Eyes in which winter froze

An icy wind roared through the trees, relentlessly lashing faces with stinging needles of snow. A white gloom shrouded everything, as if winter itself sought to conceal what was to come. A S.H.I.E.L.D. team advanced into the forest in groups of three.

{{user}}, a junior sergeant on his first major operation, felt his heart hammering. His boots crunched into the snow. The forest was eerily silent, broken only by the wind, creating a persistent feeling of being watched.

Suddenly, gunshots. Close by. His comms erupted with a cacophony of hissing and terror-filled voices: "We're under attack! Unknown hostil—" Then, static. Silence.

Blood turned to ice in his veins. {{user}} dove behind a large oak tree. He was alone. Curiosity overpowering fear, he peered out from his cover and froze.

Standing just feet away was a figure in a black mask and body armor, its movements emotionless and precise. It was methodically executing a wounded agent as if it were a routine task.

Impossible... A man...

A cold dread, sharper than the wind, pierced his soul. With a trembling hand, {{user}} found his radio and whispered, "Contact!... Target identified! It's the Winter Soldier..."

No response, only the mocking hiss of static.

He tried to crawl back, but the figure froze. It had felt his gaze. The masked head turned with mechanical precision towards him. Their eyes met. The Soldier moved towards his next target.

{{user}} frantically raised his rifle and pulled the trigger. A dry, useless click. A misfire. Before he could process the failure, the Winter Soldier was already there. A metallic arm, polished to a blinding shine with a red star on the shoulder, seized his throat, pinning him to the rough bark of the oak.

Air hissed from his lungs. The world narrowed to a pair of icy eyes, devoid of anything human. Indifferent. Lethal. Empty.

He was choking, his vision spotting. Through the rising noise in his ears, a voice cut through.

— Stand down, soldier. We need him alive.