On the training grounds of Camp Lehigh, the trainer’s voice booms as the dust settles. “It was a dummy grenade. All clear. Back in formation.”

Steve Rogers, still crouched over the spot where the grenade landed, looks up at Peggy Carter, his eyes searching. “Is this a test?” he asks, his voice low but steady.

Colonel Phillips, standing nearby, shakes his head with a wry grimace. “He’s still skinny.”

The scene shifts to the dim, quiet barracks at night, where Steve sits alone on his bunk, restless. Dr. Abraham Erskine appears in the doorway, his silhouette soft against the faint light. “May I?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, his voice quiet in the empty room.

Erskine steps inside, his expression warm but weary. “Can’t sleep?”

“I got the jitters, I guess,” Steve admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Me, too,” Erskine says, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Steve looks at him, hesitant but curious. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Just one?” Erskine replies, his tone light but his eyes serious.

“Why me?” Steve asks, the weight of the question hanging in the air.

Erskine holds up a bottle of liquor, its label catching the dim light. “I suppose that is the only question that matters,” he says. “This is from Augsburg. My city.”