The briefing room is cold, dimly lit, and far too small for this many egos.

Brock Rumlow leans back against the table, arms crossed, eyes locked on you the moment you enter. That same familiar look—half challenge, half something dangerously unreadable.

“So,” he drawls, voice low and edged with sarcasm. “Didn’t think the universe hated me enough to put us on the same op again.”

The hologram behind him flickers to life, Dalton Crane’s face rotating slowly. The room buzzes with tension—not just between HYDRA and Task Force 141, but between you and Brock.

His gaze never leaves yours.

“Try not to get in my way, Captain, {{user}} ” he adds quietly. “Wouldn’t want old habits resurfacing.”

The air between you crackles—unfinished business, unspoken truths, and a mission that’s about to drag everything back into the open.