Echoes of the Past
Celeste’s fingers hovered over the file, her pulse a rapid drum in her ears. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but the decision was made for her when Bucky handed it over, his expression unreadable.
The file was aged, the edges curling, but the HYDRA insignia remained bold and unyielding on the front. Swallowing hard, she opened it. Pages of reports, test results, and photographs stared back at her. Her own face, bruised and bloodied, peered up from black-and-white images taken in a cold, sterile lab. Descriptions of her physiology, abilities, and the potential applications of her power were scrawled in clinical detachment.
“‘Subject displays anomalous energy manipulation capabilities… regenerative potential… durable cellular structure…’” Steve read aloud over her shoulder, his voice tight with barely contained anger.
Celeste’s stomach twisted. She traced the words with a shaking hand. “They… studied me. Used me.”
Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Just like they did to me.”
The weight of it was suffocating. These weren’t just experiments; they were attempts to mold her, control her. And somewhere between the inked lines, she caught a name she didn’t recognize: Project Luminous.
“They were trying to replicate your power,” Steve said grimly. “Just like they tried with the serum.”
Celeste shut the file, the air around her pulsing faintly with energy before she forced herself to exhale and let it go. “I won’t let them define me,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
The moment was shattered by a sudden explosion. The remaining HYDRA forces had triggered a failsafe, sending the facility into collapse. The walls trembled, debris falling like deadly hail.
“Move!” Steve ordered.
Celeste shoved the file into her belt and ran, weaving through the crumbling structure. Bucky was at her side, his metal arm catching a falling beam before it could crush them both.
They barely made it out before the entire base erupted into flames. The cold night was a sharp contrast to the searing heat behind them. The mission was over, but Celeste felt anything but victorious.
She glanced at Bucky. In the firelight, his expression was one she recognized all too well—haunted, restless, searching.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, as if he had read her mind.
She nodded, but in her heart, she knew the journey had only just begun.