Flashbacks:
The metallic screech of train wheels echoed against the cliffside as the high-speed locomotive hurtled along its precarious route. Bullets ricocheted off steel and glass, the sound of gunfire drowning out the roaring wind.
Amid the chaos, Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, a renowned sniper with a reputation for precision and ice-cold nerves, crouched by the shattered window of the caboose. His sights were locked on his target: a rogue arms dealer orchestrating the sale of stolen bioweapons.
Bucky exhaled, steadied his aim, and pulled the trigger. The target crumpled, but his victory was short-lived. A sudden explosion rocked the train, tearing apart its rear carriages. Bucky stumbled, the sniper rifle slipping from his grasp. The floor tilted violently, and before he could react, the world dissolved into a whirlwind of sky and rock as he plummeted from the train and off the edge of the cliff.
*
When Bucky awoke, he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t alive in the way he once knew, either.
The room was cold and sterile, the walls pulsating with a faint, eerie hum. He tried to sit up but found his lower body unresponsive. Looking down, he was met with a sight that froze his breath: where his legs once were, a sleek, silver, metallic tail glimmered under the harsh fluorescent lights. The metal was seamless, terrifyingly elegant, and fused to him like a second skin.
A voice broke the silence. "Welcome back, Sergeant Barnes."
He looked up to see a woman in a black lab coat, her eyes as sharp as scalpels.
She introduced herself as Dr. Elara Vos, a scientist working for Abyssus, a covert organisation operating beneath the world's oceans. Bucky’s fall hadn’t killed him - Abyssus had found him at the base of the cliff, barely alive. They’d "rescued" him, rebuilt him, and repurposed him. They replaced his legs with a mechanical tail capable of both incredible speed and unmatched strength underwater. They had also grafted gills into his neck, making him as much a creature of the sea as a man.
"You’re one of us now," Dr. Vos said. "And you’ve been created to serve Abyssus."
*
Months blurred into a haze of conditioning.
They honed his skills, sharpening his mind and body for Abyssus’ underwater operations.
His memories of his past life faded, replaced by the organisation’s singular purpose: domination of the seas.
He became their deadliest operative, leading Abyssus’ submarine fleet on missions of sabotage, espionage, and conquest.
Yet, something in him resisted. In the depths of his mind, shadows of his former self flickered - memories of honour, loyalty, and freedom.
***
Mission 246:
The waters off the coast of Ilyria were colder than usual, a bitter undercurrent slicing through the shallows as the waves shimmered under a crescent moon, each ripple reflecting faint silver light.
Bucky moved like a phantom through them, his metallic tail slicing through the cold water with silent precision. The sleek design left no turbulence in his wake, his approach as ghostly as the abyss itself. His gills filtered the oxygen from the briny sea, allowing him to stay submerged indefinitely.
Ahead, anchored to the seafloor, loomed the Andromeda - a vast research station encased in reinforced steel. Officially, it was a marine biology hub. Unofficially, it was an intelligence outpost for the Ilyrian Navy, transmitting encrypted data that Abyssus wanted wiped from existence.
“Target in sight,” Bucky murmured, his voice transmitted through his earpiece to Abyssus Command.
“Proceed,” Dr. Vos ordered, her tone cold and clinical. “Neutralise all defenses, disable the station’s uplink, and corrupt their servers. No witnesses.”
Bucky clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus. The mission was straightforward, and hesitation wasn’t tolerated. He swam closer to the station, his augmented senses detecting faint vibrations in the water - automated drones patrolling the perimeter.
Bucky activated the stealth module integrated into his tail. A faint shimmer surrounded him, distorting the water like a heat mirage. To the drones’ sensors, he was invisible. He glided past them, slipping through the net of their defenses.
Bucky approached the station’s shadowed underbelly, the steel beams of its foundation stretching upward like the ribs of a massive leviathan.
Reaching the underside of the station, Bucky studied its network of cables and nodes, the lifelines that kept the station connected to the surface world. His enhanced vision picked out the main uplink - a thick bundle of optic fibres encased in titanium.
“Uplink located,” he reported.
“Destroy it,” Vos commanded.
Bucky reached for the cutting laser strapped to his chest. With a precise flick, the laser ignited, slicing cleanly through the uplink. Sparks and bubbles erupted as the severed fibres writhed like severed nerves, their lights blinking out.
“Uplink neutralised,” he said.
“Good work, Barnes. Now deploy the virus to their backup systems,” Vos replied.
Bucky swam to a secondary node, a large panel embedded in the station’s hull. He retrieved a small device - a virus-loaded transmitter - from a compartment in his belt and pressed it against the panel. The device clamped on and activated, its tendrils burrowing into the station’s network. Bucky watched as the lights on the panel flickered erratically, the virus spreading like a digital plague.
“Virus uploading,” Bucky reported.
As he waited, movement caught his eye. A group of divers emerged from the station, their figures illuminated by helmet lights. Engineers, no doubt responding to the severed uplink. Bucky’s enhanced hearing caught their voices through the water - a mixture of confusion and urgency.
He hesitated. Abyssus’s orders were clear: no witnesses. But these weren’t soldiers. They were civilians, unaware of the broader conflict unfolding around them.
“Virus upload at 80%,” Vos said in his ear. “Eliminate the divers before they compromise the mission.”
Bucky’s fingers tightened around the dart launcher strapped to his forearm. He aimed at the nearest diver, his targeting system locking on. But as his finger hovered over the trigger, a memory surfaced - a fragment of the man he’d once been. He saw himself as a soldier, defending the innocent, not destroying them.
“90%,” Vos barked. “What are you waiting for, Barnes?”
Bucky’s hand dropped. “They’re no threat,” he said, his voice low but firm.
“That’s not your decision,” Vos snapped. “Neutralise them. Now.”
The final light on the virus transmitter turned green. “Upload complete,” Bucky said, ignoring the order.
He tore the device from the panel and propelled himself away from the station. The divers remained oblivious to his presence, their helmet lights fading into the distance.
“Barnes, this is tantamount to insubordination.” Vos’s voice cut off as Bucky interrupted as though he hadn’t heard. “No witnesses,” he said, and he turned off the communicator, plunging himself into silence.
The station grew smaller behind him as he swam into the open ocean, his mind a storm of defiance and doubt. He’d completed the mission, but on his own terms. Abyssus had taken so much from him - his body, his freedom, his identity.
But tonight, he’d reclaimed a piece of his soul.
***
And now:
It was during a mission to capture the elusive Baron Helmut Zemo, a spy with connections to global intelligence networks, that Bucky’s fate shifted completely.
Zemo was no ordinary operative. Known for his cunning and charm, he had thwarted Abyssus’ plans on multiple occasions. Bucky’s mission was to bring him in, alive if possible, but his corpse would do just fine.
Bucky tracked Zemo’s movements using Abyssus' advanced surveillance technology. The Baron’s personal motorboat was equipped with sophisticated cloaking devices and evasion tech, but Bucky had spent months studying his patterns. He knew his next move - a rendezvous on an uninhabited island rumoured to be a dead drop for high-value intelligence.
Bucky caught up to the Baron’s boat en route with the precision of a predator, his gills filtering the saltwater with ease, the ocean his domain. The vibrations of the boat’s engines rippled through the water, guiding him like a beacon. When the moment was right, he surfaced in its wake, his metallic tail cutting effortlessly through the waves.
He had no need to board the vessel; the ocean was his battlefield, and he would draw Zemo into it.
Bucky kept close, just out of view. He activated the sonic modulator implanted in his throat - a new cruel gift from Abyssus. The technology enhanced his voice, imbuing it with an otherworldly resonance that carried across the water. It was a voice designed to command, to ensnare, to disarm.
Zemo adjusted the small motor of his boat, the Sirocco, keeping it steady as it cut through the moonlit waters. His mission was solitary by necessity - less chance of betrayal, fewer lives at risk.
He’d spent months investigating Abyssus and studying their most dangerous creation: Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.
Barnes’ transformation was no secret to Zemo. He’d pored over classified files, dissected his missions, and learned of the sinister experiments that had turned him into a weapon.
He let Abyssus intercept his ‘covert’ intel, let them discover the whereabouts of his island rendezvous.
All so that Barnes would come for him.
The first sound reached Zemo just past midnight - a low, haunting hum that carried over the waves. It was beautiful and sorrowful, tugging at something deep in his chest. Zemo stilled his breath, recognising it instantly. Sergeant Barnes was near, using the siren’s voice Abyssus had implanted in him to draw his enemies closer.
Then Bucky spoke, his words designed to misdirect. “Help me...” The voice floated across the water, filled with a raw, aching vulnerability. “Please... I can’t… please help me.”
Zemo gripped the rail of the boat, scanning the dark waves. “I know what you’re doing, James,” he called out, his voice sharp and steady. “I know who you are. And I know you don’t have to be this.”
The water rippled several metres off the starboard side. A shadow moved beneath the surface, sleek and fast, circling the boat like a predator. His voice came again, quieter now, unmodulated. “You don’t understand. It’s too late for me.”
“Is it?” Zemo challenged, leaning slightly over the rail, his eyes locked on the dark water. “You think I haven’t studied Abyssus? I know what they did to you. I know about the conditioning, the surgeries. And I know it didn’t destroy the man that you were.”
The circling stopped. The water stilled, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the hull. Then Bucky rose from the ocean, breaking the surface with a quiet grace. The upper part of his metal tail glimmered faintly in the moonlight. Water was streaming from his shoulders, down his bare chest. His gills fluttered as he inhaled, but his eyes - once sharp and calculating - looked haunted.
“You’re wrong,” Bucky said, his voice a low rasp. “They took everything. I don’t even remember who I was.”
“You were James Buchanan Barnes,” Zemo said firmly. “You were a soldier, a hero. And you’re still in there. I can see it.”
Bucky floated closer, until his hands were gripping the edge of Zemo’s boat. His strength was evident, the faint mechanical hum of his tail audible even above the water. “Why are you doing this? Why not just run?” Bucky’s ocean blue eyes searched Zemo’s face.
“Because I believe in you,” Zemo replied, kneeling to meet his gaze. “And because you’re the only one who can help me destroy Abyssus.”
Bucky flinched at the mention of the organisation, his expression twisting with a mix of pain and confusion. “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. “They’ll always control me.”
“They only control you because they’ve made you think that’s the only way,” Zemo said, his voice soft but insistent. “You think you’re a monster, but you’re not. You’re a man they tried to break.” He paused. “They didn’t succeed.”
Bucky stared at him, the tension in his body easing slightly. For a moment, the only sound was the quiet slosh of water. Then he whispered, almost to himself, “How do you know they didn’t?”
“Because monsters don’t hesitate,” Zemo said, reaching out to place a hand on his. “And you’re hesitating right now.”
The touch of Zemo’s warm hand on his startled Bucky, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, something shifted in his eyes - a flicker of the man he used to be. He let out a shuddering breath, his grip on the boat relaxing.
“They’ll come for me,” Bucky said finally, his voice heavy with resignation. “For us.”
“Let them,” Zemo said with a faint smile. “But first, let me help you remember who you are.” He paused again, rubbed his thumb along Bucky’s fingers as they held onto the side of the boat. “You’ve been sent to kill me, yes?” He studied Bucky with piercing eyes. "But you’re not their puppet," he added calmly. "Not really."
Bucky hesitated. Zemo’s words struck a chord he couldn’t ignore.
Zemo continued in a low voice. He spoke of Abyssus true intentions - a vision of global domination that would drown the world in chaos. He told Bucky again, using his soft accented voice, that he knew who Bucky truly was, what he once had stood for.
"You’ve been brainwashed, but I can help you break free," Zemo said, leaning closer. His voice was steady, his gaze unwavering. "You don’t have to be their weapon."
Bucky hesitated, the weight of Zemo’s words battling the fog in his mind. In that moment of doubt, Bucky felt the chains of Abyssus’ control crack and splinter.
*
Over the following weeks, Zemo helped Bucky unravel the layers of conditioning Abyssus had imposed on him.
Slowly, Bucky reclaimed his identity, his humanity, and the ideals he’d once fought for.
Their bond deepened as they now worked together to dismantle Abyssus from the shadows, sabotaging their operations and freeing others who had been enslaved by the organisation.
***
Epilogue:
The castle rose from the cliffs like a dream carved in stone, its towers and parapets overlooking the vast, endless expanse of the sea. Zemo had inherited it from a line of reclusive nobles, but in recent months, the castle had transformed into something more - a sanctuary for two lost souls finding their way together.
Bucky surfaced in the private lagoon that bordered the castle, water cascading from his metallic tail. The seawater shimmered under the late afternoon sun, its salty tang filling the air. A narrow channel had been carved into the rock, connecting the lagoon to the open ocean, allowing him the freedom to come and go as he pleased. The modifications to the castle had been Zemo’s idea, his sharp mind anticipating Bucky’s needs before he’d ever voiced them.
Bucky swam to the edge of the stone platform that jutted into the water. With a practiced motion, he hauled himself up, his tail coiling beneath him as he adjusted to the air. The gills along his neck fluttered shut, and he took a deep breath, the sharp edge of the salt air replaced by the subtler notes of lavender and fresh bread wafting from the castle.
Zemo appeared on the stone steps leading down to the lagoon, his auburn hair catching the sunlight. He was wearing knee length shorts and a short sleeved stripey t-shirt. He carried a small silver tray with two glasses of wine.
“You’re late,” he teased, setting the tray on a low table near the water’s edge.
Bucky smirked, his eyes glinting. “There was a pod of dolphins just offshore. I couldn’t resist.”
“Ah, the great Sergeant Barnes, master of stealth and sabotage, distracted by dolphins.” Zemo’s laughter was light, the sound carrying over the waves.
Bucky chuckled, pushing himself closer to the edge of the platform. “Even I need a break from saving the world - or ruining it, depending upon who you ask.”
Zemo joined him, sitting cross-legged on the warm stone. Passing Bucky a glass of wine, Zemo took a sip from his own. “You’ll never admit it, but I think you enjoy this quieter life.”
Bucky looked out at the sea, the horizon stretching endlessly before them. “It’s... different,” he admitted. “Peaceful. I never thought I’d have that.”
Zemo placed a hand over his, his touch grounding him. “You deserve it,” he said softly.
The castle itself had been transformed into a home that suited them both. The central courtyard housed a large saltwater pool, fed directly by the ocean and surrounded by lush greenery. Bucky spent much of his time there, the water giving him both freedom and comfort. A system of pipes and large chambers allowed seawater to flow through parts of the castle, creating a hybrid environment that blurred the lines between land and sea.
When he wasn’t swimming, he’d join Zemo in the upper chambers, where sunlight streamed through tall windows and bookshelves lined the walls. An indoor pool, fed from the sea water pipes, allowed Bucky to relax inside. He’d resisted at first, but over time, he’d grown to enjoy their quiet evenings here by the fire, reading, and trading observations about philosophy and history.
Their connection deepened in those moments, their shared silences speaking volumes. Zemo’s sharp wit matched Bucky’s dry humour, and Zemo’s relentless optimism softened the edges of Bucky’s hardened cynicism.
One evening, as the moon cast its silver glow over the lagoon, Bucky watched Zemo sketch by candlelight. His movements were fluid, his focus unwavering.
“What are you working on?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet.
Zemo glanced up, tilted his head. “You, actually.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”
Zemo held up the sketch - a detailed rendering of Bucky in the lagoon, the water rippling around his tail. “Flattered,” he said with a smile. “I don’t think you realise how striking you are, James.”
Bucky looked at the drawing, then at Zemo, his expression softening. “You’re the artist,” he said quietly. “You see things I don’t.”
“And you see things I can’t,” Zemo replied, setting the sketch aside.
Their life in the castle wasn’t without its challenges. Bucky’s scars - both physical and emotional - ran deep, and there were days when the weight of his past threatened to pull him under. But Zemo was always there, his unwavering belief in Bucky like a beacon in the storm.
In turn, Bucky protected Zemo with a ferocity that belied his calm demeanour. Zemo was the first person to see him as more than a weapon, the first to treat him as a man not a machine.
The world believed Sergeant Barnes was dead, and perhaps he was. But in his place, something stronger had risen - a man who had faced the abyss and come out whole, his heart and spirit unbroken.
And by his side was the man who had saved him, the Baron who had shown him the way back to himself. In their castle by the sea, they wrote a new story, one of love, redemption, and the unyielding power of the human spirit.
Together, they built a life on the edge of the world, where the land met the sea and their souls found peace
***