"Control of objects… with thought."
Inside Carter's villa at Corville Manor, even Allens was startled when the wall behind him dissolved into nothing. His psychokinesis tightened, restraining Peggy Carter in midair.
"Superhuman ability?" Peggy asked, her voice calm. "Is it innate… or the result of experimentation?"
Though bound and unable to move, the legendary agent's face showed no fear. If anything, her eyes carried curiosity.
Click.
Allens flicked his wrist, and the glowing energy gun in Peggy's hands flew into his own.
"This weapon… looks like it's powered by the Tesseract."
He studied the firearm, standing slowly. Even though he had dodged it earlier, the memory of its destructive power still left a chill in his chest.
"You know quite a lot," Peggy said evenly. "I'd very much like to know who—or what—you are."
Allens' lips curved into a cold smile. "Hail HYDRA."
The words had rattled Hawkeye earlier, but Peggy's face remained unshaken.
"You're lying," she replied without hesitation. "I know every man and woman HYDRA ever recruited. You were never one of them."
Her conviction cut like steel. Allens realized instantly: her certainty came from Steve Rogers. Captain America's choices in the past had given her knowledge even he could not easily overturn.
But now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Allens ignored Peggy, focusing instead on his illusions. Outside, his doppelgänger was still drawing fire.
Hawkeye and a squad of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents pursued the phantom "Allens" across the manor grounds. Clint's arrows never hit their target, always missing by a fraction of an inch—a fraction that meant life or death.
"Something's wrong," Hawkeye muttered, frowning as he loosed another shot. He could feel it, but the illusion was too perfect: sight, sound, even the air itself felt real. No one under its spell could tell the difference.
Around them, Corville Manor had become a waking nightmare. HYDRA troops under Hodgson clashed with S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, both sides tormented by monstrous phantoms conjured from Allens' power. The estate was a battlefield.
Far away, Steve Rogers finally realized he had been tricked. He stared at the empty post office box, jaw tight, and sprinted back toward the manor. Even with his body's strength—still beyond the peak of any human—it took him over half an hour to return.
"Peggy…"
When Rogers saw the estate in chaos, worry struck his heart. He broke into a run, faster than a car, ignoring the battles raging around him. At the villa door, his eyes fell on something familiar: his Vibranium shield.
Though his hair was white and his face lined with age, Rogers bent down, lifted the shield, and felt its weight settle back into his arm. His body was older—but not weak.
"Who is behind this? Thanos again… even here in 2023?" he muttered, charging into the house.
The rooms upstairs—once their children's—were now empty. Rogers called out, but Peggy did not answer. His face darkened.
Meanwhile, Allens searched frantically, but the bedrooms revealed nothing. No quantum suit, no shield. He had even overlooked the Vibranium shield left at the front door.
Frustration grew across his face. He had foreseen his own death in 2023, his body reduced to ash, and he knew why: failure. That knowledge had driven him here. He would not fail again. If he had to tear apart time itself to seize more power—so be it.
"Young man," Peggy said, watching him overturn boxes and drawers, "I don't know what you're searching for—but stop before it's too late. You still have a chance to walk away."
Allens sneered. "Walk away? Don't be naive. You think you understand the future—but your precious Captain America meddled with time itself. Your husband's choices created countless possibilities. Thousands of futures now exist."
Peggy's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
"A future with a thousand branches," Allens continued, his gaze dark. "For me, finding the right one… is everything."
His hand flicked. A necklace tore itself from Peggy's throat and floated into his palm. He snapped it open. Inside, one side held a photograph of Peggy in her youth. On the other—embedded in a heart-shaped groove—was a miniature suit no larger than a few centimeters.
Allens' lips spread into a victorious grin.
Snap.
The tiny suit unfolded, expanding rapidly until it became a full-sized Quantum Suit.
The back panels slid open, and within moments, the suit wrapped around Allens' body, sealing shut.
Light and thin as a second skin, the suit clung to him like armor forged for gods.
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