Chapter 012: Captain America... Mason?
Dr. Erskine was elated. What a straightforward, noble young man! He'd agreed so readily without asking a single question.
His preconceptions made him view Mason in an extremely favorable light, and through the lens of his subjective judgment, Mason became his top candidate.
If Mason knew what Dr. Erskine was thinking, he'd probably cough up blood.
Knock, knock, knock!
A sharp rap at the door preceded a striking woman in military uniform—square-jawed, sharp-eyed, and radiating competence. Watching her chest sway as she walked, Mason discreetly swallowed.
"Steve, buddy, how the hell did you resist this bombshell?" Mason frowned, thinking for a moment. "Should I try to help Captain America lose his virginity?" He weighed the options and realized that task seemed significantly harder than killing Schmidt.
This woman was naturally the female lead from The First Avenger—Agent Peggy Carter. She wasn't only Captain America's love interest but also a founding member of S.H.I.E.L.D., a remarkable achievement in an era of rampant sexism.
"Agent Carter, thank you,"
Dr. Erskine said warmly, accepting the file from her. Agent Carter leaned down and whispered something in Dr. Erskine's ear, glancing briefly at Mason. The content clearly concerned him.
Looking at her curvaceous figure beneath that uniform, Mason guiltily averted his gaze. He was now friends with Steve and felt obligated to follow the bro code of not ogling what wasn't his to look at.
Dr. Erskine flipped through the documents, his brow furrowing slightly. "Should I call you Mason or Vincent...?"
Mason was startled. After his dimensional jump, he hadn't inherited any of the original body's memories and had no clue what this body's owner had been called. This seemed to be the source of Dr. Erskine's confusion.
"Call me Mason,"
he quickly interjected. "Let the past be buried with the destruction of the village." Mason feigned melancholy, replying with a weary sigh.
Dr. Erskine was visibly moved, seemingly recalling his own painful experiences. "You've buried your past, but what about the vengeance? Won't you avenge the entire village?"
Mason's heart skipped a beat. He felt he'd overdone the tragic backstory, but at this critical juncture, he could only grit his teeth and continue the performance.
"Hundreds of lives were lost in that village. How could I forget them so easily..."
"During my escape, I was consumed by hatred—I wanted nothing more than to rip Schmidt apart with my bare hands. But later, when all those emotions subsided, all that remained was crushing emptiness."
"I realized my life shouldn't be defined by hatred. I shouldn't exist solely for revenge after my narrow escape. I want to save more people, to free them from Schmidt's tyranny. That's my real mission!" Mason replied with passionate conviction, his face radiating righteousness, though inwardly he was dying inside.
As expected, lying sucks—one lie requires ten more to cover it up. If it weren't for Steve's sake, why would I put myself through this?
Lost in his self-directed Oscar performance, Mason failed to notice the profound admiration in Dr. Erskine's eyes. If it weren't for protocol requiring approval from others, he would've made the final decision right then and there, selecting Mason as the ultimate candidate!
"I currently work for the U.S. Strategic Scientific Reserve, overseeing the Super Soldier Program. I'd like you to join our operation and help me," Dr. Erskine invited, suppressing his excitement, then briefly explained the entire initiative to Mason.
Mason was naturally thrilled to accept and immediately agreed. However, he hadn't forgotten his actual purpose and directly stated, "Dr. Erskine, I'd like to recommend someone to you—my friend Steve Rogers. He's a fighter with an unwavering sense of justice, unafraid of authority or power."
Mason selectively recounted some of Steve's experiences to Dr. Erskine, confident that with the doctor's insight, he'd be very interested in Steve.
Hearing Mason's words, Dr. Erskine nodded repeatedly. To be honest, in his assessment, Steve was indeed an excellent Super Soldier candidate. However, he now found Mason so impressive that he even mistook Mason's recommendation of Steve as a display of selfless magnanimity.
"Alright, approved."
In Dr. Erskine's mind, Mason was already the chosen one, and it didn't particularly matter who else joined. So he simply accommodated Mason's request.
"Have him report with you in three days." Dr. Erskine wrote down an address. "It's late now—go back and rest, and take care of those injuries." Erskine instructed with genuine concern.
Mason nodded, memorized the address, and carefully tucked it in his pocket.
He was ecstatic, feeling that his efforts tonight hadn't been wasted, and he'd finally gotten the timeline back on track. Now he just had to wait for Steve to be selected by Dr. Erskine to become Captain America, and he could hand over the shield and complete the mission.
But little did he know that under his interference, the plot—seemingly normal on the surface—had already diverged catastrophically. If things continued developing this way, it would only create a hybrid Captain America named Mason.
And Steve would probably never get his chance to step onto the superhero stage.
The night sky was filled with stars; the afterglow of the Expo seemed not to have faded. Young couples could still be seen strolling hand-in-hand on the streets, their faces beaming with smiles, seemingly untouched by the distant war.
Mason's head wound had been hastily bandaged, and he no longer felt any serious issues. He straightened up, hailed a cab, and headed toward Steve's apartment.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over him, and he slumped back in his seat, drifting into sleep.
A flash of white light appeared before his eyes, and a sharp blade pierced his chest. Mason jolted awake, only to realize it was just a nightmare.
A short while later, the taxi stopped at the street corner. Mason paid the fare and approached Steve's door. He found the apartment brightly lit and heard muffled voices inside.
He pushed open the door and entered. Under the lamplight, Steve's face was creased with worry. Barnes, standing beside him, was reassuring him, "I just made some calls. The guys who took Mason were from the Strategic Scientific Reserve, a government science outfit. He'll be fine."
"Hey fellas, miss me already?" Mason joked, spreading his arms.
"Mason?!"
"You're back?!"
He immediately felt warmth as a soft body collided with him—it was Connie, looking genuinely concerned. Mason hadn't expected her to still be waiting there. The softness pressing against his chest sent a jolt through his system.
His physical reaction was instantly noticeable. Connie blushed crimson and jumped back, clearly understanding what had happened to Mason's anatomy.
"Mason, are you alright?" Steve asked with concern.
Mason looked perfectly fine, then pulled out the piece of paper and handed it to Steve.
"I've got a gift for you!"
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