Chapter 7: The Frozen Sanctuary
The wind howled across the vast, icy wasteland, carrying with it the weight of absolute solitude. Towering glaciers stretched as far as the eye could see, their surfaces gleaming under the pale light of the sun. The world was quiet here—undisturbed, untouched.
It was perfect.
Alex stood atop a frozen ridge, staring at the endless expanse of white.
"Antarctica."
This place... it felt right. It was cold, harsh, and isolated—just like him.
His body, forever changed by Hydra's experiments, no longer registered temperature. He didn't feel warmth, nor did he shiver in the freezing winds. He could stand amidst the most brutal blizzards, untouched by nature's wrath.
And he loved snow.
There was something about the way it fell, silent and pure, that soothed the storm raging inside him.
"This will do."
For the first time since his escape, he felt a sense of peace.
Here, in the heart of the frozen wasteland, he would rebuild himself.
Six Months Later
Time passed differently in solitude. There were no clocks, no sunrises that mattered, no voices to interrupt his thoughts.
Only silence.
And in that silence, Alex grew.
Every day, he trained.
He pushed his abilities beyond their limits, forcing himself to master the elemental power that Hydra had awakened within him. At first, it was difficult—his control was wild, unstable. Fire would lash out unpredictably, lightning would spark and vanish before he could contain it, and the wind, while easier to manipulate, was still far from perfect.
But as the months went by, something changed.
His mind sharpened.
Maybe it was the solitude. Maybe it was the unrelenting focus. Or maybe, just maybe, his connection to the elements was growing stronger.
Regardless, after six months, he had achieved what once seemed impossible—complete control.
Now, he could summon a storm with a flick of his wrist, shape ice into intricate forms with nothing but a thought, and command the very winds to carry him across the sky as if he were weightless.
His vibranium-infused bones had also adapted. His body moved with fluid precision, his strikes carrying an unnatural strength that could shatter solid ice like glass.
He was no longer the weak, broken prisoner of Hydra.
He was something more.
A Decision Made
One night, standing beneath the endless Antarctic sky, Alex stared at the distant stars.
He thought of her.
Wanda.
Six months had passed, but her face was still burned into his mind—the way she had looked at him before leaving, the warmth of her lips against his.
"I will return for you."
She had said those words, and even now, they echoed in his soul.
He knew where she was.
New York.
That was where it all was happening—the battle with Ultron, the rise of the Avengers, the chaos of the world he once knew only as fiction.
And Wanda was there, in the heart of it all.
He exhaled slowly, his breath forming a mist in the air.
"It's time."
With a final glance at the frozen land he had called home, Alex stepped forward. The wind obeyed his call, swirling around him as his feet left the ground.
Higher and higher he rose, the icy terrain shrinking beneath him.
He turned his gaze northward.
Toward her.
And then, with a burst of speed, he flew—leaving behind the frozen silence of Antarctica, and heading straight for the storm that awaited him in New York.