30: Two Steps

  A good strategist must always know when it's time to retreat.

  Sebastian Shaw, or Kus Schmidt as he was currently known, realized that the moment to leave Pond had arrived. It was unfortunate, as his research had yet to yield the results he expected or sought, but as a man who preferred to keep a low profile, he k was best to abandon ship when you could see it was about to sink.

  And the Third Reich's ship was not only about to sink but also about to explode.

  For others, perhaps it wasn’t as clear. They thought the Third Reich still had a ce, that Hydra had a ce. But Shaw knew better: you ot fight evolution, you ot stop it or resist it.

  Captain Amerid his eam of super-soldiers were evolution—perhaps not a natural evolution like the one Shaw sought, but evolution heless, and something that would mark a new era for the world. and something Shaw loo witness with his own eyes.

  For those and many more reasons, he prepared to leave the tration camp facilities in Auschwitz. If it were possible, he would have liked to stay a little longer. As one of the camp’s principal stists and a senior officer in charge, he had enjoyed siderable freedom to experiment, with all the test subjects he could ask for at hand—something he knew wouldn’t be as easy to obtain elsewhere. Even so, as someone who preferred to remain in the shadows and work from the darkness, he opted not to face Captain America head-on, if it could be avoided.

  He didn’t fear the man or his team—Sebastian Shaw feared nothing. His power, his evolution, was superior. He was superior to everything. But making a se by killing the "greatest hero" of this era didly fall within his definition of "discretion."

  "Unfortunate," he couldn’t help but murmur. He truly wao study his blood, to see if it was indeed something "artificial," or if, instead, the Ameris had found a way to activate the hidden mutation deep within the DNA of a select few like himself. But whatever the answer, it could wait.

  Everything has its time and pce. Patience is not a virtue many enjoy, but for someone who defy the passage of time as he could, patience had bee his greatest ally.

  With that in mind, he thought perhaps it was time to head to the Uates, take a small vacation, and rex a bit. He'd heard the nightclubs in Las Vegas were quite eaining, and he had no she of moo spend o least until this war ended and things calmed down a bit.

  His musings were interrupted when he felt a slight tremor shake his office. It was very faint, almost imperceptible to anyone else, but not to him. Thanks to his power, he could sehat it wasn’t a mere tremor; the kiiergy behind it was more trated, more like a...

  "Explosion?" He paused in his movements, gng at his half-packed suitcase as different thoughts began to race through his mind.

  Soon he heard the arms bring throughout the pce, while a dozen more detonations caused the building he was in to start shaking. Distant screams and the sound of gunfire soon joihe chaos.

  Shaw didn’t rush. Despite the turmoil outside, his body began to move calmly once again, while in his mind he wondered how this was happening so soon.

  He had heard the news, the reports. I days, Captain America’s team had been sweeping through Pond with almost ance since Warsaw was liberated from Nazi occupation.

  Even those "things" Hydra had begun deploying against them could barely slow their advance. Aberrant monstrosities that Shaw despised, deformities that defied nature itself. He had the ce to study some of them i days when Hydra brought them to Auschwitz, and everything he saw during that time repulsed him to his core.

  For that reason, he khis war was already decided. A "perfect" evolution would never lose to a forced, defective ohat needed external teology to stay together and standing.

  Still, it was undeniable that those things were "problematic." Shaw didn’t know how many of those monstrosities Hydra had, but they couldn’t be few. Even with his team, Captain America should have still been busy clearing out the bases and tration camps around Warsaw.

  So why? Why could he hear Auschwitz extermination camp beginning to be attacked? For a moment, he sidered that this didn’t necessarily have to be Captain America’s doing, but that thought was almost immediately dismissed. Shaw wouldertain false hopes. In his opinion, only one person had the ability and means to invade a pce as fortified as Auschwitz, and that was the super soldier who had liberated all of Warsaw ihan three days.

  It seemed the reports he had been receiving were wrong, or something else had happened.

  "The Lady of Luck hasn’t smiled ooday," he thought with a hint of sarcasm. On the very day he decides to leave, Auschwitz is attacked—a ce that amused him slightly while also making his decision to abandon the German ship seem even more accurate in his mind.

  If Captain America was advang so quickly through Pond, then perhaps the Third Reich had eveime left than he had inally thought.

  With one final motion, he closed his st suitcase a off, deg he could refle it all ter. Right now, he o get out of here before the pce was pletely overrun.

  Unbeknownst to Shaw, outside his office window, a crow, not much different from any other, watched him leave the room and began discreetly following his trail.

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  A few moments earlier.

  "Get up!" The shout woke several prisoners as the doors of the building where they stayed were abruptly thrown open, soldiers st in, yelling, and hitting anything in their path with batons.

  On a bunk made of old wood, with only thin, ts as a mattress, Erik opened his eyes at the otion. Even half-asleep, he didn’t hesitate to stand alongside the others, quickly shaking off the lingering drowsiness while assessing the situation.

  The guards who had barged in began herding everyoo the rge courtyard, them to form lines—something that had been happening with increasing frequency over the past week.

  'Things are getting more tense,' it had started several days ago. Erik, like many others, didn’t kly why, but the Nazi soldiers had beore irritable, more on edge. It was clear something was happening—something that worried and ahem—but no one dared ask because the st one who tried ended up with his head smashed against the ground.

  A sight that haunted Erik’s dreams for many nights.

  Time was running out; the 16-year-old boy could feel it. More and more of them were disappearing, taken to who knows where, o return. Erik had barely mao avoid that fate, but as fewer people remained, it became harder to do so. He knew he would soon have to act.

  Closing his eyes for a moment, Erik trated, felt that power within him flowing through every part of his being. As if it were a sixth se traveled beyond his body like an invisible wave, extending and allowing him to feel all the metal around him with absurd ease, ready to bend to his will if he desired.

  That’s how he sensed one of the soldiers approag where he was, on in hand. Erik opened his eyes and watched as the man walked with slow, measured steps, iing each prisoner in the lih sharp, bloodshot eyes.

  Something was going to happen; survival instincts developed from his time as a prisoold him so.

  “Look at you, pathetic excuses for humans.” The insult wasn’t ued; in fact, it was quite on at this point. Even so, Erik felt his fists voluntarily.

  He saw the soldier gring with disdain at the prisoners, all of whom lowered their heads, fearing to provoke his wrath, accepting the insults without protest.

  It athetic.

  It was irritating.

  It was unjust.

  “You think you have a future? You think you’ll ever get out of here?” the man mocked. He paused his walk for a moment, and from his mouth, a spit flew onto one of the prisoners’ faces.

  The prisorembled, the saliva running down his cheek. The soldier smiled, enjoying the sight, then tinued walking until he reached the spot o Erik. The boy saw from the er of his eye how the soldier raised his on and with the barrel lifted the of the prisoner beside him to make him look him in the face.

  “Tell me, animal, do you think you’ll ever be free?” At such a question, the prisoner hesitated for a moment, his body trembling.

  “Are you deaf?” the guard asked with feigned when he saw the hesitation.

  “N-no, sir, I...” But before his words could finish, a strangled sound cut them off.

  With bloodshot eyes, the prisoared at the barrel of the gun under his . At the same time, the guard also looked at his on in fusion, his finger pressed against the trigger.

  For a moment, an unfortable silence filled the pce. Then the guard ughed, l the barrel from the prisoner’s . The man almost colpsed to his knees, uriaining his filthy pants, and uo stop himself, he too began to ugh, tears streaming from his eyes.

  Both men smiled at each other, but in the instant, the guard's expression ged abruptly.

  With blind fury, his fist flew forcefully towards the prisoner's face. Blood spurted as his lip split, and his powerless body fell to the ground.

  "Do you think you're lucky, huh?!" the guard roared, causing all the prisoners around to tremble as they watched helplessly while their panion began to be beaten.

  Erik bit the inside of his cheek as he felt his heart begin to race.

  "Do you think it's funny? That I'm a joke?!" the guard kicked, making the prisoner writhe and try to curl into a ball to protect himself from the attacks, whily ehe German more, who then decided to lift his rifle with both hands, ready to use it as an improvised club.

  The on came down, but before it could strike, a hand reached out and, with ease that should have been impossible, stopped the blow cold.

  "That's enough," a voice whispered, and the soldier looked to the side in fusion to see a pair of eyes filled with anger.

  Erik felt his st shred of patience vanish. He had endured enough; he was no loing to tolerate it. Just imagining that his mht be suffering the same treatment made his heart freeze to areme, while at the same time, he felt his power cmor within him, begging to be used, pleading to be revealed to the world.

  Fine, he could fulfill that desire. Without needing to look, he could sense how the uards were being alert, how they raised their ons, aiming at him, ready to shoot, to kill him.

  The metal within dozens of meters around began to tremble slightly. Erik was ready. He had secretly trained enough; his powers now obeyed his ands to the letter, and he was willing to unleash them to their full extent, no matter the sequences.

  To escape this prison, to free his mother.

  But before he could, a thunderous sound flooded the entire pce.

  Boom!

  The explosion made the ground tremble; everyone, whether prisoner or soldier, staggered, almost losing their bance. Erik blinked, bewildered, momentarily fetting all his pns and turning towards the distance, where bck smoke was beginning to rise.

  In quick succession, more explosions from different dires began to flood the area, apanied by the sounds of gunfire and screams reag his ears.

  "Enemy attack!" someone shouted, and absentmindedly, Erik realized that the one shouting was one of the German soldiers.

  Wait... Enemy attack!? Erik snapped back to reality with force. Almost unsciously, his powers kicked into a. The soldiers surrounding him didn’t even have time to react when the barrels of their rades' guns turoward them, out of their trol.

  Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

  A dozen sh out, and in the instant, bodies dropped lifeless to the ground. The Jewish prisoners in the yard stared in shock at the se, not uanding what had just happened.

  Erik licked his dry lips, his gaze resting for a moment on the corpses. This wasn’t the first time he had killed someone, but it was the first time he did so fully sciously and deliberately. He thought something might ge within him, that perhaps he would feel regret uilt.

  But all he felt was nothing.

  With a flick of his hand, the soldiers' rifles flew through the air, nding in the hands of the prisoners.

  Erik didn’t give them a sed gnce; whether they took up the ons and fought or cowered in fear wasn’t his .

  He had already given them everything they needed. Now he had to focus on his mission—he o find his mother. So, without hesitation, he began to run toward the dire where the women had been separated.

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  Always stay two steps ahead.

  John had heard this phrase many times throughout his life. A simple phrase, but ohat exemplified quite well what could be achieved when you moved the pieces on the board correctly, catg your oppo pletely off guard.

  John was not a master at it, his first attempt to achieve something like that was quite frustrated by the Red Skull, which irritated him quite a bit for a while, although in the end he had mao take advantage of it in his own way.

  Even if it had, at the same time, plicated things for everyone.

  That's why he began to be more careful for his attempt, making sure to get everything necessary to achieve a goal that, in theory, should have been impossible. The stage was set, as were the actors who would participate in it—he just o steer everything toward the expected clusion.

  How had he gone from actor to a pseudo-aspiring director? John had no idea. He preferred the show; ag came more naturally to him than direg. But if he wahings to turn ht, he had no choice but to take the reins.

  "I should charge more," he couldn't help but joke to himself.

  "Charge what?" Cassandra, who had been standing beside him, asked with doubt, as she had heard him murmur.

  "My sary. I think I should increase it. What do you think?" he asked, to which the girl rolled her eyes.

  "You're the boss; you already have the best sary," she said as if that were a fact, and under normal circumstances, she would have been right.

  "Actually, I make less than you."

  At those words, Cassandra looked at him with fusion.

  "I have a sary?"

  Uh, it seemed he had fotten to tell them that.

  But before he could respond, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed. The joviality vanished as both of them turned serious, looking toward the depths of the dark underground tunnel where they had been waiting while the others caused chaos on the surface.

  Soon, a figure became visible, one carrying twe suitcases in his hands.

  The footsteps slowed until they stopped. Sebastian Shaw looked at the man and woman standing in front of his escape route with bewilderment.

  "How?" he asked with curiosity. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, notig that there was no nervousness or fear in his expression.

  "Well, I have a little birdie that helped me scout the area," John said with a smile.

  In truth, pnning this wouldn't have been as easy or quick without the help of Raven and Charles.

  "Kus Schmidt, it’s said you're one of the best stists in Germany, as well as one of the top biologists in the world. It's also said you've worked closely with Hydra and Dr. Arnim Zo." At the mention of this information, the so-called Kus Schmidt appeared even more surprised.

  "Well, we've had some creative differences retly," Shaw said, setting his suitcases on the ground and smoothing out his suit.

  This whole situation had caught him by surprise. Not only did the enemy know his escape route, but they also seemed aware of his former association with Hydra—something only a select few should have known.

  It seemed Captain America had once again exceeded his expectations.

  Even so, Shaw wasn’t worried. Knowing these things didn’t really ge mu the grand scheme.

  "I must admit, your ability to orchestrate all of this is incredible. If it were anyone else in this situation, I’d say this would be the moment the game was decided—a perfect checkmate." As he spoke, Shaw began to roll up his sleeves.

  "But I’m afraid I’ll have to shatter that illusion." Shaw smiled. Captain America didn’t know it yet, but the worst mistake he could have made was thinking Shaw was just a stist. If he believed a trap like this could stop him, Shaw would have to teach him a harsh lesson.

  With absolute fidence, he took a step forward, ready to force his way out and demonstrate his undeniable superiority.

  Except... his foot didn’t move.

  ‘Huh?’ fused, he tried to move again, but once more, without success. He heard footsteps and saw John approag, stopping in front of him with a rexed look on his face.

  "Sorry, Kus, but shattering this illusion isn’t something within your capabilities."

  With that, John turo see Charles emerge from the hiding spot where he had been waiting for the perfeent.

  "I was w when you'd shut him up; his smug expression was starting to annoy me," Cassandra said, walking up beside her brother, who was fog ily on Shaw.

  "Looks like everythi well. Good job, Charles," John praised the boy as the three of them stared at Shaw, frozen in pce.

  John gehought it was a shame. He would have loved to have a big, spectacur final fight with the man. But Sebastian Shaw wasn’t the kind of person you gave a ce to fight back. Too many things could g, and John had learned not to take unnecessary risks.

  That's why, after thinking it over carefully, he decided to end this in the best ossible, without giving the man the ce to fight at all.

  It was a bit anticlimactic, but Shaw was never his great eo warrant anything different. He was just a future nuisance, better crushed in the cradle before he could create real problems.

  "Extract all the information possible. Remember, don't let him regain mobility, or he could bee a hassle."

  Charles nodded, starting to trate and delve into Shaw's mind without aation, making the man's body tremble as he colpsed to his knees, foam beginning to form at his mouth.

  “If anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate to ad kill him before he do anything,” John said, looking at Cassandra, who fidently nodded and poio herself.

  "Don’t worry, even without Charles I could have hahis on my own." Seeing her proud expression, John sighed with a hint of amusement before speaking again.

  "fidence is good, but too much fidence get you killed, remember?" At that, Cassandra lost her smile. Even though some time had passed, it seemed John wouldn’t let her fet her little mishap in Warsaw so easily.

  "Just don’t fet it, okay?" With that said, he couldn’t help but ruffle her hair, much to her annoyance. Absently, John wondered if she would also end up bald iure like her brother. That would certainly be an iing sight.

  There was a jolt followed by a distant rumble, John snapped out of his strahoughts, fog on the sounds ing from outside. It seemed the battle had started to intensify.

  ‘Time to start the sed act,’ he thought as he tightened his grip on his shield. After all, he hadn’t e here just to deal with Shaw.

  He had also e to capture a certain master of magism and add him to his team if possible.

  ‘At this rate, I’ll bee a real Pokémon master.’

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  Note:

  The plot tio advance, I’ve been thinking about starting to make some small time skips here and there, this chapter was a test of that, tell me what you think and if I should tih this or opt to keep things as they were, being more “linear” with the events and the story.

  Remember to ent and leave a like. If you notiy mistakes, please point them out so I correct them.

  Finally remember that You already find the chapter (and several more chapters) of this story on Patreon ( patreon.maCruzader ) All the support received is appreciated ;D