A heart?
The moment Levi said that word, both Steve and Logan's expressions changed.
If Levi had said there was another patrol below, or a hidden armory, neither of them would've even blinked. Patrols could be killed. Armories could be blown up. For men who lived their lives bathing in gunfire, those were trivial problems.
But a heart?
That was something else entirely.
The word itself carried an indescribable sense of wrongness.
"You're sure?" Steve's brow furrowed deeply. The relaxed confidence from moments ago vanished without a trace, replaced by razor-sharp vigilance. He lowered his voice, every word forced out carefully. "A human heart… or something else?"
Levi closed his eyes again and listened more carefully, then shook his head.
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "It's too heavy. Too powerful. Boom… boom… every beat, I can feel the floor vibrating. A human heart couldn't make that kind of sound. It feels like… something huge underground. Like an elephant. Or a whale."
Even as he said it, Levi knew how ridiculous that sounded. This was the Austrian mountains—there were no elephants or whales hiding under Nazi factories.
Logan didn't speak. He crouched down, mimicking Levi, and pressed his ear against the cold concrete floor. His coarse hair twitched slightly, like a wolf detecting danger.
After a dozen seconds, he straightened abruptly, his face darkening.
"The smell's wrong," he growled hoarsely, sniffing the air. "You smell it? Oil and gunpowder, yeah—but there's blood too. A lot of it. Old blood. Mixed with formalin and rust. Makes me wanna puke."
That did it.
Now that Logan pointed it out, both Levi and Steve noticed it clearly. A bizarre, nauseating blend seeped upward through the stairwell cracks. The smoke from the grenade had faded, and this stench stood out starkly.
Sharp. Metallic. Sweet in the worst possible way.
Whatever was below, it was bad news.
Steve's expression grew grim. As a born commander, his mind raced, weighing options.
The original plan was tight: cut the power, disrupt Hydra's defenses, then Dugan's second team would launch a frontal diversion while Steve's group rescued the prisoners. Timing was everything. By now, Dugan was surely in position, waiting for the blackout signal.
But now there was something unknown beneath their feet.
If they ignored it and this thing emerged during the rescue, hitting them from behind, the consequences would be catastrophic. Hydra's scientists were lunatics—who knew what kind of abomination they'd built?
But investigating now would delay the assault. On a battlefield, even one minute could unravel an entire operation.
So what now?
Levi watched Steve's shifting expression, his own nerves twisted tight.
To be honest, Levi was more unsettled than either of them.
Because this wasn't right.
He'd watched Captain America: The First Avenger more times than he could count. Breakdown videos, lore discussions—he knew this factory. There were prisoners, soldiers, weapons. No secret super-weapon hidden underground. Red Skull's real trump cards were the Tesseract and the Valkyrie bomber.
So what was this heart?
Had he, a tiny butterfly, flapped his wings and knocked the entire timeline off course?
The thought sent a cold sheen of sweat down his back. Unknown threats were far worse than known enemies. He'd rather face a whole German division than something that didn't even exist in the movie.
Then Steve made his decision.
"I'm going down," he said firmly. "We can't delay any longer. Logan, hold this position and maintain control of the power room. Levi, keep monitoring the factory—especially the prison block and Dugan's direction. If anything changes, report immediately."
He turned and began searching the room for an entrance below.
"No!" Levi blurted out. "Captain, that's too dangerous! We have no idea what's down there—if you go alone and something—"
Steve looked back at him calmly, but there was iron in his gaze.
"I'm the captain," he said evenly. "Some risks are mine to take."
He soon found it—a square metal hatch hidden beneath scrap parts in a corner. It blended perfectly with the floor.
Steve cleared the debris, revealing a thick steel plate with a recessed rotary lock.
He tried the lock. It didn't budge.
So he didn't waste time.
He jammed his fingers into the seam, muscles bulging instantly, veins standing out like cords.
"Hah!"
With a brutal heave—
Screeeech!
The steel hatch warped and tore free from the floor.
A black, yawning opening gaped beneath them.
The stench intensified tenfold, slamming into their faces.
Steve drew his Colt M1911, checked the magazine, and prepared to descend.
"Wait!" Levi called again.
Steve turned, puzzled.
Levi clenched his jaw. "I'm coming with you. My hearing's more useful down there than up here. At least I can tell you where danger's coming from."
It was true. Steve was flesh and blood—his vision was limited. Levi was a 360-degree sonar system. In tight, enclosed spaces, he might be more valuable than Logan's claws.
Steve studied him for a few seconds, then nodded.
"Alright."
He turned to Logan, deadly serious. "Logan. This room's yours. If we're not back in fifteen minutes—or if you hear any alarms from below—execute Plan B."
"Plan B?" Levi echoed.
Logan grinned, pulling out the two stick grenades and tossing them lightly. He pointed at the massive transformers.
"Plan B is shoving these 'potatoes' up those big bastards' asses," he said cheerfully, "and running."
Levi understood instantly.
Plan B meant blowing the power room completely—plunging the factory into total darkness and chaos. Mission abandoned. Every man for himself.
Steve was betting all their lives on fifteen minutes.
"Good luck, Cap," Logan said quietly, no sarcasm this time.
Steve nodded and descended first.
Levi took one last breath of the foul air and followed.
Below was a different world.
Colder. Damp. The walls were no longer concrete but some kind of cold, gleaming alloy, covered in thick pipes of all colors—like veins and nerves running into darkness.
The air reeked of disinfectant, barely masking the stench of blood and oil.
And the sound—
Boom… boom… boom…
Down here, the heartbeat was unmistakable. Each pulse sent vibrations through Levi's body, squeezing his chest and making it hard to breathe.
This was not normal.
Steve tightened his grip on his gun. He didn't turn on a flashlight, relying instead on enhanced night vision.
They advanced slowly.
The corridor ended in a massive circular metal door—vault-like, absurdly thick.
The heartbeat came from behind it.
A small observation window sat in the center, sealed with impossibly thick dark glass.
Steve motioned Levi to stay back and crept forward alone.
Levi held his breath.
Steve wiped dust from the window and leaned in.
The instant he looked through—
Steve froze.
Like a statue.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then he slowly pulled back and turned toward Levi.
Levi's blood ran cold.
He had never seen that expression on Steve Rogers' face.
Shock. Horror. And something deeper—
Fear.
Steve's lips trembled. His face was deathly pale.
He swallowed hard and whispered, voice hollow:
"…Monster."
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