The world had changed in ways unseen by the public eye. Governments and intelligence agencies prided themselves on their ability to control narratives, to manipulate the flow of information. But there were ripples now—unexplainable disturbances, whispers of something new lurking in the dark.
And SHIELD was paying attention.
Maria Hill flipped through a pile of classified briefs, each more disturbing than the previous one. Unidentified agents had been operating in high-risk areas, taking no casualties except those who deserved it. No standard-issue weapons. No SHIELD procedures. No sign of any known group.
Except for one thing.
Aegis Protocol.
It was never uttered out loud. There was no captured voice saying allegiance, no markings on equipment or uniforms. But the words kept popping up in subtle but purposeful places. A compromised comms frequency, a scribbled graffiti on the walls of deserted Hydra facilities, even encrypted files found on breached enemy servers, all with the same two words. Aegis Protocol.
And then the operatives themselves.
Hill cut to a surveillance tape from a compromised location in Prague. The image was fuzzy, filled with static, but distinct enough to reveal what occurred. Three hostiles fired on a single figure, a black silhouette moving impossibly quickly. The bullets hardly even registered as the figure closed the distance in what amounted to the blink of an eye, disarmed all three with inhuman accuracy, and knocked them out cold with what could only be called surgical force.
No guns. Just raw, unadulterated strength and speed. And the worst part was...
That agent didn't seem to be the only one with the same abilities.
Hill reclined in her chair.
"They're enhanced. They looked like super-soldiers. Maybe ex-Red Room?" One of their analysts ventured.
"Or worse." Another growled.
Nick Fury, as ever, was unreadable. He'd been sitting there reading the reports in silence for an awkward length of time before finally grumbling, "Watch them, but don't fight. Not yet. Confirm the location of Russia's super-soldier if he's still in prison."
Hill understood what that meant. If Fury didn't want to fight, it was because he wasn't certain they could win.
---
Across the globe, Hydra was disintegrating.
In the secret passages of a clandestine Hydra complex, a group of high-ranking members that survived met. They had all watched it. Their complexes, breached. Their holdings, destroyed. Not by SHIELD who remained ignorant as ever. By something else.
The sole survivor of a similar raid in the past was seated before them, shaking. His body was shattered, his breathing labored, but his terror was greater than any wound.
"What did you see?" one of the Hydra officers spat.
The agent gulped. "Not men. Not soldiers. Monsters."
"Be precise."
The man hesitated, then fumbled for a blood-soaked laptop. He pressed a few keys, activating the only footage that had survived the raid.
The screen depicted chaos. Hydra agents scurrying, muzzle flashes in the darkened hallways. And then—a blur. A person moving too swiftly to follow, dodging between bullets, taking trained operatives out with superhuman strength. One Hydra agent attempted to throw a grenade.
The figure intercepted it. Crushed it.
Hydra's leaders looked at each other uncomfortably. Super-soldiers were nothing new to them. They had experimented, failed, and succeeded in various roles. But this?
This was something else.
Subconsciously, they didn't realize it, but it was the suit.
"What do we know about Aegis Protocol?" Someone finally broke the silence.
"Little to nothing. No allegiances known. No public record. Whoever they are, they're ghosts. But one thing's for sure." the officer paused before concluding. "They're making a statement. They're not hiding."
The words Aegis Protocol had been scrawled in bold, black lettering across the walls of every Hydra outpost that had fallen. Not as a badge of victory, but as a warning.
A declaration.
And Hydra did not know how to combat them.
"We don't have a choice but to awaken the Winter Soldier and stage a counterattack. We can't remain this passive."
The others nodded but still were not convinced. They are aware of the limitation of their last resort but acquiring enhanced people that was possibly distinct from the Winter Soldier fueled their greed. They're willing to risk more to counter threats to their organization, not to mention, larger actions will accordingly heighten the chance of alerting SHIELD of their presence.
By that time, chaos will surely prevail.
===
Ivan Vanko must have known hate more intimately than most men knew love.
He had been bred on it, fed it like it was all that there was. His father, Anton Vanko, had been a genius, a man who had assisted Howard Stark in the construction of the arc reactor and had been discarded like rubbish.
Shamed. Deported. Left to wither away in the cold, as Stark stared down at him, establishing an empire.
Anton perished in a dilapidated Russian tenement, drunk and angry, cursing the Stark name with his dying breath. Ivan had been holding his father's hand when he passed away, vowing to him that one day Stark would pay for what he had done.
And now?
Now it was time.
For years, he had reconstructed his father's pilfered research, working in secret, creating something strong enough to reduce Stark to his knees, his own mini arc reactor, an improved version from what was available to the public.
But unlike his father, Ivan didn't care about money or fame. He cared about revenge.
There was just one problem.
Tony Stark had vanished.
Not literally. The man was still there, still operating his business, still hitting the headlines—but he had disappeared from view. He no longer played the playboy billionaire, no longer displayed his genius for all to witness. And that made him difficult to kill.
So Vanko waited. Watched. He accessed subterranean networks, paid off information brokers, and eventually got his opportunity.
A charity gala.
It was flawless. Tony would never suspect a thing. No bodyguards in armor. No military escort. Just a billionaire faking humanity for one night.
Vanko grinned. He was going to incinerate that illusion to ashes.
The scheme was straightforward.
Vanko infiltrated the gala dressed as a catering staff member. He remained silent, unseen, waiting for the right moment. He observed as Tony Stark finally arrived.
The man stood easy, beer in hand, chuckling over something Pepper Potts had spoken. No guards. No body armor.
Arrogant.
Vanko waited for Stark to move toward the balcony, away from the action, away from people. He immediately followed after him.
With a sudden movement, Vanko shed his disguise and enabled his weapon. Twin electric whips snapped out, crackling with power.
Tony spun back to him.
Vanko smiled. "You lose."
Then Tony grasped the whip with his bare hand.
Vanko's smile broadened. "Idiot." The energy would course through his body, scorch through his nervous system in seconds.
But nothing happened.
Instead, the light of the whip began to dim. Vanko's sneer was gone. His arc reactor, his masterpiece, was draining energy.
Tony was absorbing it.
Vanko's body hardened as he figured the man in front of him was not normal or he has something on him that will produce the same outcome.
Tony breathed out, shook his head. "You really believed this was going to work? Believe it or not, I also know you're arriving here even before this event."
"This is a trap for me?" Vanko reeled backward. His weapons, his sole weapons, were worthless.
Tony smirked. "Trap? You're overestimating yourself."
A strong hand pulled Vanko in, and he was instantly suspended in the air, grabbed by Tony.
The last he remembered before passing out was Stark looking at him with slight disappointment.
---