Steve Rogers slips into a dimly lit room in the Hydra factory, his eyes adjusting to the shadows. On a table, Bucky Barnes lies strapped down, his voice a hollow chant. “Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven.”

“Bucky? Oh, my God,” Steve breathes, rushing to unfasten the straps.

Bucky’s dazed eyes focus on him. “Is that…”

“It’s me. It’s Steve,” Steve says, his voice urgent.

“Steve?” Bucky murmurs, disbelief flickering.

“Come on,” Steve urges, steadying him. “I thought you were dead.”

Steve helps him sit up, his own relief palpable. “I thought you were smaller,” Bucky adds, staring at Steve’s transformed physique.

Steve glances at a map on the wall, marking Hydra facilities. “Come on.”

Bucky, unsteady, lets Steve support him as they leave the lab. “What happened to you?”

“I joined the Army,” Steve replies, a faint grin breaking through.

Outside, the 107th prisoners surge through the compound, commandeering Hydra’s futuristic tanks. Explosions erupt as they demolish guard towers, Hydra troops, and the perimeter fence, their escape nearly unopposed.

Inside, Steve and Bucky navigate back toward the bridge over the factory floor. “Did it hurt?” Bucky asks, his voice weak.

“A little,” Steve answers.

“Is this permanent?” Bucky presses, eyeing Steve’s muscular frame.

“So far,” Steve says, guiding him forward.

A control panel timer in the factory reaches 0:00…