ARMEE CAMP
POV: Garp
Two weeks have passed since Stark's Expo, and I've devoted myself once again to my new favorite pastime: observing the enigma that is Steven Rogers during his training. I can't put it any other way—this man fascinates me beyond measure.
He was clearly the weakest of all the recruits going through basic training. He could lift the least weight and would cough up a lung after just a few kilometers of marching. He was small and just maybe of age. Yet not once did I see him give up. Like a man possessed, he just kept going. His will burned within him like the sun in the sky.
And the most fascinating part? Time and again, he managed to outshine all the other recruits with his cleverness and quick thinking. Just yesterday, he made his entire company look foolish when they were tasked with retrieving a flag from a pole. While everyone else struggled to climb it in vain, he patiently waited and thought it through. In the end, he simply lowered the flag from the pole. I'll never forget the looks on his comrades' and the sergeant's faces... I laughed so hard, I nearly gave away my position during my little voyeuristic observation. I surprised myself; I don't think I've laughed like that since I was a child—deep and hearty, with my whole being.
Steve Rogers was a man I found myself respecting more and more, especially when I thought back to his recruitment two weeks ago. I still remember the look in his eyes, filled with fear, when I played along with Abraham's little game. We pretended to have discovered that he had enlisted under different aliases in multiple districts. I was to play the big, intimidating Vice Admiral and scare him a bit. When I wanted to scare someone, I could certainly do it. Being 2.87 meters tall and a mountain of muscle had its few advantages.
I'll admit, I enjoyed the role a bit—at least until Rogers broke and confronted me head-on.
"YES, EVEN SOMEONE LIKE ME WANTS TO SERVE MY COUNTRY! WHAT'S SO WRONG WITH THAT? WHY DOES EVERYONE ALWAYS LOOK AT ME WITH PITY AND DISBELIEF? YOU'RE A COWARD, VICE ADMIRAL! WITH YOUR SIZE, YOU STAY SAFE HERE AT HOME WHILE OTHERS RISK THEIR LIVES FOR YOU! IF I WERE YOU, I WOULDN'T HIDE! LOOK AT ME... I'M BARELY 1.60 METERS AND NOTHING BUT SKIN AND BONES! AND YET THERE'S NOTHING I'D RATHER DO THAN SERVE OUT THERE FOR THE PEOPLE! AND NOW YOU'RE GOING TO LOCK ME UP FOR IT... WAIT, WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?"
Those were his words, if I'm not mistaken. Abraham broke character first and couldn't hold back his laughter. I also ended up smiling despite myself. Rogers' expression when Abraham explained the whole situation was just priceless.
And now Rogers is here, a prime candidate for the Super Soldier Serum. The only one who's not fully on board with him is Phillips. He would prefer one of his own soldiers, but I can tell that even he is slowly falling under the spell of the enigma that is Steven Rogers.
I just watched as the recruits practiced hand-to-hand combat techniques one-on-one. Rogers kept getting knocked to the ground by every new opponent, and it seemed like his adversaries hit him harder each time. Yet, like a machine, he kept getting back up, his technique improving little by little, even as his frail body held him back. Every time he stood, it was with renewed determination and courage, only to be beaten down and laughed at again.
'How can so much courage and willpower fit inside such a small and weak body?'
I heard the sergeant bark, "Alright, that's enough for today, men! Hit the showers, then get your field rations! Rogers, you were the worst, so you'll clean up the equipment!"
The recruits filed out of the small training hall one by one until only Rogers remained. As soon as he was alone, his body collapsed like a sack of wet potatoes. It seemed he had been standing by sheer willpower alone.
I sprinted toward him, fearing the worst. I didn't want the death of a young man on my conscience, especially one I had helped bring into the army. Abraham's scolding still rang in my ears from when he admonished me for not helping Rogers in the alley. According to Peggy, it was one of the funniest moments of her life—watching a giant like me get verbally dressed down by a much smaller man, standing there like a schoolboy caught sneaking a peek into the girls' locker room.
But my pace slowed as I heard quiet sobbing from the heap of exhaustion on the ground. I made a decision and continued walking, more slowly this time.
Rogers heard me and looked up with red, tear-streaked eyes. He quickly wiped them away and struggled to get to his feet, trembling.
"It's not what it looks like! Sir, Vice Admiral, Sir! I just needed to catch my breath, and I'll get back to work right away, Sir!" he stammered, forcing himself onto one knee.
"Take it easy, Rogers... stay down. I saw everything, and you've earned yourself a little break. Besides, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute... And Rogers? Please, just call me Garp. I've had enough of all this military jargon after nearly four months here at the base."
"Steve!"
"?!"
"Please call me Steve or Rogers, but not 'boy.' I'm a man, and I want to be treated like everyone else here."
"Alright, Rogers. I actually just wanted to ask you one question... Why?"
"Sorry, I'm not sure I understand, Sir... I mean, Garp…"
"Why do you keep fighting? Why do you put yourself through all of this? To become a strong soldier through the doctor's serum? To kill in the war? You said you wanted to fight for people who can't fight for themselves... but in the last war, and in this one, I learned that war always turns you into a killer. So, my question is: Why?"
Rogers fell silent, pondering my question. A few moments later, he hesitated before answering, "Honestly, I don't know. And I know that doesn't sound good, but I want to be truthful. I know the war will probably turn me into a killer, or maybe even a corpse. But what I do know is that I can't just sit at home while the world around me goes to hell. Every day, thousands die on the front lines—thousands who may have children and families waiting for them back home.
In the first World War, I was one of those children... only my father didn't come back from Europe.
Before he went to war, he told me, 'With great power comes great responsibility.' Back then, I thought he was talking about physical strength, that the strong should protect the weak. But now, I think differently. It's not just about physical power, or even political power like some people think.
I believe it's about the power to make choices. Every person has that power. And I've decided to try to make this world a little better every day. Especially now, when it feels like the world is falling off a cliff, I've made the decision to fight for the good in it. No matter how small that good may be, no matter how little my efforts may seem... I will keep fighting."
Every one of his words hit me like a hammer blow. His speech touched something deep within me that I had thought was lost. It was hope. Hope that the world of tomorrow wouldn't be so cruel and unjust. A belief that there was still good and justice out there. Suddenly, for a moment, my Observation Haki expanded from one kilometer to two, then to ten, then thirty, and finally, it encompassed all of New York and the surrounding area. I could feel the hopes of the people, the fears for the future, and the innocent will of thousands of children. All of it crashed into me for an instant before fading as quickly as it came. I breathed heavily, and tears formed in my eyes. What had I forgotten in my self-loathing?
One of Rogers' sentences resonated with the dream in my heart: 'And I've made the decision to fight for the good in this world. No matter how small that good may be, no matter how little my efforts may seem... I will keep fighting!'
'My dream... I will fight for it... I will make it my life's purpose, and if I fail, then so be it... I will fight to ensure that everyone in this world experiences justice!'
"With great power comes great responsibility," I murmured, turning away from Rogers without another word. I walked away, too deep in thought to notice Rogers' utterly bewildered expression.
ERKSINE'S LAB
POV: Garp
I walked into Abraham's lab and took my usual seat—an armchair far too small for me, from where I had a good view of the various monitors. Even though I didn't understand much about science, I wanted to at least keep an eye on what the doctor was working on.
I silently watched the doctor work for a few minutes before speaking up, "I think my willpower got stronger today."
"Ah, how very interesting," the doctor replied, turning to look at me. "So, you'd like to run some new tests? I have time..."
"Sure. I feel so much better than I did just a few hours ago... as if a weight has been lifted off my entire being."
As I went through the various tests, I continued talking to Abraham.
"What led to this increase in your willpower?" he asked, and I told him about my conversation with Rogers. Then, I asked, "He's the right one, isn't he? You've been waiting for someone like Rogers for the serum, haven't you?"
"Ah, an interesting question. Do you know what I believe is the greatest weakness and, at the same time, the greatest strength of my serum?"
I shook my head, listening as I started sprinting on a treadmill.
"The serum doesn't just change the body of the soldier. It also amplifies character traits. A bad person would become a true monster. A good person, like Rogers, could become a real hero—selfless, kind, empathetic. That's why I stopped testing the serum on people. I'm afraid of creating another monster."
"Another?" I asked between deep breaths, as I began to boost my speed with Haki. Gradually, the speedometer climbed higher and higher until I broke my previous record by a wide margin.
"Johann Schmidt... the current leader of Hydra. Before the war, he was an assistant of mine who volunteered for the first human trial. Unfortunately, the serum wasn't ready, and the experiment went horribly wrong. He became stronger and smarter... but his face was horribly disfigured. And he became extremely evil. He had been an ambitious young man before, but afterward, he turned into what he is today—a bloodthirsty monster who would go to any lengths to achieve his goals."
"That wasn't mentioned in the briefing..."
"Oops, I guess I let a military secret slip... better keep that to yourself."
I gave him a serious look but said nothing further about it. Next, we tested the precise range of my Observation Haki and whether I could use my Emperor Haki.
"If I didn't trust you, Garp, I'd almost think you were lying about your Emperor Haki. Silly name, by the way. But congratulations, your willpower can now be described with a value of 2.5. You've become significantly stronger..."
I glanced at the test results and nodded, lost in thought.
"So... is he the right one?" i asked.
"I think so..."
"Than what's your plan to convince the Colonel about Rogers?"
Abraham chuckled, "A plan? I don't have one... Rogers will show him that he's the right choice himself. I might give him a little nudge, but that's all. The Colonel would see through any plan anyway..."
Then he looked at me with a very serious expression and said, "That's also the reason why you were never considered for the serum. The thoughts you shared with me were far too dark and full of hatred. Hatred for the world..."
I gazed into the dark world of my thoughts and murmured softly, "That was probably for the best." Yet, in the midst of that darkness, there was now a light since my conversation with Rogers—slowly and steadily driving away the shadows in my mind.
ARMY CAMP
POV: Garp
Another month had passed. Abraham was spending more and more time holed up in his lab, preparing everything with Stark for the culmination of Project Rebirth. For the past month, we had been commuting daily to the heart of New York, where everything was being set up in a secret SSR base.
Stark had built a futuristic-looking capsule that would pump the serum into the chosen soldier. Combined with an intense exposure to Vita-Rays, the soldier would be reborn as a Super Soldier.
The only problem was that Phillips still wasn't convinced about Steve Rogers. He could only see Rogers' physical weakness, paying little attention to the mentally strong man behind the frail exterior.
When I wasn't in New York with the doc, I spent a lot of time with Steve. What can I say? The kid had grown on me. His strong will, and especially his naïve honesty, had slowly broken through the darkness in my heart, and he had become a good friend. According to Abraham, who had taken on the role of my unofficial therapist, Rogers was having a very positive effect on my mental health.
By now, I was starting to notice it myself. I laughed a lot, like I used to as a child. Rogers, with his quirky and naïve ways, was genuinely funny. Peggy would often join us, and it was obvious that Rogers had a thing for the pretty Brit, though she seemed to look at him more like a little brother.
Today was finally the day a decision would be made for Project Rebirth. I sat with Phillips, Peggy, and Abraham in a military jeep, watching the twenty recruits who had made it to the final round of selection. They were currently demonstrating their physical abilities, performing jumping jacks, push-ups, and squats in typical military fashion.
Thanks to Abraham's nomination, Rogers had also made it into the final twenty, but given the nature of the exercises, he wasn't making a great impression. He was far behind the others in the number of repetitions for each exercise.
"You're not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?" the Colonel asked the doc.
"I'm more than thinking about it. He is the clear choice, in my opinion," replied Abraham.
"When you brought a 90-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought, 'What the hell.' Maybe he'd be useful to you, like a gerbil. I never thought you'd actually pick him! You stick a needle in that kid's arm, and it'll go right through him!"
The Colonel watched Rogers' weak physical performance and practically spat out, "He's making me cry!"
"You know we shouldn't be selecting purely based on physical strength... have you forgotten about Schmidt?" Abraham shot back.
I listened to their back-and-forth while half-paying attention to Peggy, who was mercilessly putting the recruits through their paces.
"I've come to believe Rogers is the right choice too. The kid has something special," I added.
"Aw, hell, not you too, Garp!" Phillips swore, then continued, "Why not Hodge? He aced every test. He's big. He's fast. And he follows orders to the letter..."
"And he's a giant asshole," I retorted.
"He's a soldier!" Phillips countered.
"He's a bully," Abraham interjected.
The Colonel sighed and said, "Unfortunately, you don't win wars with kindness..." He paused, picked up a fake grenade from the jeep, and continued, "You win them with courage!" He then tossed the grenade among the twenty recruits and shouted, "GRENADE!"
Startled, the recruits scattered in different directions, doing everything they could to get as far away from the grenade as possible. All except one—Steve Rogers. He ran in the opposite direction and threw himself onto the grenade, trying to shield others from a potential explosion with his body.
"Get out of here! Everybody run!" he yelled, attempting to cover as much of the grenade as he could.
The doc looked at Phillips with a grin that bordered on smug satisfaction, and I couldn't help but chuckle. When Rogers glanced over at us with a bewildered expression and asked, "Was that some kind of test?" I burst into a deep, hearty laugh.
"Bwahaha! Bwahahahaha!"
The Colonel knew when he was beaten and finally conceded, "Alright, Rogers will be the first... it's not like we're only getting one Super Soldier... soon, every one of these recruits will follow suit! Let's see if Rogers is still at the bottom of the food chain then..."
Abraham winked at me and whispered, "See... I told you I wouldn't need a plan!" My laughter echoed once more throughout the army camp, much to the annoyance of the Colonel, who had heard everything. But even he couldn't resist and eventually chuckled along.
(TO BE CONTINUED)