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(General P.O.V)
Dr. Abraham Erskine adjusted his glasses as he sat at his desk, the early morning light filtering through the window of Camp Lehigh's main lab.
The lab was alive with the usual buster of science, most notably the crackling of the Vita Ray pod.
Erskine's focus wasn't on the experiments. It was on his report—one he had rewritten countless times in the past week.
His pen hovered over the page as he glanced toward the far side of the room.
Bond, now Second Lieutenant, was assisting Stark in calibrating the Vita Ray Chamber.
His army uniform's sleeves were rolled up, revealing arms that seemed even larger than they had been just weeks ago. All this at just 15 years old, if Lieutenant Carter were to be believed.
A boy with the mind and physique of a fully grown man. It was unbelievable.
But even amongst men, Bond was a different breed. Relentless—whether working in the lab, training recruits, or exercising, Bond pushed himself to extremes that seemed... unnatural.
Erskine exhaled slowly, returning to his notes, his thoughts heavier than the pen in his grip. Which had finally started moving across the blank page.
1943,
November 7th,
9.00 a.m.
("Second Lieutenant James Bond has proven to be an extraordinary individual—both in mind and body. His contributions to the Super Soldier Program are invaluable, and his out-of-the-box insights have refined aspects of the serum and the Vita Ray process that Howard and I would not have considered alone. All these accomplishments are enough to print the name 'James Bond' in history books and yet...yet, there is something about Bond that I find... unique.")
Erskine paused, tapping his pen against the desk. His instincts told him that the next part of his report, would put Bond at risk if anyone else were to read the report and believe it.
("Throughout history, special individuals have existed. Immortals, Men and Women with unimaginable PERSONAL power. Rare as chicken teeth. Less than a hundred exist each generation. I was lucky to come across one such during my younger days. He was a man with the ability to absorb various types of energy in raw form without getting annihilated from the inside. He could unleash inferno explosions at a scale greater than most explosives. A Human Bomb. These individuals became the inspiration of the Super Soldier Serum- a pale imitation of Gods walking among men.")
("I suspected early on that Bond may be one such individual. He possesses latent physical attributes that set him apart. To confirm my suspicions, I discreetly tested his blood, under the pretext of collecting samples from multiple individuals for serum optimization. What I discovered was extraordinary: Bond's DNA contains an additional gene absent in every other sample I have studied, just like 'that' man. But while 'he' could manipulate energy, this unique gene appears to grant Bond unparalleled adaptability and growth potential. Even if he's not aware, Bond may represent the next evolution of humankind—a mutant.")
Erskine leaned back in his chair, recalling the feats he had witnessed over the past month.
("In my time here, I have seen Bond achieve feats that defy logic. During training sessions, he lifts and carries a fallen log that five men can not even budge. He has leaped distances of over 10 meters with ease, broken three punching bags in just three weeks, and completed a 20-mile marathon in full gear without so much as breaking a sweat. What's more, his physique seems to be changing rapidly. In mere weeks, he has grown taller, his shoulders broader, his muscles denser—as if his body is adapting to the increasing demands he places on it. His fast learning capabilities point to his mind adapting in conjunction with his physique, explaining why he his intelligence has advanced so rapidly.")
Erskine tapped the pen against his lips, a spark of envy blooming within him. Quickly discarding the useless emotion, he went on to write the most troubling and tantalizing conclusion.
("The Super Soldier Serum is designed to enhance a subject to the limit of their genetic potential. For someone like Bond, who appears to have no limit, the serum could frighteningly elevate him to a state beyond anything we could imagine—a 'super super soldier,' as Stark might call it. More than a pale copy of a God, he would be Almighty among men.")
Erskine sighed, glancing back at Bond.
("And yet, he refuses. Bond's principles, his refusal to tamper with what he calls the 'natural order,' prevent him from accepting the serum. It is a loss for humanity, though perhaps it is for the best. Power such as his would be difficult for any man to wield responsibly. But still, I wonder—what would Bond become if he embraced what he is?")
Erskine set down his pen and folded his hands. The answer, he feared, would remain a mystery.
---
The bustling streets of Queens were alive with energy as Erskine and Bond arrived at the Stark Expo.
Bright lights illuminated the night, and a cacophony of cheers greeted Howard Stark as he demonstrated his latest invention—a flying car prototype that promptly sputtered and crashed into the stage.
"Stick to grounded technology, Stark," Bond muttered, smirking.
Erskine, however, was distracted.
His eyes were settled on a thin, pale figure arguing with a recruitment officer at a nearby booth.
The man's clothes hung off his slight frame like a child wearing his father's uniform, yet his body language was defiant. And the light in his eyes...the same unshakeable confidence in Bond's.
"That's him, our Super Soldier." Erskine said, nudging Bond.
Bond raised an eyebrow at the thin fellow. "Him? You've got to be joking."
Erskine shook his head with a smile, tugging Bond forward. "Come. Let us meet him."
As they approached, the young man turned, startled by the towering presence of Bond and the kind but intense gaze of Erskine.
"Steve Rogers?" Erskine asked eyeing the form on the table.
"Yes, sir," Steve replied, standing at attention despite his diminutive stature.
"Why do you wish to join the fight?" Erskine asked.
Steve hesitated, then said with quiet conviction, "Because I don't like bullies, sir. No matter where they're from."
Bond folded his arms, his tone dripping with skepticism. "You barely weigh enough to carry a rifle. What makes you think you'll last five minutes in a war zone?"
Steve didn't flinch. "I'll find a way."
Erskine smiled, his decision made. "You are exactly what we are looking for."
Bond, unconvinced, muttered under his breath, "We'll see about that."