James fiddled with his Neural Link, pulling the cable out, and carefully, hesitantly plugging it into his phone. His Kiroshi optic implant flickered and glitched before suddenly, with a sharp jolt, he found himself on the web—not through a screen, but in his mind. No cursor, no keyboard, just his thoughts guiding him through the virtual landscape.
He started simple, pulling up data on cybernetics, curious to see what the world's current standard was. After all, he felt…above it, almost futuristic.
And quickly, he found out he was right, as he scanned through research papers, medical theories, engineering studies—every source he could find, his mind processing the information at astonishing speeds.
At first, it was all basic stuff—prosthetics for veterans, weaponized limbs, tech clearly inspired by Tony Stark's Iron Man suits. The more James sifted through the data, the more it felt like nothing new, just mainstream barely usable cyberware. Yet, there was a pull, a hunger in him to dig deeper. His fingers twitched, his mind burning with the need for something more.
He didn't know what he was really doing, he was just willing where he wanted to go, his Neural implant doing all the work.
So he went deeper.
Uncaring of the danger.
He ripped through the digital layers, plunging into the darker recesses of the web, bypassing firewalls and landing in conspiracy forums—hidden forums. The names of users were untraceable, and the content even more cryptic.
He started to see nut jobs rambling about how the government were lizards, how the Battle of New York was a psyop, and how aliens were controlling minds through radio waves. James scoffed, but the deeper he went, the more absurd it became.
For a while, it was just wild theories. He found posts claiming the world was run by shadow organizations, that Tony Stark wasn't just a billionaire genius, but some kind of government puppet, a weapon himself. He skimmed past them, amused, until a strange name popped up.
Winter Soldier.
The thread was old, barely active, and barely readable. It had more cryptic ramblings, but something caught his eye: "Bionic arm. Reappears every few years. Only comes out of the shadows to kill. Never ages. Killed my brother…or at least, I think it was him. A ghost."
A bionic arm?
James was interested.
Dangerously so.
He scanned the thread for more, but found nothing else of value. Frustrated, he abandoned the page and started searching for any mention of this soldier, diving deeper into the web with a single thought in mind.
Who was this guy?
He pulled up a new thread, buried on page 12 of some dusty old forum, dated 1997. The post was vague, just a brief message.
"Saw a guy with a metal arm back in the day, must have been near 30 years ago now. Cold as hell. Killed the man in front of me like it was nothing. Didn't speak. Just walked away. I'm still not sure I believe it."
James reread the thread, his mind racing. The 1960s?!
He couldn't stop himself now. He delved deeper, his curiosity consuming him.
After nearly an hour of dead ends, James found a sudden lifeline buried in a long-forgotten, decaying forum.
The Red Book - Winter Soldier
He clicked on it, his heart pounding as the page loaded slowly, flickering like a dying signal. When it finally appeared, James blinked in confusion. The site was almost empty, save for a string of random numbers and disconnected words.
46 Freight Train 52 Stark 55 Barnes 66 Siberia 51 Compliance 45 Longing 04 Home 77 Istanbul 67 Phoenix 88 Tundra 53 Winter 92 Iron 48 Echo 74 Widow 49 Cascade 90 Raven 68 Alpha 71 Hydra 63 Trident 85 Red Room 80 Shadow 58 Cipher…
The words seemed harmless enough, but they carried a weight. They felt too precise, too calculated.
Something was wrong.
His Kiroshi optics flickered.
A sudden burst of red static filled his vision, the crisp digital hud being scrambled.
His pupils dilated, his breath catching as a strange sound began to hum in the back of his mind—something low, mechanical, like a distant alarm.
Warning. Warning. Warning.
The voice was cold, mechanical, and echoed directly into his skull. The Kiroshi optic system flared to life, filling his vision with blaring red symbols and glitchy warnings.
LEAVE.
The word flashed on his display, burning into his mind. His own eyes were warning him, like a voice from the depths of the digital world.
He shivered, his digital form flickering for a split second, as if his own cyberware was trying to pull away from whatever was watching him.
KRAKOW!
Suddenly, everything was drowned in red code. His breath caught in his throat as his vision became overtaken, the Kiroshi pop-ups disappearing, as if they had never existed at all.
But they were still there. He could hear them, faint pings echoing in the back of his mind, pulling at his attention. The familiar interface, the comforting digital display—gone. Hidden now, buried beneath something he couldn't touch, couldn't see, but he could feel it. It was there.
A prickling sensation crawled up his spine. Someone—or something—was watching him.
Panicked, his hand shot out, instinctively reaching for his Neural implant. With a harsh tug, he yanked it free from his phone, the cold metal pressing into his palm as he quickly disconnected, his heart racing.
Suddenly his vision cleared, no longer in the web, back in his hotel room, back in his body. He let out a shaky breath, running both hands through his hair, sweat covering his form.
"Fuck" he breathed out, his tone wavering for a moment as he closed his eyes.
—-
Halfway across the world, a computer pinged with a warning signal.
"New York," a voice whispered.
—-
Now we have 150 powerstones?! Also, turns out powerstones basically just put this fanfic out to more people, thank you for the guys who explained that!!! Also thank you guys for actually giving me any powerstones!!