The S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility was a study in controlled paranoia.
Su Chen arrived at 0745 hours, passing through six security checkpoints before reaching the subterranean level where they'd prepared Rogers' revival chamber. Each checkpoint required biometric verification, and Su Chen could feel the concealed weapons tracking his movement—sniper positions, automated turrets, and agents with orders to eliminate threats instantly.
"Impressive security," Su Chen commented as Agent Coulson met him at the final checkpoint.
"We're reviving a super soldier who was frozen for seventy years," Coulson replied. "If he wakes up hostile or disoriented, he could tear through this facility before we stop him. Director Fury doesn't take chances."
They walked through sterile corridors, passing medical personnel who moved with practiced efficiency. Through his Dual Pupils, Su Chen could see the underlying tension—everyone knew they were attempting something unprecedented.
"What exactly do you need from me?" Su Chen asked.
"Containment, if necessary," Coulson explained. "Our medical team will handle the revival protocols, but if Captain Rogers wakes up confused or aggressive, we need someone who can restrain him without causing permanent injury. You demonstrated with David Chen that you can withstand significant physical force. We're hoping that capability extends to super soldier strength."
"It does," Su Chen confirmed. "Though I'd prefer not to fight Captain America on his first day in the 21st century. That seems like poor introduction."
"We all prefer that," Coulson agreed. "Which is why you'll also be helping with the psychological transition. Rogers will wake up to a world where everyone he knew is dead, his war is over, and technology has advanced beyond anything he'd recognize. That kind of displacement could break someone."
They entered the observation room overlooking the medical chamber. Through reinforced glass, Su Chen could see Steve Rogers lying on a specialized table, still partially frozen, surrounded by equipment that monitored every biological function.
Director Fury stood at the observation window, his single eye fixed on Rogers with an intensity that spoke of years of planning finally coming to fruition.
"Mr. Su Chen," Fury greeted without turning. "Thank you for coming. I trust Agent Coulson explained your role?"
"Containment and psychological support," Su Chen confirmed, moving to stand beside Fury. "Though I'm curious—why revive him now? You could have waited, prepared more extensively."
"Because the world doesn't have the luxury of waiting," Fury replied bluntly. "Threats are escalating. The Tesseract incident, enhanced individuals appearing with increasing frequency, intelligence suggesting extraterrestrial interest in Earth—we need people who can respond to these situations. Rogers is the first super soldier, a proven tactical genius, and a symbol that can unite others. We need him operational."
Through the glass, medical personnel began the final revival sequence. Specialized equipment pumped heated, oxygenated fluid through Rogers' system, gradually raising his core temperature while preventing tissue damage.
"His vitals are stabilizing," a doctor reported over the intercom. "Brain activity increasing. He's regaining consciousness."
Su Chen watched with genuine interest as Captain America returned to life. The serum in Rogers' blood had preserved him perfectly—seventy years frozen, and his body showed no deterioration. More impressive was the energy signature Su Chen detected with his silver pupil. The super soldier serum had fundamentally altered Rogers at a cellular level, creating a perfect human specimen that would have made even Perfect World cultivators envious.
"Not quite cultivation," Su Chen murmured to himself, "but remarkable for a scientific achievement."
Rogers' eyes snapped open.
For a moment, he lay still, his enhanced perception processing the unfamiliar ceiling, the strange equipment, the absence of the plane's controls. Then his tactical mind reached a conclusion, and he moved.
It was like watching a coiled spring release. One second Rogers was lying still, the next he'd torn through the medical restraints, rolled off the table, and assumed a combat stance—all before the medical personnel could react.
Alarms blared instantly. Armed guards burst into the medical chamber, weapons trained on Rogers, who assessed them with a speed that suggested his mind was operating faster than normal perception.
"Stand down!" Rogers commanded in a voice that carried absolute authority. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will defend myself. Where am I? What happened to the plane?"
"Captain Rogers," a doctor stepped forward carefully, hands visible and empty. "Please remain calm. You're safe. You've been recovered from the Arctic—"
"The Arctic?" Rogers interrupted, his eyes scanning for exits, weapons, anything he could use. "How long?"
The doctor hesitated, clearly uncertain how to deliver the news.
"Seventy years," Su Chen's voice cut through the tension as he entered the medical chamber, moving past the guards with deliberate calm. "You crashed the Valkyrie into the Arctic in 1945, Captain Rogers. You've been frozen since then. Today is the year 2012."
Rogers' eyes locked onto Su Chen, assessing threat level and calculating options. "Who are you?"
"My name is Su Chen. I'm a consultant working with the organization that recovered you—the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We call it S.H.I.E.L.D. for short." He kept his hands visible, his posture non-threatening but confident. "I know this is disorienting, Captain. But you're not in danger. These people risked a great deal to bring you back."
"Seventy years," Rogers repeated, the words seeming to hit him physically. "The war... Peggy... Bucky..."
"The war ended," Su Chen confirmed gently. "The Allies won. You won, Captain. The sacrifice you made—crashing that plane—prevented Red Skull's weapons from reaching American cities. You saved millions of lives."
Rogers' combat stance faltered slightly as the implications sank in. "And Peggy? The Howling Commandos?"
Su Chen's expression carried calculated compassion. "I think those are conversations better had somewhere more comfortable than a medical bay. You're not a prisoner, Captain Rogers. You're a hero who's been given a second chance. But adjusting to this new world... that's going to take time."
Fury's voice came through the intercom. "Captain Rogers, I'm Director Nick Fury. Su Chen is right—you're not in danger, and you're not our prisoner. But we do need to conduct some medical evaluations to ensure the revival process didn't cause any complications. After that, we can discuss your situation more completely."
Rogers looked between Su Chen, the medical staff, and the guards. His tactical mind was clearly processing options and probabilities. Finally, he straightened from his combat stance.
"Alright," he said, though his body remained ready to react. "Medical evaluation. But I want answers after that. Real answers, not corporate double-talk."
"You'll get them," Fury assured him.
The medical evaluation took three hours. Rogers cooperated but remained vigilant, his enhanced senses constantly monitoring his surroundings. Su Chen stayed present throughout, answering occasional questions and providing context that helped Rogers process the situation.
"So Schmidt... Red Skull... he's dead?" Rogers asked during one break between tests.
"The Tesseract—the power source Red Skull was using—apparently transported him somewhere when he tried to use it directly," Su Chen explained. "His fate is unknown, but he hasn't been seen since 1945. Most intelligence agencies consider him deceased."
"Most?" Rogers caught the qualifier.
"I prefer not to assume powerful enemies are dead until I've confirmed it personally," Su Chen replied. "Call it paranoia, but it's kept me alive."
Rogers studied him with the assessing gaze of someone trained in reading people. "You talk like a soldier. Where did you serve?"
"I didn't serve conventionally," Su Chen said carefully. "My background is... complicated. But I've fought in conflicts, faced enemies that threatened innocents, and made difficult choices to protect people who couldn't protect themselves. I imagine you understand that."
"Yeah," Rogers said quietly. "I do."
By the time the medical evaluation concluded, Rogers had been cleared—physically perfect, mentally sharp despite the temporal displacement, and still possessing the tactical genius that had made him legendary. But the psychological toll was evident. Every reference to the modern era carried weight, every reminder that he'd lost seventy years visibly impacted him.
Fury met them in a conference room designed to be less clinical than the medical bay. Coulson was present, along with several S.H.I.E.L.D. officers who looked at Rogers with barely concealed awe.
"Captain Rogers," Fury began, "I'm not going to sugarcoat this. You've lost seventy years. Everyone you knew from your old life is either dead or elderly. The world has changed in ways you'll find difficult to comprehend. Technology, culture, politics—everything is different."
Rogers' jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I understand."
"But here's what hasn't changed," Fury continued. "People still need protecting. Threats still need stopping. Heroes still need leading. You spent your life fighting for what was right, Captain. That purpose doesn't have an expiration date."
"You want me to fight again," Rogers stated flatly.
"I want you to do what you were always meant to do," Fury corrected. "Protect people. Lead by example. Be the symbol that inspires others to be better. The world needs Captain America, Steve. Maybe more now than it did in 1945."
Rogers was silent for a long moment. "And if I say no? If I want to just... walk away?"
"Then you can," Fury replied, surprising everyone. "You've given enough, Captain. Nobody would blame you for wanting to rest. But I don't think you will. I don't think you can. Because Steve Rogers doesn't walk away from people who need help."
It was masterful manipulation disguised as respect. Fury was appealing to Rogers' core nature while framing it as a choice. Rogers would accept because refusing would contradict everything he believed about himself.
"I need time," Rogers said finally. "Time to understand this new world before I make decisions about fighting in it."
"Fair enough," Fury agreed. "We'll set you up with quarters, provide resources to help you adjust, and give you space to process. But Captain—" he leaned forward, "—when you're ready, we'll be here. Because threats are coming. And we need the best."
After the meeting concluded, Su Chen walked with Rogers through the facility. The super soldier moved with controlled tension, clearly processing the massive displacement he'd experienced.
"It's overwhelming, isn't it?" Su Chen said quietly. "Everything you knew, everyone you cared about—gone. And you're expected to just adapt and move forward."
"You sound like you have experience with that," Rogers observed.
"I do," Su Chen replied truthfully. "I've lost people, lost entire communities to circumstances beyond my control. The displacement you're feeling—I understand it."
Rogers stopped, turning to face Su Chen directly. "Why are you here? Really. Fury has plenty of people who could babysit me. Why assign someone like you?"
"Because I'm not here to babysit you," Su Chen said honestly. "I'm here because when you wake up in a world you don't understand, surrounded by people who want to use you, you need at least one person who'll be straight with you."
"And you're that person?" Rogers challenged.
"I'm trying to be," Su Chen replied. "Look, Captain—Steve—Fury is right that the world needs heroes. But he's also running an intelligence organization with its own agenda. S.H.I.E.L.D. will use you if you let them. They'll position you where you serve their purposes, send you on missions that advance their objectives, and frame everything as patriotic duty."
Rogers' expression hardened. "And you're different?"
"I'm transparent," Su Chen corrected. "I'm building a network of enhanced individuals—people with abilities beyond normal humans. My goal is to be positioned to respond to threats that conventional forces can't handle. I think you'd be an asset to that network. But I'm not going to dress it up as anything other than what it is—recruiting someone I think is valuable."
Rogers studied him for a long moment. "At least you're honest about it. That's more than most spies manage."
"I'm not a spy," Su Chen said. "I'm someone trying to prepare for threats I know are coming. And I'd rather do that with Captain America as an ally than as someone I have to work around."
"What threats?" Rogers asked.
Su Chen considered his response carefully. "How much do you know about the Tesseract—the weapon Red Skull was developing?"
"It was a power source. Hydra used it to create devastating weapons."
"It's more than that," Su Chen explained. "The Tesseract is one of six objects that embody fundamental aspects of reality. Space, Time, Reality, Power, Mind, and Soul. Red Skull only scratched the surface of what it could do. And there are entities in this universe—and beyond it—who want to collect all six."
Rogers' tactical mind immediately grasped the implications. "If someone collected all six of these objects..."
"They could reshape reality according to their will," Su Chen confirmed. "That's the scale of threat we're facing, Steve. Not just criminals or terrorists, but beings with the power to threaten existence itself."
"And you expect me to believe this?" Rogers challenged. "That sounds like science fiction."
"You were frozen for seventy years and revived by an organization you've never heard of, in a world with technology that would seem like magic to someone from 1945," Su Chen pointed out. "At what point does science fiction become just science?"
Rogers couldn't argue with that logic. He looked out a window showing New York City's skyline—buildings that would have been impossible in his time, technology that would have seemed fantastical, a world utterly transformed.
"I need time to process all of this," Rogers said finally. "But Su Chen—thank you. For being straight with me. That means something."
"Anytime, Captain," Su Chen replied. "And when you're ready to talk more, about any of this, you know where to find me."
As Su Chen departed the facility, he felt satisfied with the outcome. He hadn't recruited Rogers—not yet—but he'd established himself as someone who spoke truthfully rather than manipulatively. In the coming weeks, as Rogers struggled to adapt to the modern era, Su Chen would be positioned as a resource and potential ally.
"Master," Babata's voice carried approval. "That was well-handled. Rogers is predisposed to trust people who demonstrate honesty and moral clarity. You've positioned yourself optimally in his perception."
"The foundation is laid," Su Chen agreed. "Now we let it develop naturally. Rogers needs time to adjust before we can fully recruit him. Meanwhile, what's the status of Jessica's operation?"
"Completed successfully," Babata reported. "Saeko and Jessica neutralized the trafficking ring with zero civilian casualties and minimal property damage. Jessica is now fully committed to the network—Saeko's combat capabilities convinced her that your resources are legitimate."
"Excellent," Su Chen said. "And Luke Cage?"
"Still considering, but trending positive. He's been researching you through independent channels, verifying claims. Everything he's found supports your stated positions."
Su Chen smiled as he exited the facility into New York's morning light. In the span of a week, he'd stabilized the Tesseract, infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D., begun recruiting street-level heroes, established mentorship over an emerging enhanced individual, and made first contact with Captain America.
The Marvel Universe was proving even more fertile ground than anticipated.