"So…" Rogers raised his head, his voice cautious. "We won?"
"That's right." Shen He nodded. "Although I am not an American, in terms of the outcome of the war, the Allied forces achieved victory worldwide. The Axis powers were defeated." He studied Rogers carefully. "How do you feel now? I mean, mentally. Any dizziness, nausea, or discomfort?"
"I'm fine." Rogers shook his head slightly.
The discipline of a soldier helped him recover from his long dormancy, but waking up in an unfamiliar environment still left him unsettled.
"In that case, follow me. We'll run some simple tests," Shen He said with a smile, gesturing toward the door. "Once we confirm everything is fine, you'll be cleared for discharge."
"Okay." Rogers straightened up. "Thank you."
Outside the room, a long hospital corridor stretched ahead, the air thick with the sterile scent of disinfectant. Nurses moved swiftly between rooms, representing a diversity of ethnicities.
"We're an international private organization called Chaldea," Shen He explained as he led the way. "You may not have heard of us, but we have considerable influence. Initially, we were commissioned to locate the remains of war heroes, but instead, we found you—alive. That news made a lot of people very happy, especially your fans. We decided to cover all your medical expenses and ensure your recovery."
"Thank you…"
Rogers followed Shen He out of the building, taking in the sight of a large, enclosed facility with numerous structures inside its perimeter. Just beyond the main gates, he spotted bustling city streets. The scene looked unmistakably like New York, though its details felt somewhat… off.
A large crowd gathered at the gates, holding signs and banners. At the moment they saw him, the onlookers erupted in cheers.
"Those are your fans." Shen He sighed. "They show up here almost every day. To be honest, it's a security risk, and their presence disrupts other patients, so we only allow a few representatives to enter. Speaking of which, here comes one now."
A middle-aged man in a Captain America-themed shirt approached, his excitement barely contained.
"Captain Rogers! It's an honor!" The man grasped Rogers' hand in a firm shake, his face beaming with admiration. "I'm Phil Coulson. I never thought I'd have the chance to meet you in person. May I—?"
He hesitated before continuing, but his eyes shone with hope.
"May I give you a hug? As a gesture of gratitude for everything you've done for this country—for all of us."
"Of course," Rogers replied, though still slightly disoriented. "Thank you."
He returned Coulson's hug, feeling the weight of the man's emotions in the embrace.
"You've never let us down, Captain," Coulson whispered.
Shen He smirked. "Well, Coulson, you'll soon see your hero discharged." Then he turned to Rogers and motioned forward. "This way, please."
"…Doctor?"
Rogers hesitated, unsure of how to address him.
"Shen He," he introduced himself. "I'm from China, currently managing Chaldea's U.S. branch. If my full name is difficult, just call me Shen or He."
"Understood, Mr. Shen." Rogers nodded, then hesitated. "I don't know if it's possible, but… can I contact someone?" His voice dropped slightly. "I had… a date."
Shen He stopped in his tracks, turning to face him directly. After a brief pause, he sighed.
"If you mean Ms. Carter… then I'm afraid she's married."
Silence fell between them. Rogers' expression froze, his mouth opening slightly as if to speak—but no words came.
"I know your story," Shen He continued. "It's touching. But you can't blame her. The entire world believed you were lost in battle. Ms. Carter grieved for a long time before moving on. In fact…" He hesitated. "We haven't informed her that you're alive. Her health has been deteriorating recently."
"I… I just…"
Rogers took an unsteady step back, his mind a whirlwind of emotions.
"Are you alright, Mr. Rogers?" Shen He asked with genuine concern.
"I'm fine… let's proceed with the tests."
Reality was sinking in. Rogers realized that while he had survived, much of what he cherished had been lost.
"Once you're discharged, you can decide for yourself whether or not to see her."
Shen He's words carried an implicit message—one Rogers understood all too well.
They arrived at another building. Above its thick doors was an emblem: a crescent moon wrapped in straw. The distant sound of gunfire echoed from within.
"This is Chaldea's training ground." Shen He opened the doors.
Inside, the facility was massive. Recruits engaged in various combat exercises—live-fire drills, hand-to-hand combat, and weapons training.
Rogers observed their movements carefully. These were not casual trainees or hobbyists. They were warriors, honing lethal skills.
"The war… isn't over?" He sensed the unmistakable atmosphere of battle readiness.
"For civilians, yes." Shen He nodded, then shook his head. "Most of the world enjoys peace, but conflict hasn't disappeared. There are those who seek to shatter that peace—hidden threats lurking in the shadows. Chaldea's mission is to find them… and eliminate them."
"So, you're mercenaries?" Rogers frowned. "Are all of these people soldiers?"
"No one here is a soldier, Mr. Rogers," Shen He said, handing him a pair of gloves. "Not even you. You've retired." He smiled faintly. "Officially, our full name is The Human Resources Protection Agency. We prefer the title guardians."
Rogers studied the gloves before taking them.
"So… what's next for you?" Shen He asked, his tone casual. "I mean, your life—after retirement."
Rogers hesitated. The question caught him off guard. In the past, his purpose had been clear: fight for his country, protect those who couldn't protect themselves. The battlefield was simple—punch the bad guys, block with the shield, repeat.
But now? The war was over. His best friend was gone. Carter had moved on. He had no home, no mission.
"…I don't know."
"That's alright," Shen He said with a shrug. "Living a normal life isn't a bad thing. You're a hero—people respect you. There's honor in that." He gestured toward the training area. "For now, let's focus on the test."
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion shook the entire building. The floor trembled beneath their feet.
"ALERT! HIGHEST SECURITY PROTOCOL INITIATED! ENEMY INVASION DETECTED! ALL UNITS, ARM AND ENGAGE AT WILL!"
The voice over the intercom was calm, yet its message sent a shockwave through the facility.
All around them, personnel sprang into action with well-practiced efficiency. The training ground's walls slid open, revealing racks of high-tech weapons. The sharp sound of firearms being loaded filled the space.
Rogers' instincts flared to life. His confusion about the present—his uncertainty about the future—all of it momentarily faded.
The battle was coming to him.