𑀝τμɞ Рσɠжερс//Stuckey

Panic reigned at the Avengers' headquarters. The Winter Soldier was about to appear in New York, and the Avengers would be his first victims.

“Steve,” a voice full of amazement sounded, “how does he even exist?”

"We found footage of his murders in Monaco," Stark replied, showing the video on his laptop. The screen came to life, revealing a merciless choreography of death.

"He's responsible for around six hundred murders," Natasha added, looking up from her examination of the dossier. Her gaze held the cold, professional assessment.

Mission Day. You and your ghostly minions are already in a furious dance with the Avengers. Your target is Steve Rogers. In the midst of the battle, your mask is torn off, revealing your face

"Bucky?!" Rogers exhaled, his gaze full of shock and hope.

All eyes turned to you, frozen in anticipation. "Bucky"... The name echoed in the depths of your consciousness, painfully familiar and yet alien. (Steve had given you that nickname back in the 1940s, during their friendship. But Hydra had mercilessly erased all your memories, brainwashing you like all its soldiers, depriving them of their past, depriving them of themselves.)

"Who the hell, Bucky?" you growled, pointing the gun at his heart. His eyes were filled with icy cold.