call him.

"Let's go, Carlo. We need to meet our friend." Seeing that there were fewer soldiers attacking them, Franco stepped forward. He was the leader of these men, and it was his responsibility to face anything first, whether it was good or bad.

Carlo didn't hesitate to follow him, and soon both approached as close as they could, providing covering fire for the man who was effortlessly wielding a Browning M1919 with one hand while unleashing the wrath of God upon the German soldiers.

Carlo didn't know the name of such a weapon, but Franco did, which only increased his astonishment at seeing how a single man could easily handle such a formidable weapon with one arm.

The recoil didn't seem to affect him in the slightest, and when the bullets ran out, he simply threw the weapon as if it weighed nothing, causing one of the German vehicles to flip over and then explode into a thousand pieces.

It was then that the Germans began to flee. The resistance cheered, and Franco approached the man who had slightly slowed his relentless assault.

"Good sir, I can't express my gratitude enough. You have saved not only my men but also prevented Bresanona from being taken. May I know your name?" He extended his hand with a smile.

The man looked at him, blue eyes with small hints of green in them, and a kind smile that contrasted with the killing machine they had seen earlier. He took Franco's hand and shook it firmly.

"People call me Captain America, but you can call me Captain John. I'm a U.S. soldier," he said in surprisingly fluent and nearly perfect Italian, which startled Franco a bit.

His introduction was simple but to the point, enough to let them know where he came from. It was then that one of the younger and recently joined members of the resistance, who had been nearby, shouted and pointed at him after hearing his introduction.

"I know you! You're the super soldier! I've heard about you!" The boy's name was Angelo. He was only 17 years old and had joined the resistance when his hometown was destroyed by the German army in a bombing. His village had been near the coast, so some news occasionally reached them.

"Super soldier?" Franco muttered. He could certainly believe that and decided to ask Angelo more about it in private.

The man, John, smiled and greeted Angelo.

"If you know me, that makes things easier. He can tell you more about me. But the crucial point is that I'm on a rescue mission; I need to go to Austria," When he said this last part, all the men present exclaimed in terror, visible in their eyes.

"Do you really want to go to that place?! It's a living hell!" Franco said in warning. The border with Austria was now the most violent point in Italy, and it was said that the German troops were testing new types of experimental weapons there.

"I have no doubts. It's something I must do. I'll help secure Bresanona, but I'll leave soon. In my advance, I hope to help push back the German army as much as I can. I could use a bit of help, but only from those willing, of course," he said, clearly making an offer.

Franco looked at him seriously, then at Carlo, and then at his other men. He remembered what John was capable of and the term "super soldier" Maybe this was an opportunity, one that the partisan resistance shouldn't pass up.

He smiled and shook John's hand once more

"If you can help us kick their butts, then we'll follow you. I'll get in touch with many more men. With them joining us, and with us, you'll definitely be able to break through the enemy lines," Franco said. He had some influence and was confident that the other resistance leaders would listen to him. He couldn't promise to follow John beyond the border, but helping him reach it was certainly possible.

John returned his smile.

"Then let's do it!"

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.

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Note:

I probably don't need to repeat this, but I will anyway. If you're someone well-versed in history or a history enthusiast who knows a lot about the events of World War II, I advise you to turn off your brain a bit because this story will not faithfully follow real events.

For example, Azzano is the place where the 107th lost and were captured. Azzano doesn't exist; it's a fictional location from Marvel. Like this, there are many things/events that have nothing to do with reality, so don't expect accuracy since the existence of John, Hydra, and "mutants" will change many things.

Having said this (which will be the last time I mention it), I hope you can enjoy this story. Critiques, advice, and other feedback are welcome.

The next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon (patreon.com/EmmaCruzader) If you don't want to wait for a public update, you can take a look at it n.n

 

[Emma Cruzader]

7: Choice and Resolution

John looked at the map in his hand, from Bressanone to the Austrian Alps, more precisely towards Salzburg. There were two possible routes to take.

The first option was to go through Vipiteno, following a route through Innsbruck. The problem was that this route was too close to Germany, and because of this, the concentration of the German army in that area was the largest near Italy.

A possibly more direct route was to go through Brunico, crossing the mountains on foot to Salzburg. The problem was the unexplored mountainous terrain; getting lost would be easy, not to mention the guerrilla warfare that was being waged there.

Whichever path he chose, he would encounter extreme violence, so he decided to take the fastest route.

"We'll go through Brunico," he pointed to the location on the map. Franco approached to look, both were in an improvised operations base created in one of the few houses still standing near Bressanone.

Franco looked at the map thoughtfully and nodded.

"In that area, there are still resistance teams sending signals. Brunico has been taken by the Nazi army, but with your help, maybe we can take it back."

If they could retake Brunico, then they would have a stronger foothold on the front line of the conflict. Whether it was Brunico or Vipiteno, both were located on direct routes to Bolzano. If they lost Bolzano, it was almost the same as losing northern Italy.

Nothing would prevent the German army from taking over the border between Austria and Italy if that happened.

.

Angelo reloaded his weapon, his hands trembling slightly but this time for very different reasons than before. Within him, there were many emotions. Since his home was destroyed and his family killed in the bombing that hit his town, Angelo had only felt a penetrating fury and fear inside him.

Since he first held a weapon and fired the first bullet, Angelo believed this world was hell. The only thing driving him was revenge. It was thanks to Franco that he began to see beyond that as time passed.

The man had hope, even being old and having lived through the horrors of war more than others. He believed Italy had a future, a future that would only come true if the fascist regime disappeared.

Angelo liked that, hope. His younger brother had it. He remembered how his eyes lit up reading those "Captain America" comics, one of the silly American propaganda, his father used to say. Propaganda or not, they were good comics, at least they were fun. Angelo never thought too much about them, even when people said Captain America really existed.

How was it possible? And if he did exist, where was he?

Taking cover behind a partially collapsed wall, amidst the explosions and the roar of gunfire behind him, Angelo couldn't help but look through the cracks. There he was, with that emblematic shield and his colorful uniform, facing directly those who had destroyed his home.

If his brother were alive, Angelo was sure he would be screaming with excitement right now.

Since he wasn't, then it was his place to do it for him.

"HAAAHHH!" he roared, his weapon ready, and alongside many others, he emerged from his cover, unleashing a rain of steel upon their enemies without hesitation.

The battle for Brunico had just begun, and they were already winning.

Captain America was the first to engage in combat, easily maneuvering through the enemy's hail of bullets, destroying their tanks with bare hands, and piercing through their hideouts without any obstacle.

He sent the German army into a massive panic that the Partisan resistance seized without hesitation.

Angelo fired; his shots, unlike many others, were precise. He hadn't received training, but his vision had always been keen, and his hands steady, which made him a quick learner once he joined the resistance. He fired each bullet as if it were his last, and almost always hit a secure target.

This made him the target of many German soldiers who had noticed how their comrades were falling because of him.

Even with Captain America being the center of attention, the Germans didn't forget about the resistance.

Angelo barely managed to take cover in time against the counterattack, crawling on the ground, careful of his movements. Nevertheless, the Germans had him in their sights without him realizing it. One managed to sneak through the smoke and dust unnoticed, reaching his side stealthily. Angelo only felt the rifle butt hitting him in the face, and then his head began to buzz.

His vision swirled, and he lost balance. He felt the man lunging at him, throwing them both to the ground and mounting him. Angelo tried to fight, but the disorientation from the initial blow made it difficult. The blows began to rain down on him, and he couldn't help but wonder if this was how he was going to die.

Then the air whistled, a shield sailed through the air until it collided with the man, sending his body flying dozens of meters and bouncing back in an instant. A hand reached out to catch it, and Angelo saw Captain America approaching, concern evident on his face.

"Are you okay, kid?" he stretched out his hand, and Angelo clumsily took it, his head still spinning. He was helped to his feet again, and unable to help himself, he asked a question.

"H-how did you do that?" he said, looking at the shield, which now had a slight dent.

"Math, son," the captain said simply, and he led him to cover, dodging a hail of bullets coming their way.

"Can you keep fighting?" he asked, and Angelo nodded, even as his head throbbed and the taste of blood flooded his mouth.

"Until the end, sir," he held his weapon firmly, and the captain smiled, patting his back.

"Then follow me."

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Carlo removed the safety pin from the grenade and without hesitation, threw it at a group of German soldiers approaching from his left flank. The explosion that followed made his ears ring, but with no time to pay attention to such things, he kept advancing with his weapon ready.

His aim might not have been the best, but when your enemies run around like headless chickens, you don't need to be a sharpshooter.

He saw the man who called himself Captain America ramming into one of the German armored vehicles with his shoulder alone. The immensely large and heavy vehicle was overturned easily, and the man dispatched its occupants effortlessly. Then, he threw his shield, hitting a soldier with a machine gun and preventing the bullets from reaching other nearby resistance members. It all happened so quickly and smoothly that it was almost unreal. Even though he had seen him in action several times before, it never ceased to amaze him.

Young Angelo had told them about Captain America during their journey to Brunico, about the American super soldier project, and how he was the only superhuman who had managed to see the light.

Many of the stories sounded like fantasy, but when you experienced firsthand the kind of strength the man possessed, then anything became believable and unquestionable.

The man didn't need weapons because he was one himself.

And he was on their side. That fact alone sent waves of confidence through all the resistance men. No matter that the German soldiers outnumbered them; when the super soldier was on your side, any obstacle could be overcome.

For the first time in a long time, Carlo had hope. Hope of seeing his family again, of seeing the future he wanted for his children with his own eyes. So, without hesitation, he reloaded his weapon once more and kept firing.

.

Ugo chewed on the tobacco in his mouth and aimed without hesitation at the head of one of the German snipers. He waited for the opportune moment and fired a precise shot that made his head gain a new hole and his body begin to collapse, then he ran.

He navigated through the war-torn buildings in Brunico. They had ventured further into the city, gaining more ground with each passing hour the battle raged on. Reinforcements had begun to arrive from the Partisan resistance thanks to Bruno's call.

Ugo was one of them. When the news that the Germans had been successfully repelled from Bressanone reached the ears of the resistance, many couldn't believe it. Bressanone had already been given up for lost; the Allied army wouldn't arrive in time to help, and the Germans outnumbered the men stationed there.

How did they win?

When the name "Captain America" began to spread, many mocked it as a bad joke. Still, it was undeniable that the Germans were retreating, so several groups were sent to verify what was happening.

Reality sometimes surpasses fiction, and to everyone's amazement, there really was a "Captain America" kicking Nazi ass. All the way to Brunico, the resistance soldiers witnessed his exploits, reporting the events to other teams that were already rushing to the border, even attracting the attention of some nearby war journalists.

After all, this was the greatest opportunity they had to reclaim the territory they had lost against the Germans.

Ugo slid behind an overturned vehicle, watching a group of Nazi soldiers running towards the main fray. He aimed carefully, as he had done many times before, but the sound of a crow cawing too close to his ear made him turn, only to see a German soldier aiming at him from behind. His pupils shrank, and as quickly as he could, he rolled on the ground, narrowly dodging a bullet that would have blown his brains out.

He lifted his rifle and fired without hesitation, killing the enemy and starting to run. Surely, the other German soldiers had heard the shots; he needed a new hiding spot.

Ugo wasn't the only one. An event that would become a supernatural legend took place that day in the battle for Brunico. Future generations would recount how the crow's cawing could be heard whenever danger was near.

Soldiers would tell their children, and their children would tell their grandchildren how they were mysteriously saved by a dark bird that appeared out of nowhere to warn them of danger. And the legend would spread throughout the nearby cities and towns.

.

John gripped the Nazi soldier by the neck, feeling the bones break with a simple squeeze as the man lost all his strength.

He threw him to the ground and looked at the corpse for a moment.

Killing. Killing was strange. From the moment he left the base until he entered the active war zones, he had killed so many people that remembering the number would be difficult for others, not for him. He could remember each of their faces.

It wasn't pleasant. He wondered if he would have nightmares. He never expected something like this to affect him, but it seemed much more significant than he thought before. He didn't want to dwell on it too much, so he forced himself to snap out of his thoughts and pay more attention to his surroundings.

He heard the din of battle in the distance beginning to diminish. The Germans had no choice but to start their retreat towards Sand in Taufers, where their main base was stationed, the Tures Castle.

The ancient medieval fortress was now the last stronghold of the German army.

Once they managed to take it, John could head towards The Northernmost point of Italy, also known as Vetta d'Italia (Glockenkarkopf). Once there, he would only have to cross the border into the Venediger Alps. John had decided to take the most direct route, so he would have to cross the fourth highest mountain in Austria: Großvenediger.

He had heard of it in his previous life and never thought he would one day see it in person.

After that, he would have to make his way on his own to Salzburg. If he wanted to be literally direct, he would even have to pass through part of Germany.

He wondered how the hell the original Captain America crossed all this back with all the captured soldiers or at least most of them.

John wasn't just using the Partisan resistance to make the journey lighter; he also needed a support point to return to as soon as possible from Austria.

He didn't believe that the soldiers who had been forced to work as slaves could withstand a direct journey through an entire active war zone.

And he didn't plan to just rescue the 107th; since he was here, he was going to liberate as many as he could. There were many more bases with captured men, after all.

Once that was done, he would have a greater voice and vote, and then he would lead the front of the war against Germany. A part of Austria would be greatly affected, but that was okay; something always had to be sacrificed to gain something more.

He might even raid other battlefields. Who knows, if he had time, he might decide to liberate France himself, only if there was time. He still didn't know how difficult it would be to deal with Hydra after all.

As he thought about all this and was "distracted," he heard footsteps approaching from his "blind spot." John had intentionally distanced himself from the resistance to have a moment alone; it seemed like an enemy soldier wanted to take advantage of that.

He prepared to dispatch the German soldier for having too many balls to approach him alone, but before he could do so, a figure fell from the sky, pushing the soldier to the ground with enough force to knock the wind out of him and leave him writhing on the ground.

John furrowed his eyebrows tightly at the familiar figure that was the blue-skinned girl.

Raven skillfully removed the soldier's weapon as if she had done it many times before and delivered another blow, causing the German soldier to groan. Then she looked at him nervously, almost bowing her head.

"I-I know what you're going to say, but I'm like you! You said it yourself, I'm a metahuman, a super soldier... I can help!" Raven said, looking at him nervously. She had acted without thinking, or rather thinking that if John saw that she was actually useful, then he wouldn't send her back.

She didn't know how to fight, or at least she shouldn't have, but her powers came with many more advantages than she initially believed. Muscle memory was one of them. She had copied the physique of that military woman she had seen with John at the base before he left, and it was as if her body knew how to move on its own, acting automatically and guiding her in her movements when facing others. Just like when she copied the body of one of the dancers accompanying John, and she instinctively knew she could dance just like her.

With this discovery, she believed that if she "saved" him, then he couldn't refuse. That's why, unlike before, she hadn't made a sound to attract attention, and instead had acted directly to show that she was "capable."

"Then kill him," John's words were cold, sending a shiver down Raven's spine. She opened her eyes and took a few steps back, looking at the soldier on the ground in panic.

Incapacitating was one thing, but killing? She had never done that before.

"I-I..." Raven stammered.

John sighed; the war was affecting him more than he had expected. He scratched his head and spoke in a softer tone.

"Listen, Raven, wanting to help is good, but war isn't just about helping. To win a war, you must be willing to get your hands dirty, to do what's necessary to ensure the well-being and safety of those who can't fight for themselves, even if it's unpleasant. These men..." He glanced at the soldier who was struggling to get up.

He did nothing to stop him; in fact, he pushed Raven aside and let her see, along with him, as the man stood up and pulled out a knife hidden in his chest.

The man looked at them with fury and disgust, a disgust that Raven could feel more directly directed towards her.

"Aberrations!" he growled in German, and although Raven couldn't understand the word, she could sense the underlying meaning. It was one she had felt when her father had chased her with a gun in hand, ready to kill her.

It was disgust.

The man ran towards them with blind rage. John simply stepped forward and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife. The man tried to fight back, but he couldn't break free from John's grip.

"They won't hesitate to kill you," John concluded his words and tightened his grip slightly. The sound of bones crunching made Raven tremble slightly. She had seen a lot of violence and destruction since she had secretly followed John, but one thing was to see it through the eyes of a bird, and another was to witness it directly with her own eyes. It was a very different feeling that hit her hard.

"And you shouldn't hesitate to do the same with them. So if you're not willing to do what's necessary, then you're not cut out for this war... back to the base, Raven." John didn't kill the man because he was more useful alive than dead; he would let the resistance take care of him and extract all the information they could.

He let the man fall to his knees, and with a simple stomp, he broke the man's left leg, then turned around ready to clear the battlefield and secure Brunico.

Perhaps his words had been harsh, but he believed they were necessary. Raven was still just a young woman; if she couldn't make tough decisions, then the path ahead would only be torture for her mind.

He heard the man screaming behind him, but he didn't care, at least not until it abruptly stopped when a thunderous sound was heard, the sound of a gun being fired.

John stopped and turned, only to see Raven holding the soldier's gun with trembling hands and the lifeless man on the ground with a hole in his head.

John's pupils briefly contracted at the sight.

"I can help," Raven gritted her teeth, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she held them back, her voice was trembling but firm at the same time.

She had seen death, she had saved many resistance soldiers, and witnessed the horrors that Nazi soldiers were carrying out. After seeing all that, after witnessing war, how could she go back and simply leave? She was still young, and just a few days ago she thought her life would be nothing more than ordinary. But now everything was different, she was different.

When she found John and heard his explanation about the origin of her changes, somehow she knew that her destiny was tied to something greater, that she could do much more significant things than she had believed possible.

That's why she had to follow him, that's why she had to be by his side. She couldn't change the world like he could if she simply stayed behind and did nothing. Somehow, she knew she had to fight, or she would regret it in the future, because deep inside her, she knew that this war was also hers.

John approached her and slowly took the gun from her trembling hands. Then he gave her a gentle hug, letting her cry into his hands, patting her back softly.

She broke down, but quickly regained control, and still firmly looked at him, her hands trembling less than before.

Seeing the determination in her eyes, John licked his dry lips and made a decision.

"Alright, but you must remember the rules," he said, and Raven knew what he meant.

She smiled, though it was a strange smile, quickly nodding and wiping her face.

"Quick, you need to change; people are approaching," John whispered, and she quickly adopted the "disguise" she had used at the base. John frowned at her appearance and shook his head, speaking quickly.

"You must wear something different." There were people among the resistance with cameras, probably war journalists trying to capture images for posterity and document the progress of the war. If she went out with this appearance, some people from the base where she had last performed might recognize her when the images were published in the newspapers.

It would be difficult to explain why a civilian was with him. Besides, this was also an opportunity to give Raven a more "solid" identity.

Raven furrowed her brow slightly and began to change again quickly, this time becoming a perfect copy of Peggy. Before John could say anything, she started making further changes, using Agent Carter as a base.

Her long red hair was replaced by short ash-blonde hair that reached her shoulders, her eyes became slightly sharper and black in color, her nose smaller, and her face slimmer. She looked similar but different, still having a military appearance, like a woman you would see in the army without a doubt. Additionally, her clothing changed to a nondescript military suit, similar to what most soldiers of the Allied forces wore but slightly different, making it difficult to determine which army she belonged to.

"That'll work." Without hesitation, he grabbed some dirt and ashes from the ground and threw them at her face.

"Hey!" she spluttered.

"This is war; you're too clean," he said. She looked at him with furrowed brows but understood the message and altered her appearance a bit more, this time adding some "dirt and rips" to her attire.

John nodded and turned to the left. From a corner, he saw Franco emerging with some of his men, all wearing broad smiles.

"Captain! The German army has started to retreat. I've had my men start fortifying the place. Shall we continue to advance?" Franco's respect, and that of all the other members of the resistance, towards John was immense. Unconsciously, they all treated him as the superior in charge.

"No, fighting without rest will only weaken us. Before we proceed, we need to replenish our strength and wait for reinforcements. If we want to successfully take the castle of Tures, we need to be at our best." Moving quickly was fine, but moving recklessly could get them all killed. John needed most of them to come out alive, or this wouldn't be the resounding success he hoped it would be.

In response to his words, Franco ordered his men to start clearing the area and prepare to spend the night. It was then that he looked at Raven and asked.

"Who is she?" In response to his question, John replied, already having thought up an excuse.

"She's Raven Morgan. She's a volunteer ambulance driver who was captured by the Germans when the Allied army was defeated. I found her while clearing out this place."

Franco understood. He had heard of the VAS (Voluntary Ambulance Service). Their help had been greatly appreciated when the invasion of Italy had begun. They weren't soldiers strictly speaking, but their work was much more important. Without them, many good men would have died.

"Pleasure to meet you, young lady," Franco greeted with respect, knowing that the lives of some of his friends had been saved thanks to the VAS in the past.

Raven couldn't speak Italian, so she couldn't understand what was said and could only awkwardly smile and return a greeting.

"Excuse her, she doesn't speak Italian very well," John apologized, and Franco nodded, not surprised. Many fought in Italy without knowing the language; in war, words mattered less than bullets.

"Let's go, we still have to clean up this place," John said, taking the weapon from the dead soldier. He looked at it for a moment before handing it back to Raven, who took it automatically, demonstrating a proficiency she shouldn't have had with firearms. Clearly, it came from mimicking Peggy's body.

Franco raised an eyebrow at seeing the weapon in Raven's hands, and John clarified.

"Now she's a soldier under my command. She'll follow us in our campaign to the border," and probably beyond. Since she had decided to participate, John would make the best use of her help unless she regretted it. If she chose to withdraw, he wouldn't stop her.

Franco didn't question John's decision. Many of his men had also been civilians who had chosen to carry weapons, and there were even some women among the ranks of other resistance teams. In times of war, whether woman, child, or man, anyone who could carry and shoot a weapon was welcome.

Perhaps the direct army wouldn't fully agree, but nobody was asking them.

Soon, the three joined the resistance army, and preparations for the night began. After all, there were still long battles ahead.

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Note:
With this chapter I have caught up with the chapters on patreon, but don't worry!!! To celebrate almost 200 paying subscribers on Patreon, this week will become SuperSoldier week!

I plan to focus on writing and releasing several chapters of SuperSoldier continuously on Patreon! I hope to get at least 5 chapters out, but it could be many more, I want to see how far I can go if I focus on writing like crazy (I still have a job so essentially I will use all my free hours for this, maybe I will even sleep an hour less or something like that) the week starts on Sunday June 2 and will end until next Sunday, after that, depending on how it goes, maybe I'll do a Still Defiant week.

So if you are interested you can join patreon and enjoy the next chapters in advance ;D patreon.com/EmmaCruzader

 

[Emma Cruzader]

8: Preparations

Bruneck Castle, Night

The partisan resistance had taken the central German base in Brunico, Bruneck Castle. The ancient castle opened its doors to its rightful owners. Franco's men had finished clearing the nearby corpses, and the prisoners of war had been locked in one of the rooms, awaiting interrogation.

John surveyed the area and nodded with satisfaction. While most of the partisan resistance members were not soldiers, they had learned well from the few who were. They fortified the place, raised their defenses, and took possession of the Nazi weapons and vehicles that were still available.

Thus, the castle had become a rather decent place not only to spend the night, but John believed that if he had to stay here, he could undoubtedly withstand an assault from Nazi troops.

It was a pity this wasn't a tower defense game; he couldn't stay here long. His nerdy side tingled since one of his childhood dreams was to have his own fortified base. Maybe in the future, he could buy an island or something similar.

"Have you found anything else?" he asked a man named Carlo, who seemed to be Franco's second-in-command.

The man shook his head. "We searched, but it seems there's no one left. We're already interrogating some of the Nazi soldiers, but they're tough." What John was looking for were the civilians. Bruneck had been a picturesque city before the siege. While many managed to escape, many others did not. The Nazis wouldn't kill them all, so there should be prisoners, but there were none, and that was a problem.

"I understand. I'll wait," John dismissed Carlo and began to wander around the castle until he reached a secluded area. With a leap, he landed on the roof of the castle and stood casually at its peak, admiring the views. He raised his hand, and the caw of a crow followed. Soon, the bird flew to him and perched on his arm.

"How is it?" he asked, and the crow looked at him with more intelligence than a bird should possess. Then, it opened its beak.

"You were right; they didn't go too far. At least 200 of them stayed behind and are fortifying the center of a nearby village to the southwest. There could be more; I couldn't count them all. They're very alert."

John considered this and quickly located the place in his mind. He knew the German army wouldn't completely give up on Brunico; they would surely wait for reinforcements but wouldn't retreat entirely.

"That must be San Giorgio. They were expelled in a straight line, after all." There weren't many paths to take. From Bruneck to Sand in Taufers was only a straight path covered by mountains with dense vegetation. Not many would dare to cross such terrain without knowing it.

"Did you see anything else? Civilians, maybe?" he asked Raven, looking into her dark crow eyes. She shook her head in an oddly human gesture. For John, it was both strange and fascinating. He didn't expect her to be able to transform into animals, but it was certainly a welcome help. She was eager to assist, so he had given her a simple task: follow the remaining German troops and locate where they had stationed themselves.

"Only soldiers, no civilians."

John frowned. That was strange. There should be something. He didn't know the exact population, but even if this was a rural and mountainous region, the small villages scattered around weren't few. With the displacement due to the war, many civilians should have fled to larger population centers like Brunico and, to a lesser extent, San Giorgio.

Unless they took another path he hadn't considered... After all, he wasn't a resident of Italy. He was guided by known maps and information given by the partisan resistance, so he could be overthinking this...

But somehow, something inside him told him it wasn't that simple, and John had begun to learn to trust his instincts more and more.

"Do you need me to take another look?" Raven asked, flapping her wings.

He looked at her and shook his head.

"No, it's time to rest. You've done enough." He patted her on the head, and she made a strange sound. Then her body began to return to "normal"—or rather, the disguise she had created. She held her head with a pout and a blush on her cheeks, but he didn't mind.

He had never had a pet before. They were too expensive to keep. Of course, thinking of Raven as a pet wasn't right either; she was more valuable than that. Still, he couldn't help wanting to pet her when she was in her crow form. Maybe he should get a cat and let her take its form?

With idle thoughts like these, he held her by the waist and stepped down to the ground with her.

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"Damn it!" A resistance soldier gritted his teeth as they extracted the bullet from his torso. Blood gushed out, making him groan even more, and the men around him panicked, trying unsuccessfully to stop the bleeding.

"What are you doing!?" Captain America's voice cut through, making Franco, who was holding the man to keep him from thrashing, look up.

The Captain rushed to the man's side and quickly took control of the situation.

"Quick, I need a needle!" he ordered and began to treat the wound. No one dared disobey him due to the immense respect he had earned among them.

Soon, he managed to stop the bleeding and, with unexpected skill, began stitching the wound.

"How many more wounded are there?" he asked, looking at Franco.

Franco snapped out of his stupor and responded. "At least a dozen. Our medics are treating them, but it's not enough." The injuries were severe, and the medical equipment they had was far from ideal. The resistance had few people with medical knowledge, and they were overwhelmed.

"I'll help," said the Captain, making franco's curiosity to come to the surface.

"Are you a medic, Captain?" John looked at him and smiled slightly.

"Just a nurse, though I served as a field medic during some missions only because I was the only one available."

Franco blinked, surprised. Not just him, but everyone nearby who heard was surprised as well. If John had told them he had served as an infantry soldier, they would have believed it easily. But the 1.95-meter-tall man with an athletic and imposing build didn't seem like the type who would serve as a nurse.

One had to understand that in this era, it was usually women who served as nurses, so men who did so were often ridiculed by their peers. It would have been more respectable to say he was a medic, but John openly chose to say he was a nurse, which surprised many.

For his part, John couldn't help but silently complain. When he arrived in this world, he hadn't thought much about the background of the body he now possessed. It wasn't until later that he learned of his "supposed" nursing skills, which could have landed him in a lot of trouble because he knew absolutely nothing about medicine.

He found out while still in training camp, and it stressed him out quite a bit. If someone asked for his help in the middle of combat and he didn't know how to provide it, wouldn't that tarnish his reputation? Wouldn't it make people doubt him?

So, since he hadn't gone directly to the battlefield, he used the time to delve into the study of medicine. Thanks to the super soldier serum and Compound V, while he wouldn't say he was a genius, his learning speed was significantly accelerated. He could study multiple things simultaneously without forgetting or confusing anything.

He used this to relearn nursing. No one questioned him when he started, as his record stated he was a nurse. He only had to say he was reaffirming his knowledge to avoid forgetting his skills.

John didn't exaggerate either; he didn't need to become a doctor. He just needed to establish a solid foundation in nursing skills to demonstrate that he indeed knew how to do it.

Not far from them, a man with a large camera in hand looked at the image he had captured of John treating the wounded soldier. He smiled—without a doubt, the media would love this.

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It was late at night when John finished treating the last man. The partisan resistance medics had been a great help, and together they managed to stabilize most of the wounded. However, many others died as their injuries were beyond what any doctor or field nurse could treat.

The people observed a minute of silence for them, and their bodies were placed aside to be buried later.

John wiped the blood from his hands and looked up at the dark sky. He thought he understood death, but today he couldn't help but feel that he didn't understand it at all.

He looked at his palms. He had killed before, and it had made him uncomfortable, but it was just that—a discomfort he could ignore by focusing on the path ahead. But feeling the life slip away from someone while trying to save them was entirely different.

He didn't dare look away as the last breath of life left their bodies. Instead, he forced himself to look directly into their eyes as they took their final breath, holding their hands and staying by their side until the end.

It was torture.

Logically, he knew he couldn't assume the blame for their deaths. This was war, and everyone fighting in it was aware of their potential fate. Even so, he couldn't help but feel a certain amount of guilt pressing against his chest.

He couldn't save them all, but he was Captain fucking America! At the very least... at the very least, he should be able to save those fighting alongside him, shouldn't he?

"Here you are," Raven's voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he turned to see her arriving with two plates of food.

He smiled and patted the spot next to him. She walked over, sat down beside him, and handed him one of the plates.

"Come on, the guys found some canned meat. looks pretty good," she said. The partisan army had looted the supplies the Nazis had brought with them, as well as those stolen from the town. With over 100 men in the castle, feeding them would have been difficult if it weren't for Franco, who was smart and knew which supplies were most important to take and where to look for them

At the same time, they expected more men to arrive by morning, likely doubling their numbers. The partisan resistance had decided to fight alongside John without hesitation and had started heading towards their location. The Allied forces were probably starting to receive the news, or they would soon. A movement this large couldn't be hidden, after all.

They ate in comfortable silence. John didn't feel very hungry but forced himself to eat. He needed to replenish his energy, even if he had only expended a small amount. In truth, he no longer felt sleepy. He wasn't sure if he didn't need to sleep anymore or just needed very little sleep. He hadn't tested it much, as he liked sleeping and resting.

But now that he was on the battlefield, he knew he wouldn't have many nights of comfortable sleep. He looked at raven sideways. She finished her meal quickly, her appetite seemingly undiminished since the first time they met.

"Here," he said, offering what was left on his plate. She looked at him doubtfully.

"You're not hungry?"

"I've eaten enough," he replied. She looked at him for a moment but didn't argue further and took the plate with a smile.

"How do you feel?" he asked when he saw her finish her meal. She had killed for the first time today, and even though she was smiling now, John knew that wasn't something easily overcome.

Raven set the plates aside and played with her thumbs, looking down at the ground. Her smile had vanished. She thought about John's question and answered honestly.

"It's strange. I was scared, but when I fired that gun, my hands didn't shake, even though I thought they would. I know it's because of my powers. Copying that woman helped a little... But still, I thought it would be harder, that I would hesitate more... Is it normal not to feel regret for what I did? I mean... he wanted to kill us..."

Raven had been scared. Her heart had pounded, and she felt her blood run cold in her veins. Yet, when all was said and done, killing that man hadn't had the impact she thought it would. She didn't know what to expect, but she expected something... But nothing happened. The world didn't stop; everything continued as if the death of that soldier were just a footnote on a page that no one would remember.

Except for her and John, of course. Still, somehow, even if she felt somewhat shaken, she couldn't find any regret within herself. In fact, she was glad, as strange as it sounded, because now she could be by John's side and be part of something truly important.

She didn't know if that was good or bad, and that confused her.

John thought about his next words before responding.

"You did the right thing. I told you before, in this war, no matter which side you're on, you have to make tough decisions, get your hands dirty, and do what you believe is necessary. Your choice was made, and you chose to move forward. If you don't regret it, that's okay. Don't feel bad for not doing so. Remember, they're your enemies, and none of them will show you any mercy."

He needed Raven by his side; she was too useful. But John knew he would have to do some questionable things in the future, things he could hide from the general population. But Even if he was a good actor, he knew he couldn't hide everything. Sooner or later, something would come to light. Not for the masses—he'd make sure of that—but those closest to him might notice some things. Of course, it was preferable that they didn't, but John couldn't control everything.

That's why he needed to make sure she understood, that she stayed by his side, even when he made the toughest decisions.

Raven looked at him, and he smiled warmly. The doubts within her began to fade, and she couldn't help but return the smile. He was right; she did what was necessary, made her decision, and had no reason to regret it.

His support meant more to her than she expected, making her heart feel lighter because she somehow felt he would be by her side no matter what.

"Thank you," she said, unable to help herself.

John smiled and reached out, giving her a pat on the head, making her blush a bit. His hand was warm.

"That's what I'm here for, right? Whenever you need help, just tell me, and I'll do everything in my power to support you," he said earnestly.

Raven stopped focusing on the sensation of his hand stroking her head and, with an equally serious expression, nodded and responded firmly, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I will too! No matter what, I'll help you as well!"

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Note:

SuperSoldier week is over! I met my small goal of 5 chapters, with a chapter of almost seven thousand words that was the one that ended this small event, I really would have liked to be able to do more but I still have a formal job and responsibilities to attend to, even so with more than 200 subscribers payments on Patreon I'm starting to consider stopping working too many overtime hours at my normal job and devoting more time to writing, who knows, let's see how things progress little by little.

Remember that the next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon (patreon.com/EmmaCruzader) If you don't want to wait for a public update, you can take a look at it n.n

 

[Emma Cruzader]

9: San Giorgio 1

"You need to clean it this way, or it will jam. Always remember to keep your weapon as clean as possible; any delay will give your enemies a chance to attack first," John explained carefully. Raven looked at the parts of the weapon she had taken from the first man she killed and nodded, barely managing to remember everything he had said so far.

"Understood?" John asked, and she simply nodded. John smiled but furrowed his brow at the same time, then shouted louder.

"I said, understood?!"

Raven was taken by surprise by the shout but quickly raised her hand and gave the characteristic soldier's salute that John had shown her.

"Yes, sir!"

"Fine. Now reassemble it," John ordered, making Raven look at the weapon parts. Everything she was supposed to have remembered suddenly seemed mixed up and confusing.

John watched her fumble with the pieces and start reassembling the weapon. He looked up and saw Franco approaching, seemingly bringing news, so he decided to walk over to the man.

"Training the recruit, Captain?" Franco asked with a smile, remembering his old days in the army.

"Just making sure she knows everything she needs to," John replied. Raven could defend herself using the muscle memory copied from other bodies, but only that. She still lacked much of the necessary knowledge to be an adequate soldier. Fortunately, John had learned enough for both of them and was now showing her. He couldn't teach her everything in just a few hours, of course, so he focused on some basic and important things.

He hoped to teach her more over time.

"Seems quite good at it," Franco said, and John turned to see Raven skillfully assembling the weapon as if she had done it many times before. Anyone else might have been fooled, but John noticed how her eyes still held a hint of confusion as she did it.

That girl... she was cheating.

"I suppose so. Changing the subject, is there something important?" John quickly got to the point, the dawn was coming after all.

franco returned to his senses and quickly nodded seriously.

"The reinforcements will be here soon."

It seemed the time had come.

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Nicola looked at the old Bruneck castle. Many years ago, when he was just a child, he had visited the place with his family. Back then, the sight was astonishing; it was an ancient, well-preserved building that spoke of times when fantasy seemed not far from reality, and where children could play around it, imagining they were in a fairy tale.

Now... now the castle was stained, its walls riddled with bullet holes and barricades covering its old walls. The marks of fire had blackened its once white color, and he could even see bloodstains still covering the ground.

It seemed that fairy tales had died. He laughed bitterly, but he did not feel depressed, because even if the scenery was unattractive, today, more than any other day, he felt that fantasy had become reality. He took a step forward and extended his hand, looking into the blue-green eyes of the man they called Captain America.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I've heard a lot about you."

The man smiled, an honest smile that Nicola had rarely seen, and shook his hand firmly.

"It's good to see you here," he said, looking at the more than one hundred men behind Nicola.

Nicola smiled. "A battle like this, we would never lose, Captain." Nicola was not the first; before him, other teams of the resistance had arrived at the castle.

There were small teams, with only a dozen men, and there were large ones, with a hundred or more.

By midday, the resistance army stationed at Bruneck Castle had grown to more than a thousand men.

Franco, Nicola, Lorenzo, and Marcello were the names of the four leaders with the most "recognition." There were other leaders, but once everyone had gathered, they ceded control of their men to those they respected, namely, the four mentioned above.

In the main room of Bruneck Castle, the four leaders, along with their trusted men and John, gathered. Maps were spread out on a long table, and they began planning the upcoming battle.

"Without a doubt, some of them will be waiting for us at San Giorgio. We must be careful, as they might have received reinforcements," John pointed out on the map.

"In that case, wouldn't it be better to take the route towards Villa Santa Caterina? If we take that path, we could surprise them by attacking from behind," one of the men suggested, but Marcello disagreed.

Marcello was a middle-aged man, tall but with a noticeable belly and a thick, unkempt beard that did little to hide the scars on his face.

"They have maps too, you Idiot!. They'll clearly know they can be flanked and will be prepared if we go that way. What we need to do is attack from both directions. We have enough men for a pincer maneuver. While half of us enter through San Giorgio, the other half should attack via the Santa Caterina route," he indicated the other path on the map, one less traveled due to its indirect route.

"Divide our forces? We don't know how many men they have. They could have received reinforcements from the borders! Besides, that path is more convoluted; if our troops go that way, it will take much longer to arrive. I think the best option is to attack directly from the front, so we can ensure a direct retreat route if necessary," Lorenzo spoke up. He was an elderly man missing an eye, with a thin build but a firm voice.

"Both of you make valid points, but you're forgetting one thing: in this battle there are not only normal soldiers," John said, smiling as they looked at him.

"You should advance from the front, draw their attention, and turn this into an attack-and-defense fight, making them believe they're in a direct battle. Meanwhile, I'll take a small group of men through Villa Santa Caterina. That way, the path will be quicker. We'll enter stealthily and then strike where they least expect it."

It was risky because no one knew how many Nazi soldiers might be stationed along the Villa Santa Caterina route. But if it was Captain America doing it...

"I can follow that plan," Franco said, being the only leader of the four who had seen John in direct action. He had great confidence in his abilities.

Franco's trusted men nodded in agreement, and the other three leaders looked at each other. Although they hadn't seen John in action, they had heard a lot about him. If it was him... They remained silent for a moment, looking at each other and reaching a tacit agreement. They decided to trust John.

"Alright, we'll attack from the front," they all nodded in agreement.

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Werner Kesselring spat on the ground as he gazed into the distance through his binoculars. It had been approximately 20 hours since they lost Brunico to a bunch of peasants with stolen weapons, no less.

Such humiliation would have given the Major at the Bruneck base a heart attack if he hadn't been killed during the previous battle...

This loss was not something they would accept easily. The Generalmajor stationed at the Sand in Taufers base had ordered reinforcements from Uttenheim to rush to their aid; they needed to clear the way to Bolzano soon.

The first to arrive were a series of Panzer tanks along with a new battalion of 500 men. With them and the little more than 250 men who had managed to retreat to San Giorgio, they now had almost 800 soldiers.

It might seem like a small number unless you considered the thousands of men fighting against the Allied army on the Austrian borders. In Sand in Taufers alone, a division of fifteen thousand men was being prepared, with their numbers increasing daily.

The German army was preparing for a full assault on northern Italy soon, and while it might appear that there were not enough men, they did not need them.

Not now that in their hands they carried weapons beyond the imagination of their enemies.

Werner looked at the "tank" in the distance. The dark metal beast differed from conventional designs. Though based on the successful Panzer model, its structure was more robust, and the cannon was much thicker and shorter, making it the largest tank Werner had ever seen.

Looking at the logo on the side of the vehicle, he couldn't help but scoff a bit. It seemed that after many years, Hydra was finally starting to show its usefulness.

With these "Hydra Uber tanks" and the new weapons brought by the reinforcements, it didn't matter even if their enemies had three times their numbers. The Third Reich's army would emerge victorious no matter what.

Even if that stupid circus monkey they called Captain America interfered.

Werner's hand couldn't help but tremble slightly as he remembered the scenes from the previous battle. He gritted his teeth and gripped the new type of weapon he had received more firmly. He had been one of the few lucky enough to get one.

Feeling the weight of the sturdy-looking rifle that emitted a faint blue light, he couldn't help but feel much more confident than before. Something like that wouldn't happen again. No matter how strong this "super soldier" was, it would only take one shot, and his body would turn to ashes like any other man.

He just hoped he would be the one to deliver the final blow.

As he fantasized about it, the sound of the alert brought him back to reality immediately. He quickly raised his binoculars to find the enemy, but before he could see anything, a bullet pierced his head cleanly.

His body fell to the ground, and another German soldier approached, excitedly taking the weapon from his hands and assuming his place, preparing for the battle.

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The Partisan resistance began their attack without hesitation, utilizing the terrain and remaining buildings to their advantage. With their spirits at their highest, the men of Italy fought with all their might, immediately drawing the attention of the German army with their fierce entry.

The more than a thousand men split to surround the base from the front, initiating an "urban" battle throughout San Giorgio. The once peaceful village was engulfed once again in the flames of war.

Their siege was met with a barrage of bullets that cut through their path. The German army used their defensive advantage to prevent their enemies from advancing further, employing strategic positions to stall the resistance's initial momentum, causing a momentary stalemate between both sides.

Nicola flicked the safety off the grenade in his hand and without hesitation, threw it directly towards an enemy barricade. The explosive soared through the air, but before it could travel halfway to its destination, it was intercepted by a shot, causing it to explode prematurely.

Nicola crouched down and swiftly changed position, moving adeptly to avoid being hit by enemy bullets.

Of the four leaders, Nicola was the shortest in stature, which always gave him an advantage that he seized whenever possible. Many said he was like a rodent skulking through the rubble; he believed he was more like a snake.

After all, his bite was quite lethal.

Quickly and stealthily, he approached the enemy barricade and without hesitation, emerged from his hiding spot with his weapon raised high. The German soldiers didn't see him in time, and a hail of bullets rained down on them, ending their lives swiftly.

"Let's go!" Nicola shouted to his men, who emerged from their hiding spots and began to advance.

It was time to show the Reich a little Italian wrath.

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Note:

Due to certain circumstances when I wrote this chapter I ended up making it shorter than I would like, still don't worry! the next one returns to a normal length

The next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon (patreon.com/EmmaCruzader) If you don't want to wait for a public update, you can take a look at it n.n

Leave me your comments, suggestions, and criticisms. You know I read everything and take it into account for future chapters.

 

[Emma Cruzader]

10: San Giorgio 2

Franco felt his ears ringing, an explosive had detonated near his position, causing him to lose balance and his vision to start distorting. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened to him, but it could be the last.

With difficulty, he crawled, trying to reach a nearby partially collapsed wall to lean on it for support.

He heard something, like a voice calling out to him, but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Then a hand grabbed his shoulder, and Franco tried to turn quickly with his weapon ready to fire.

Fortunately, he couldn't even hold his weapon properly, or he would have blown Carlo's brains out. The man helped him move, and soon both reached a safer position. Franco shook his head, his sense of hearing slowly returning.

"-Something's wrong," Carlo's words finally reached him, and only now did Franco notice the fear in his gaze and the beads of sweat on his face, his eyes clearly panicked, seeking direction.

Franco swallowed his pain, discomfort, and fear and quickly inquired about the situation.

"What's happening?" But Carlo didn't have time to answer because before he could speak, the place lit up with a bright blue light, there was a roar, and the ground shook. The sound of a massive metal machine crushing everything in its path was clear.

Franco crawled to get a clearer view. What greeted him was the strangest metal beast he had ever seen. Its design was huge and heavy, clearly extremely armored, the blue light inside the main cannon intensified, and all of Franco's instincts screamed, like an old soldier who had been in battle after battle since the war began, he had developed enough perception to know when death was near.

His eyes turned to a group of his men who were relentlessly attacking the enemy tank. He wanted to shout, to warn them, to retreat, to hide, but his voice was drowned out by the tank's shot, not a projectile but pure unknown energy that turned everything in its path into dust.

There was no deafening roar, no explosion; suddenly, the whole group of partisan resistance soldiers and the place where they stood were reduced to ashes.

Franco was momentarily paralyzed, but only for a brief moment. weapons never seen before, that's what the defeated soldiers of the Allied army had said when they were forced to retreat many days ago, weapons capable of reducing a man to ashes instantly.

No one had believed it, no one could believe it without seeing it for themselves, but now that Franco was witnessing it, he knew that this battle would be much more difficult than he thought. Still, they knew this could happen; John had warned them.

He glanced at his watch. They had a schedule; they just needed to keep resisting for another 15 minutes.

He looked at Carlo and quickly gave his orders.

"Initiate Plan B!" Even if their weapons were terrifying, even if a single shot from them meant death, at the end of the day, they were all wielded by men.

"Remember, you have to disarm them, those weapons no matter what, you can't let them exploit their power," recalling John's words, Franco began to move to a better location. Carlo looked at his back, gritted his teeth, and began to move in another direction as well.

He carefully took out a flare hidden inside his uniform and without hesitation, fired it into the sky.

Unlike more conventional armies, the resistance lacked many things. Their weapons, for the most part, were stolen, as was their equipment. Getting radios was difficult, so their communication during conflicts tended to suffer as a result.. Still, there were clear signals that everyone could understand if they discussed them carefully.

In the sky above San Giorgio, two flares flew through the air, sending a clear signal. The resistance soldiers quickly picked up the message and began to change their tactics.

They stopped focusing on advancing and began to become a nuisance. Even if many of them had not been soldiers in the past, those who had been and had belonged to the army were the ones who taught them how to fight against those who were stronger and better equipped, and how to counter their tactics.

And so, more than a thousand men began to split into small teams of five, using their familiarity with the Italian lands and its architecture. They started to attack the German army as if their numbers outnumbered them 5 to 1, even though it wasn't the case.

They had begun a guerrilla warfare.

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Villa Santa Caterina.

Raven soared through the sky, flapping her black wings as she fixed her gaze on her target. At first, it was strange, seeing through the eyes of a bird was very different from doing so with human eyes. The colors, sharpness, and depth, everything changed in ways a human brain couldn't imagine.

Still, thanks to her power, Raven was able to adapt. No, not just adapt, it was more like she had always been a bird. Every movement, every action, no one could see through her disguise unless she allowed it.

She dove through the air, landing softly on a high wall. She raised her wing and began to "scratch" with her beak, mimicking bird behavior effortlessly.

A German soldier, scanning beyond the wall with binoculars, frowned at the bird landing not far from him. He gripped his weapon, considering whether to shoot.

In the end, he simply picked up a nearby stone and, with a slight smile, threw it at the bird. The raven seemed to anticipate the stone and cawed, flying back into the sky above his head.

The soldier laughed, truly getting bored. Guarding the road to San Giorgio was anything but exciting.

"What's all the fuss about?" his superior officer approached, and the soldier stopped laughing.

"Just a silly bird, Sir. Still no signs of any intruders," Hans responded somewhat nervously. The officer glanced at him before nodding.

"They're attacking from the front. If there are no sightings in 3 hours, we'll return and provide assistance." Hans blinked but quickly nodded.

"Yes, sir!"

A team of 50 men was stationed at this "base." The new major who had arrived from Villa Ottone (Uttenheim) believed that their enemies might attack from their flank and had stationed men here preventively.

So far, no enemy had shown up, so for Hans, all of this was just a waste of time. They should be in San Giorgio where the real battle was taking place.

He was eager to fight, to prove his worth, and bring honor to the Reich.

He watched his superior walk away, and once he was sure he was far enough, he turned his gaze back to the sky. It seemed the bird had gone.

With some disappointment, he took his binoculars, hoping his shift would end soon.

Before Hans could react, a shadow fell upon him from the sky. His eyes widened as he felt a boot press against his neck, but he couldn't do anything. The unknown weight struck with such force and speed that his neck snapped instantly. His twisted body fell to the ground, his dead eyes staring into the void in confusion.

He couldn't even scream.

"Tch!"

Raven scoffed, looking at Hans's lifeless body and quickly grabbing his weapon, and looting any other useful items she could find. She had made sure that no one paid attention to this place, so it was easy for her to dispose of the body by tossing it over the other side of the wall. Everything was done swiftly and without causing any commotion; no one noticed a thing.

Then her figure changed, and "Hans" smiled, adjusting his weapon on his back and holding his binoculars.

He looked through them to a specific location. No one realized her series of previous actions, no one except John. Through the binoculars, their eyes met, and a tacit understanding passed between them. They both nodded in unison.

Raven took out one of the chewing gums that Hans had brought with him and started chewing on it while examining the gun in her hands, making sure it was loaded. Then she entered the base with light steps.

It was time to fulfill her mission.

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"What are we waiting for, sir?" Angelo asked nervously.

John smiled beside him.

"A signal." He and 15 other men waited hidden not far from the German base in Villa Santa Catarina.

"Listen to the captain, lad! He's got a plan," an older man with gray beard named Mario said as he smoked a cigarette. He was an ex-Italian soldier who had left the army when Italy joined forces with Germany.

"Patience is a virtue. Things will happen when they have to happen," Sergio, a not-too-old baker whose house was rumored to have been burned in a German attack, chimed in.

Angelo blushed as he felt their gaze. Now, he felt stupid for asking.

"Don't worry, lad. There are no dumb questions, only fools who don't ask. Your curiosity isn't a bad thing," John said, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

Angelo smiled and nodded, feeling less down than before.

"Listen up, soon our signal will come. We must be swift; the fighting in San Giorgio must have already begun."

The 15 men under his command nodded, all ready.

With a bit more courage than before, thanks to John's words, Angelo couldn't help but ask another question, this time in a low voice.

"Captain, why don't we just go in directly? I mean, with you here..."

Angelo's doubt was normal; everyone present knew what he was capable of. If he wanted, he could charge straight into the base's wall, and no one would be surprised if he simply knocked it down.

So, why wait?

John looked toward the base and responded calmly. "I can't be the only one shining in this war, lad."

Angelo blinked in confusion but was quick to recall something. "Are you referring to that woman? Raven? I thought she was just going for reconnaissance."

John smiled. "She's not just a woman, lad, remember that. And don't underestimate her for it. Women are dangerous, and not getting on their bad side will save you a lot of future trouble."

As he finished his words, a roaring and thunderous explosion shook the entire area. Fire and smoke billowed up, engulfing more than half of the enemy base in seconds.

"And that's our signal! Let's go! Move!" John pushed Angelo, who looked at the smoke and fire rising in the distance with disbelief.

Had that woman done this?!

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Otto Wilhelm coughed, feeling his face burning in pain; the fire had scorched his skin. He crawled on the ground, barely keeping his consciousness afloat.

'What happened?' he tried to remember, but his mind was chaos. He was the Leutnant of this base; everything had been going perfectly, with no enemies or attacks in sight. They would soon be able to return to aid their comrades in the real battle.

So why? Why could he hear his men screaming in agony?

He looked up and saw one of his men approaching slowly; it was Hans, the soldier in charge of guarding the wall. Otto tried to speak, to get his attention so that he would come to help him.

"Hmm?" Hans didn't notice him and approached. Otto smiled with hope blossoming in his chest; perhaps he wouldn't have to die here.

"H-Hans, I need you to—"

Otto fell silent. The reason? The dozen grenade pins in Hans' hands. He looked in the direction from which the soldier was coming; wasn't that where the ammunition was stored?

"Hans, you...!"

"You know, I can't understand you at all. I suppose my power has some limits in that regard. Well, you can't have it all. Still, I can read your body language, which makes it easier to deduce what you're thinking," Hans spoke, kneeling in front of him and looking at him coldly.

But that wasn't Hans' voice...

"I know you're scared now. I'm sorry; I don't like making people feel that way, but it's necessary. This is the mission he gave me, and I have to show him what I'm capable of. I can't afford to fail. In the end, we are enemies, so you shouldn't hold a grudge for this, okay? I'll make it quick," Hans drew the knife from his hip, and Otto's eyes widened in panic. He didn't need to speak the same language as this "imposter" to know what he was about to do.

He tried to crawl away, to escape, but with his legs broken from the explosion, he couldn't even move a few inches before the knife struck him directly in the chest.

"I-I," he looked at "Hans" in the eyes, feeling his life slipping away.

"I'm sorry..." "Hans" said.

That word was one of the few English words the dying Leutnant knew. Otto couldn't help but laugh as he spat blood and, in broken English, uttered his last words.

"N-no, you're not."

His body fell lifeless, and Raven furrowed her brows. She stood up, removing the knife from Otto's chest, and looked at him for a few moments with unknown thoughts. But she quickly forgot the encounter upon hearing the gunfire starting to arrive.

Without hesitation, she changed her appearance, returning to her disguise. She didn't want her allies to shoot her by accident, after all.

Soon, she joined the fray. Raven's initial strike had killed or injured more than half of the men stationed at the base, and those who remained were in a state of confusion and without guidance. They stood no chance against John's team.

Raven fired her last bullet, watching as the German soldier fell to the ground. She was quite good with weapons, even if she barely knew anything about them.

John approached her side as the other members of his team cleared the base.

"You did an excellent job," he said, causing her to turn and smile from ear to ear.

From the beginning to the end, John had used the attack on Villa Santa Caterina to test Raven.

He wanted to see her true capabilities, how far she would go, if she could follow his orders.

"I told you I could do it," she boasted, and John smiled, reaching out to pat her head.

"You did more than just do well. I've already decided—you'll come with me to Salzburg." Raven's eyes widened with amazement, and she almost let out a squeal of excitement. She knew Salzburg was John's final destination; even the partisan resistance would be left behind. John had told her she should stay and help them, which had been bothering her because she didn't want to. But now it seemed he had changed his mind.

She couldn't help the pride that swelled within her. She had done it! She had proven she could stand by his side.

John then lowered his hand and handed her the weapon, the first one she had obtained.

"Come on, it's time to go to San Giorgio." Raven nodded, fixing her hair, which had been tousled by John, and followed him with excitement. This war was just beginning for her, and she was already looking forward to what would come next.

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Major Reinhard Maier surveyed the situation on the battlefield with furrowed brows. What was the resistance trying to accomplish?

It was as if the roles of both sides had abruptly reversed. It was the German army advancing while the partisan resistance concentrated on maintaining their "defense" with a large-scale guerrilla war throughout San Giorgio. It was annoying; they couldn't effectively use their new weapons against them in this manner.

However, this wouldn't last long. It made no sense to engage in a war of "attrition" since behind them, thousands of other German troops were ready to sweep through the northern Italy...

It made no sense to fight in this way. The major furrowed his brow as he listened to the reports.

"Sir! It's an emergency!" A soldier entered the command room, causing the foreboding feeling that had been brewing within Reinhard to intensify.

"What's happening?" he asked quickly.

"We lost one of the new Hydra tanks, sir. The resistance ambushed the team escorting it in the north!" Panic was evident in the soldier's voice. One thing was to have those tanks on their side, but to have them against them?

"Damn peasants! They're trying to steal our weapons!"

He needed to fix this quickly. He couldn't let the Generalmajor in Sand in Taufers find out about this, or his entire military career would go down the drain. He had worked too hard to get some of the new Hydra armaments. He could excuse himself if he lost one of the portable weapons, but losing one of the new Uber tanks was not permissible.

"Quickly! Send a platoon of 50 men to-"

His words were interrupted by an explosion that rocked the entire place.

Reinhard watched as the entire left wall of the command center disappeared. He looked with incredulous eyes as flames engulfed the entire place within seconds. His men shouted, raising their weapons, but before they could fire, something attacked first.

Faster than any man could react, a metal shield flew through the air, steel piercing through bodies without any difficulty, easily cleaving dozens of men in half before slamming into a wall and embedding deeply into it, the metal bent and deformed due to the strong impact.

Major Reinhard looked at the soldier who had brought the news of the Uber tank loss, or at least the remaining half of the man's body. He watched as the legs fell, splashing blood onto the floor, and with trembling body, took only a few steps back before a voice caught his attention.

"I don't know if you're stupid or just too confident, sending only 50 men to protect the road to Villa Santa Caterina? Seriously? Or perhaps because you thought these 'weapons' would be enough to kill me?" Captain America said as he threw one of Hydra's heavy assault rifles to the ground, the metal of the weapon warped, and the blue light inside seemed unstable.

"In any case, I'll accept your surrender, or you can die. Whichever path you choose doesn't matter too much because you've already lost," confidence rang in his voice. Reinhard clenched his teeth. This arrogant man... how dare he?!

"You foolish Amerikaner, you think you've won? You think you alone can stop what's coming? You're nothing but a stupid clown wearing a colorful suit and carrying a stupid symbol. Hydra will never fall to you!" Reinhard retrieved one of the "little" toys he had kept for himself.

Without hesitation, he released the safety of the silver grenade, which shimmered with blue colors. His arm moved swiftly, preparing to throw the grenade in John's direction. But before the grenade could even leave his hand, a precise shot from a weapon struck it.

Reinhard's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the explosive begin to detonate prematurely.

"Oh fu-!"

The blue light flooded the area, and everything within a three-cubic-meter radius was engulfed in a dome of energy. The ground shook, and as quickly as it came, the light vanished, leaving behind a completely clean crater.

John approached the smoking crater holding the gun, which he had stolen from a Nazi soldier, in his right hand, the barrel still smoking.

"It seems I've won this duel," he said, inhaling the smoke from the barrel before twirling the weapon in his hand, completing a full rotation, and then smoothly holstering it at his hip.

He had always wanted to do that.

He glanced at the destroyed base for a moment before rushing back to the battlefield. He needed to take care of these new "weapons" after all.

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The flares sailed through the air, and when the partisan resistance army saw them lighting up the sky, they cheered with excitement and began to regroup.

Captain America had arrived!

The German army had lost its command center and its commanding officer; the radios stopped working when the base from where orders were given was destroyed, and their calls went unanswered, causing panic to ensue.

The Hydra Uber tank fired at a two-story building; its walls offered no resistance, and the resistance members hiding within died instantly.

"Let's go! Haha!" Inside the tank, a Nazi soldier shouted with excitement as he looked through the periscope viewer. The Uber tank was immense, with different cabins to control various sections. The main turret couldn't rotate like in other tanks, so it was the duty of a smaller secondary turret to do so, and this turret was special.

Whether reloading, aiming, firing, or maneuvering, it could all be done by a single man.

Müller never imagined he would be chosen to handle such a weapon. With every shot, he couldn't help but feel invincible. As long as he operated this weapon and was inside this impenetrable mobile fortress, he felt he could vanquish any enemy.

His radio buzzed. Müller reached out to answer the call, but a jolt in the cabin made him look with confusion toward the door separating him from his team members.

Why was it shaking?

That question was soon answered. There was a screech, and the cabin door was easily ripped off, casting the shadow of an imposing figure over the Nazi soldier.

Müller looked in disbelief as a hand stretched out and grabbed him by the neck, dragging him out of the cabin. Before he could react, he found himself being thrown out of the Uber tank's main hatch and plummeting to the ground from over three meters high. His head hit the ground upon impact, killing him instantly.

"Let's go!" John shouted, and a group of resistance soldiers quickly joined him.

One of them entered the main cabin, while the others explored all the secondary cabins.

"What's happening?" John asked, arriving next to the soldier and seeing him studying the controls with confusion.

"It's different from any tank I've been in. Give me a moment," the soldier said, pressing some buttons and clumsily familiarizing himself with the controls. Then the metal beast roared again and began to move.

"I think I've got it!"

John nodded and exited the cabin to the main hatch.

He could have destroyed the tanks, but he had a better idea: steal them and let the resistance use them. Fighting fire with fire. Of course, Hydra still had the Tesseract, so they couldn't recharge their weapons or the tanks' energy. Still, as long as they had power, they could still use them, and that's exactly what they would do.

The tank turned, its main cannon aiming directly at the German army, and then it began to fire. A Panzer tank that had been attacking the resistance army turned into scrap metal instantly.

John didn't stay idle; with Raven's help, acting as his eyes in the sky, he could get an idea of the battlefield distribution and go where it was most needed.

Within minutes, he completely hijacked all 15 Hydra tanks from the enemy. The partisan resistance began guiding the Ubers to destroy the remaining 40+ Panzer tanks.

Their large size and heavy armor made it impossible for the Panzers to destroy them without being destroyed first. No matter how well-armored the Panzers were, a shot of blue energy was enough to penetrate their armor completely.

Seeing the situation, the German soldiers began abandoning the iron coffins and fighting on foot, trying to steal the Ubers back into their hands.

It was entirely futile; even with Hydra's special weapons, they couldn't get close before being intercepted by John and his group of men.

John dealt personally and especially with all those with energy weapons in their hands.

In a short time, the Nazi army was cornered near the Ahr River, almost at the end of San Giorgio.

The Nazi army ran towards the bridge used to cross the river, their only escape route in this situation.

They needed to regroup and return to Uttenheim. But before they could do so, dozens of small explosions began to envelop the group of over 200 soldiers.

"What's happening!?" Rolf, the Captain (Hauptmann) who had been forced to take command of the soldiers still alive, couldn't help but shout in confusion as explosions seemingly came out of nowhere to engulf them.

He threw himself to the ground, trying to take cover, and watched as the partisan resistance assaulted his men, taking advantage of the chaos. He tried to aim to shoot, but a hand held the barrel of his weapon and bent its metal as if it were clay; his pupils contracted, and he turned to meet a pair of blue eyes looking at him with amusement.

"Now, I'll accept your surrender on my terms, or everyone here will die. I hope you can make a better decision than your Major," Rolf swallowed, sweat dripping from his forehead, nodded, and quickly dropped his weapon.

"I surrender!" he shouted so that the men near him could hear.

"We surrender!" he shouted again, and the German soldiers understood, starting to lower their weapons and shout the same words so that more and more of them would hear. Soon, the words of surrender began to spread throughout the battlefield.

John smiled and looked up at the sky, winking at Raven, who in her crow form had been the one to release dozens of grenades from the sky onto the German army, a homemade bombardment like no other.

Raven cawed and began to descend to the ground; her mission had been a success once again.

The resistance started gathering the German soldiers while cheering; they had won and taken San Giorgio in less than a day, and although several had died, they still had over a thousand men alive.

It was a completely successful battle.

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Note: The next update of SuperSoldier is now available on Patreon if you want to read the chapter in advance and get some other benefits, you can go and check it out, all the support received helps me a lot ;D

What do you think? Do you think I'm dragging out the battles too much? Should I hurry things along or take the time to develop the events of World War II? I don't want to go too fast, but I also don't want it to be slow and tedious.

This is just the beginning, so there's still plenty of room to maneuver. The world's story will change in unknown ways, and so will the course of World War II. I have some surprises in store that I think will be very exciting.

Don't forget to leave your likes, (power stones if they are on webnovel or kudos if you are on Ao3) I appreciate all the support ;D

Anyway, tell me what you think; as always, I take into account any comments and read them all.