SuperSoldier (SI-OC/MCU)

37: Ancient One

Pietro was a simple man, born Italian and raised as a rancher. His life in the countryside was always straightforward and, in a sense, even a bit boring.

At some point, the monotony began to wear on him, and like any young man with desires greater than himself, leaving his home became tempting. He longed to be something more, to explore other options.

His father, of course, hadn't been too pleased when he told him. There were arguments, fights, and shouting.

"You need to learn to appreciate what you have here, Pietro! Many men would kill for this, don't you see?!" his father had said, pointing at their home. And like a fool, Pietro had laughed in his face.

It wasn't until later, when the war began, that he understood his father had always been right.

He wished he could apologize to him.

"Hey! It's your turn!" The words interrupted Pietro's thoughts, snapping him back to reality. He quickly pulled himself together and nodded toward his companion. The man returned the gesture, and soon Pietro assumed his duty as one of the base guards.

As he walked through the hive of activity that the place had become, Pietro couldn't help but tighten his grip on the weapon in his hand, his bloodshot eyes carefully scanning his surroundings.

Joining the Italian army had never been his desire, but, as with so many things in his life, the choice had been beyond his real control.

Even so, he couldn't complain too much. Unlike other, less fortunate bastards, one could say the cards had been dealt in his favor. Having a post as a guard, while not glamorous, was undoubtedly much safer than being sent to the front lines.

Or so it should have been.

"This should be good enough, right?" he muttered through clenched teeth, looking around to make sure the area was clear enough.

He had been told he needed to get as close as possible to the base where the team of the new international organization called Sword was stationed, but that wasn't as easy to accomplish as some might think.

The location, though close to the allied army base, had its own independent security measures. If he were caught getting too close, things would undoubtedly go badly for him.

"But it's not like I have another choice," he muttered to himself with a bitter laugh, letting out a long sigh.

Swallowing hard, Pietro rummaged through his clothes until he finally pulled out a piece of paper, unfolding it to reveal a very peculiar drawing.

He didn't know what it was or why "they" wanted him to do what he was about to do, but one thing he did know was that he couldn't refuse.

He had already lost enough thanks to this war. He didn't want to lose anything else.

"I'm sorry..." Somehow, he felt compelled to say it.

Then he unsheathed his knife and looked at the palm of his hand. He hesitated for a second but finally went through with it, letting the blade pierce his flesh, drawing a long line across his skin, and causing blood to drip out.

"Damn it!" he grimaced at the pain but didn't want to delay any longer. Kneeling down, he studied the strange drawing on the paper, analyzing its composition. Once he was confident he understood it well enough, he began creating a larger version on the ground using his blood.

"Damn lunatics," he cursed as his work slowly took shape.

It wasn't perfect, of course—Pietro was far from being anything like an artist—but his steady hand made the replica come remarkably close to the drawing on the paper.

He wondered if that was why they had chosen him and not someone else.

When he finished and looked at what he had created, he couldn't suppress a twist of unease within himself—a primal instinct telling him he should undo it, that he should stop it. But he was too much of a coward to do that. Instead, he stood up, wrapped his still-bleeding hand, and began to walk away, his steps growing faster with every moment.

And with no one there to witness it, the blood-drawn symbol began to glow in a sinister, ethereal shade of blue.

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"It seems the time for our meeting has finally come, Captain," The Ancient One—The guardian of the world's safety, Master of the mystical arts, and the greatest danger John had ever faced.

"I thought... you'd come sooner," he admitted, relaxing the defensive stance he had instinctively taken. He didn't know how their voices were carrying across the vacuum of space, but that seemed irrelevant at the moment. No, the truth was that countless other questions began flooding his mind in rapid succession.

Hearing him, the Ancient One allowed a faint smile to touch her lips before her expression returned to its initial stoicism.

"I considered it. I should have done so the moment you set foot in this world. But I couldn't..."

Her words caused John to furrow his brow.

"You know about me?" he asked, a tinge of uncertainty and doubt creeping into his voice despite his effort to suppress it.

The Ancient One shrugged and replied, "Not as much as you might think. I noticed your arrival, of course—after all, my duty is to prevent forces from beyond this world from affecting Earth. But this time, the situation has completely overwhelmed me."

She then looked at him—not a normal gaze but one filled with open curiosity, as though she were analyzing something she could barely comprehend.

"I tried to prevent it, you know? Your existence, the future I had foreseen—the future I knew was the correct one—was suddenly corrupted, destroyed. And even with all my power, I couldn't do anything to fix it."

Her voice carried a trace of exhaustion, as though recalling that moment was like reliving a grueling battle.

And in every sense, it had been. Correcting the course of time, after all, wasn't something that could be done with a single attempt. No, erasing the existence standing before her had become an impossibility that trapped her in a temporal loop for more years than she could count.

"And is this another attempt?" John couldn't help but ask, his doubt evident. From the sound of things, it seemed she wasn't exactly a fan of his. If a fight was about to break out, he wasn't sure he could win.

"No... no," she said, shaking her head. "I realized that trying to eliminate you is impossible. Perhaps it took me too long, but I finally accepted it. And when I did, many things changed."

The Ancient One then shifted her gaze to Earth, as though looking at something priceless.

"The future I once knew ceased to exist, and even I have begun to forget it. It's not something that can be helped, for this is beyond merely a temporal shift. And that... is more dangerous than you can imagine."

John furrowed his brow at this explanation. He didn't entirely understand it—he had never been a big fan of anything related to time. Hell, the most he knew about it was from watching 'Back to the Future' as a kid, and he doubted that was reliable information.

As if sensing his confusion, the Ancient One elaborated further.

"If you like, you can imagine it as a continuous, unbroken line, with key points in time—events that, one way or another, must happen to preserve the universe's stability."

The Ancient One raised her hand, and with a flash, a yellow light glowed at her fingertip. She drew a straight line in the void of space and then created points along it that shone brighter.

"Of course, it's not as linear or strict as it may seem. This path can tolerate some changes, as long as the events that are meant to occur still happen. But if things deviate too much, well... that's when the branching begins."

As she said this, something happened. Lines upon lines began splitting off from a midpoint in the original line, forming a structure that grew like a tree full of budding branches.

"Like... parallel timelines?" John asked. He had heard about that concept, though not in great detail.

The Ancient One nodded.

As much as he tried, John couldn't see why this worried her so much. Sure, a new reality might be created, but was that really such a bad thing? As if reading his thoughts, the Ancient One sighed.

"You don't understand, though it's not your fault. Not many people know this, after all, but the universe, while constantly expanding, is not truly 'infinite' in the strictest sense of the word. This existence has a finite set of fundamental resources, and with each fragmentation, those resources are 'divided.' "And if the growth isn't controlled, it becomes exponential and eventually unsustainable, leading to an inevitable degradation and collapse of the fundamental structures that uphold reality."

To demonstrate, the golden "tree" that had been growing before them began to collapse from the initial point of fragmentation, as if the weight of its countless branches had become unbearable.

"Now I get it," John said, a worried expression forming on his face. Though it would be a lie to say he fully understood, he grasped the key points well enough to realize why this was a problem.

"Normally, I ensure this doesn't happen. While it's impossible to control every branch, it is possible to limit their number to a sustainable amount—or at least, it was, until you arrived. Or more precisely... until 'it' brought you here."

John's eyes widened as an image was projected before him—the image of a figure he instantly recognized, as that person was responsible for his arrival in this world.

V

"I have dealt with countless extradimensional invaders, dark and profane gods, creatures from unnameable existential planes, but of all of them, that thing has been the worst," the Ancient One's voice was deep yet tense, with a trace of fear buried within it.

"He was here?!" John asked in alarm, as he had believed V had simply abandoned him in this world without further interference. But then he remembered that letter and its contents, which he had not paid enough attention to.

"He did more than just be here. Not only did he modify the future, but he also tampered with the past, completely altering reality to his will. By the time I realized and tried to stop him, the damage was already done. In an instant, the universe branched into millions of parallel timelines and kept growing out of control…"

The Ancient One then fell silent, her expression becoming distant and somber, her eyes clouding over as if recalling that moment brought forth an inexplicable melancholy.

"Can you imagine watching the universe die before your very eyes?"

No, John could not.

The Ancient One then laughed, a joyless and weary laugh.

"It was horrible, so terribly horrible, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

John frowned; he could sense that the Ancient One did not seem to be in the most stable state of mind despite her outward appearance. In her eyes, he caught a glimpse of something unfamiliar, something manic.

But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished.

"I'm probably the only one who remembers what happened because I was the only one who survived—though not by my own skill. After that... well, I'll let you see for yourself."

She then turned toward him, and only at that moment did John fully notice the most powerful mystical object the Ancient One had hanging around her neck.

The Eye of Agamotto.

She performed a series of hand movements, activating the artifact so it would open. But when it did, he did not see a magnificent green light.

Instead, only a gray, cracked gem was revealed.

The Time Stone was broken.

"How...!" John asked, completely taken by surprise, disbelief clear in his eyes.

The Ancient One laughed again, then sighed and shook her head.

"I don't know exactly, but I have an idea. Do you remember what I said earlier? About how I tried to prevent your existence? That was after that 'thing' finished what it came here to do. When it finally left you 'alone,' I thought... I thought that even if I couldn't stop the first event, I could at least do something to keep everything on the right path," the Ancient One grimaced.

"Clearly, I was wrong." She then pulled out the gray, cracked gem, holding it between her fingers with visible regret.

"When the universe came to its end and, in a manner of speaking, 'reset,' I didn't realize at first that the only reason I survived was because of the Time Stone. Its power protected me, but not without a price. The future, the past, and everything tied to them were forcibly altered, leading to its destruction and the birth of something new. If I'm not mistaken, there must be another Time Stone—a new one born from the change, lost somewhere in the universe. Meanwhile, this one was merely a remnant, and its power was nothing more than the fragments of what was once something almost limitless..." She then clenched her fingers, causing it to shatter into pieces like fragile crystal, which began to fall toward the planet.

"Fragments of power I used carelessly."

At that moment, she had been so angry, desperate, and perhaps even a little unhinged.

She wanted to lash out, to make the one responsible pay, but he was gone. So she directed her anger at something else—someone else.

That's how she found herself trapped in an endless time loop. No matter what she tried to remove John from the equation, everything always ended up going catastrophically wrong one way or another. If he didn't become Captain America, humanity inevitably faced extinction.

If it wasn't nuclear weapons, it was Hydra. And if it wasn't Hydra, it was some other force. But regardless of the means, the outcome was always the same.

It took time, but she eventually accepted that John had to take on the role. When she did and finally broke free of the loop, the Time Stone lost all its remaining power.

And without its strength and protection, the Ancient One began to fully integrate into this new reality. Her memories of the previous universe started to blur, though not entirely. She still retained some fragments—mostly memories of the past—but her visions of the future, the events she knew 'should' happen... those began to fade away, as if they had been false from the very beginning.

She no longer even remembered who was supposed to have been the real Captain America.

Although knowing that no longer made much sense at this point.

"But I didn't come here just to tell you all this. I actually came because something else is happening," the Ancient One then returned to the present and looked at John with a serious expression.

"When I said I should have spoken to you earlier but couldn't, I meant it literally. That 'thing' placed a sort of 'protection,' so to speak, around you. I don't fully understand its nature, but its purpose is clear—to prevent me from helping you."

Hearing this, John blinked in confusion. Why would V do that? He couldn't understand it right away, but as he thought about it, a reason came to mind.

"He wants me to do this alone, doesn't he? Wait, no… that doesn't seem right," he shook his head and spoke again, still somewhat unsure of his deduction. "If that were the case, I wouldn't have been able to form my team. He wants me to do this the way Captain America would have done it, doesn't he?"

The Ancient One nodded.

"More or less. I don't know him as well as you do, so I can't say much. But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that this 'protection' isn't eternal. Its duration seems to have a time limit, and if my calculations are correct, that should be around the time the Second World War ends."

Huh?

"If that's the case, how are you talking to me now?" His question was valid. After all, as far as he knew, the war was still ongoing—unless Germany had somehow imploded while he was traveling through space or something.

"It's because you're no longer on Earth," she replied simply, and John understood—or at least deduced.

The protection seemed to be limited to events on the planet and didn't extend beyond it. Why this was the case escaped his understanding, but it was probably because V didn't anticipate him leaving Earth while World War II was still underway.

After all, his mission was for him to assume the role of Captain America during the war and do it "better," so to speak—something obviously impossible to achieve off-planet. There would be no reason for him to leave Earth unless he wanted to be dragged to hell for failing.

A fate that was clearly not part of his plan.

"I see. It seems this whole situation is more complicated than I initially imagined… thank you for telling me."

He hadn't thought his arrival in this world would bring so many consequences and changes. In some ways, he felt a little guilty, but not overly so. What was done was done. All he could do now was move forward and fulfill his role as it had been established.

"Maybe you'll take back your gratitude when I tell you the mess you've gotten yourself into," her words made John, who had just started to relax, tense up once again.

"When I sensed you leaving Earth, I decided to speak with you immediately to warn you. Hydra… or rather, the Red Skull, is dabbling with forces he doesn't understand—or perhaps he does but simply doesn't care. The point is, he's begun using the power of the Tesseract to contact dark beings, primordial forces that could ultimately destroy the world. And while it is my duty to stop such threats, you now know I can't interfere."

The Sorcerer Supreme, protector of Earth, master of the mystic arts, reduced to watching helplessly from the sidelines.

Anyone aware of her immense power would have been utterly horrified to witness this.

And John knew it because that was exactly how he felt.

"Well... shit," John could only mutter as he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, wondering how he was supposed to deal with this.

Although he had gained new powers, it was one thing to hit something hard enough until it gave way, but dealing with mystical beings? From other dimensions? That required more than just brute force, and anyone with a bit of "common sense" would know that. John had never planned to face such threats, so at this moment, he had no idea what to do or how to prepare.

He was freaking Captain America, not freaking Dumbledore!

How was he supposed to fight beings like these if, for example, his enemy turned out to be a damn ghostly entity capable of becoming intangible and possessing people to fight?

And that was just a cheap example. The beings the Red Skull was planning to bargain with were probably far worse. .

Or at least that's what he imagined, because of course, his damn brain decided to start being paranoid right now, conjuring up the worst possibilities.

He swore to God, if he had to face fucking Cthulhu, he'd make V pay for it, even if it was the last damn thing he did.

Seeing his concern, the Ancient One sighed and turned her gaze back to Earth.

She herself had been extremely stressed since being forced into this situation.

"Is there really nothing you can do? What if you teach me a few things or give me some talisman or enchanted artifact?" John asked suddenly, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

The Ancient One smiled faintly before shaking her head.

"If it were that simple, why would this be a problem? If I give you anything—a talisman or an artifact—the protection will render it useless the moment you return to Earth, at least until the war is over. On the other hand, while teaching you is an option, time is not on my side this time. By the time I finish instructing you in even the most basic concepts of the mystic arts, the Red Skull could already have annihilated or conquered the world."

Of course, she couldn't give him even a sliver of hope, could she? John thought bitterly, but then his eyes lit up as another idea came to mind.

"What about other sorcerers? If you can't help me, what if you lend me some of your apprentices?"

Hearing his suggestion, the Ancient One nodded.

"That idea had already occurred to me, but it won't be as beneficial as you might think. While skilled, they lack the experience and strength I possess. Many would likely only serve as cannon fodder, and those who could truly make a difference would likely find themselves in a fierce battle and outnumbered at the same time."

It wasn't exactly what John wanted to hear, but he supposed it was better than nothing.

"The only option you have to prevent this battle from becoming the end of humanity is to end it quickly. You must destroy Hydra before the Red Skull manages to bring into existence something strong enough to defeat you. For now, he's still testing the waters, probing some limits, but he won't do so forever. So, we must..."

The Ancient One abruptly fell silent, cutting off her words as her brow furrowed deeply. Then, an expression of disbelief formed on her face.

"You must leave!" Her urgent voice startled him, But before John could ask what was happening, she moved her hand in a circular motion and in the emptiness of space, a portal began to open before them.

Seeing a demonstration of real "magic" in person was incredible, but when John saw the image on the other side, his pupils shrank to the extreme, and without a second's hesitation, he dashed through the portal at full speed.

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Note:

Well, well, this chapter took a while because it was very difficult to write! Probably one of the chapters that has been the hardest for me to come up with and plan, to be honest. But finally, after a great effort, I managed to finish it in a way that makes me feel satisfied.

Of course, it's not perfect, but I think it's decent enough.

So… you know the drill! Comment and let me know what you think—I'll be reading your feedback closely. ;D

If you want to support me you can do it through my Patreon ( patreon.com/EmmaCruzader )