For the next two months, Ernst settled into a comfortable rhythm.
Days were spent in the lab with Dr. Zola, debating the physics of the Tesseract-powered engines for the Valkyrie.
Nights were spent with Natalia.
She played the part of the devoted lover, unaware that every time his hand brushed her spine, Ernst was reading her surface thoughts.
He knew her schedule, her drop sites, and her reports to the Red Room.
He allowed her to feed them just enough information to keep them interested, but not enough to compromise him.
It was a delicate game of cat and mouse, and Ernst enjoyed every second of it.
Schmidt's Office - Two Months Later
The calm was broken by a summons from the Red Skull.
Schmidt stood by the window, staring at the snow-capped peaks.
He looked agitated.
"Dr. Ernst," Schmidt said, not turning around.
"We need to accelerate the Gen-2 Serum. I need it now."
Ernst adjusted his glasses, feigning concern.
"General, science cannot be rushed. The first generation depleted you. If we push too hard without the Phalanx to stabilize the matrix, you will burn out completely."
Schmidt spun around, his crimson face twisted in a snarl.
"I do not have the luxury of time! Intelligence reports that Erskine... that traitor... he has succeeded."
"In America?" Ernst asked.
"Yes. The Americans they are preparing the procedure."
Schmidt slammed his fist on the desk.
"If they create a Super Soldier before I reach my apex, the balance of power shifts."
Ernst's mind raced. Project Rebirth. Steve Rogers.
History was happening right on schedule.
"I see," Ernst said calmly.
"If the Americans are moving, we must counter. But I still cannot give you the Gen-2 Serum without the Phalanx. It is impossible."
Schmidt looked ready to kill someone.
"However," Ernst interjected, offering a lifeline.
"I can synthesize a 'Vitality Serum'. It is not an evolution, but a restoration. It will repair the cellular damage from your first injection and bring you to true peak human capacity. You won't be a god, General, but you will be the strongest man on Earth. Until the American appears."
Schmidt hesitated, then nodded.
"Do it. Fix me."
Brooklyn, New York - 1943
That night, Ernst couldn't sleep.
The thought of Steve Rogers gnawed at him.
The man who would become the Sentinel of Liberty.
The pinnacle of human potential.
I need a baseline, Ernst decided.
'I need to see him before the Serum.m
"Azazel," Ernst whispered in the dark.
The man materialized from the shadows of the bedroom, careful not to wake Natalia.
"We are going for a long jump," Ernst said.
"New York."
Azazel grinned. "I love the city."
BAMF.
They appeared in a dark, garbage-strewn alley in Brooklyn.
The sounds of a distant cinema and the smell of pretzels filled the air.
And there he was.
Steve Rogers.
He was tiny. Five-foot-nothing, ninety pounds of asthma and stubbornness.
He was slumped against a brick wall, wiping blood from a split lip.
He had just been beaten up, again.
He picked up a trash can lid, holding it like a shield for a moment before dropping it with a sigh.
"Remarkable," Ernst whispered.
Steve jumped, spinning around to see two figures in the shadows.
"Who's there?" Steve demanded, putting up his skinny fists.
"You looking for a fight? Because I can do this all day."
"Relax, son," Ernst stepped into the dim light, wearing a long trench coat.
"We aren't here to fight. We are admirers."
"Admirers?" Steve scoffed, looking at his own bloodied shirt.
"You got a funny way of showing it."
"I look at you," Ernst said, his eyes glowing faintly with psionic energy, "and I don't see a victim. I see a singularity."
Ernst's enhanced brain scanned Steve.
Physically, the boy was a wreck. Scoliosis, arrhythmia, asthma.
But his mind...
Ernst saw a burning, white-hot aura of willpower. It was anomalous.
This boy could summon a Green Lantern ring.
His will was so dense it was almost tangible.
If the Serum amplifies the body, what amplifies the will? Ernst wondered.
He is raw potential.
"You have a gift, Steve Rogers," Ernst said.
"Your body is weak, but your spirit is a fortress. Most men break. You don't know how."
Steve lowered his hands, confused.
"My spirit doesn't stop punches."
"It can," Ernst smiled.
"If you know how to focus it."
Ernst made a decision. He wasn't just going to observe; he was going to experiment.
"I can teach you," Ernst said.
"A mental protocol. A way to channel that stubbornness into a bio-feedback loop. It won't make you strong overnight, but it will make your mind unbreakable. When the time comes for your... transformation... this technique will ensure you survive it."
Steve looked at him suspiciously.
"Why? What do you want?"
"A trade," Ernst said.
"I give you this knowledge. In exchange, one day, far in the future, I will ask for a favor. Nothing illegal. Nothing that violates your precious morals. Just... a favor."
Steve studied Ernst. He saw power, but not malice.
And he saw someone who, for the first time, wasn't looking at him with pity.
"Deal," Steve said, extending a bony hand.
"Smart choice."
Ernst didn't shake the hand.
Instead, he reached out and tapped Steve's forehead.
Neural Download.
Ernst pushed a packet of information directly into Steve's cortex.
It was a cognitive framework, a mental discipline derived from the Reality Stone simulation.
It taught the user how to override pain signals and force the body to exceed its limits through sheer willpower.
Steve gasped, clutching his head as the knowledge flooded in.
"What... what was that?" Steve panted, his eyes wide.
"The foundation," Ernst said, stepping back into the shadows.
"Use it well, Captain."
"Captain?" Steve asked.
But the alley was empty.
Ernst and Azazel were gone.
Back in the Alps, Ernst lay down next to the sleeping Natalia, a satisfied smirk on his face.
He had just hacked Captain America.
——-
Authors Note:
Ernst literally just installed Willpower_Driver_v1.0.exe into Steve's brain.
I love the idea of Steve standing in a dirty alley, holding a trash can lid, while a wizard pokes his forehead and says, 'You have potential, kid.'
Steve: "Bucky! A man in a trench coat just poked my head and gave me super-focus!"
Bucky: "Steve, how many times have I told you not to talk to strangers in alleys?"
Steve: "But he called me Captain!"
Bucky: "He was probably mocking your height. Let's get you a hot dog."