Marvel : The great sage

Allied Base – Italy

The atmosphere in the Allied base was buzzing with energy. The rescue mission had been a success—over a dozen prisoners freed, a Hydra base destroyed, and the infamous Howling Commandos now officially assembled.

But the real victory?

Bucky Barnes was alive.

Inside the medical tent, Alex leaned against a crate, arms crossed as he watched Bucky sit on a cot, getting checked over by the medics. His best friend looked exhausted but managed to keep up his usual smirk.

"You two really took your time, huh?" Bucky muttered as a nurse cleaned a cut on his forehead.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "Had to make a dramatic entrance."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You should be thanking us, Buck."

Bucky snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for saving my ass." Then, he frowned slightly, lowering his voice. "Hydra… they were experimenting on us. On the prisoners."

Alex's expression hardened. He already suspected as much. The files they had recovered hinted at Dr. Arnim Zola's twisted work.

"Did they do anything to you?" Steve asked, concern clear in his tone.

Bucky hesitated, eyes flickering for a moment before shaking his head. "No. Just a lot of tests, but nothing stuck. I'm fine."

Alex didn't believe that for a second, but now wasn't the time to push.

They had won today—but Hydra wasn't done.

---

As Alex stepped out of the medical tent, he let out a deep breath.

"Great Sage, give me my current status."

A transparent screen materialized before his eyes, visible only to him.

> [Status Screen]

Name: Alexander Rogers

Age: 27

Race: Enhanced Human

Abilities:

Super Soldier Physiology (Partial)

Enhanced Strength, Speed, and Reflexes

Great Sage (Intelligent Analysis, Battle Calculation, Information Processing)

Combat Adaptation (Developing)

Current Condition: Stable

Recent Experience Gained: Moderate increase in battle efficiency

Mental Load: Low

Alex analyzed the stats, noting his combat adaptation was improving.

That last battle had pushed him. His reactions were faster, his movements sharper.

Colonel Phillips' Briefing

Inside the command tent, Colonel Phillips stood over a map, cigarette in hand. Around him, officers murmured, pointing at the marked locations of Hydra facilities.

When Steve and Alex walked in, the room quieted.

Phillips didn't waste time. "You two did good."

Coming from him? That was the equivalent of a medal.

"But we're not celebrating yet. Hydra's still got bases all over Europe, and now they know you're a real threat. They'll be tightening security."

Steve nodded. "Then we'll hit them harder."

Phillips smirked. "That's the plan, Rogers." He turned to Alex. "And you—you move damn fast for a rookie. I don't know what's in your blood, but I like it."

Alex just shrugged. "Good genes."

Phillips grunted. "Well, don't get cocky. Next time won't be this easy."

With that, he dismissed them.

Later that evening, as the base quieted down, a sleek black car rolled into camp. Soldiers turned, whispering as a tall, dark-haired man in a stylish suit stepped out.

Howard Stark.

The man oozed confidence as he adjusted his tie and took in the camp. "Well, isn't this charming?"

"Stark." Steve greeted him with a nod.

Howard grinned. "You're looking good, Rogers—both of you. I heard you boys have been causing Hydra a whole lot of headaches."

Alex smirked. "Just doing our job."

"Sure, sure. And I'm just a humble genius, philanthropist, and all-around good guy," Howard quipped, then turned serious. "I brought something for you."

He gestured to his car, where a large crate was being unloaded.

"New toys," he said, flashing a grin. "Including something special for you, Steve."

Alex glanced at his brother, already knowing what was inside.

The shield.