[ Nazi Base, Antarctica ]
All the well-known elites had tried, and all had failed. The hammer didn't so much as twitch. Not for Pierce. Not for the Councilors. Not for the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. had to offer.
Nick Fury was—though he didn't show it—secretly relieved. Power he couldn't control was a nightmare wrapped in tinsel. The hammer staying immovable was the best outcome he could hope for. Let the thing stay embedded in that cold floor forever.
He had originally planned to blow up the entire base, collect the prisoners, and return home to claim his hard-earned accolades. But this damned hammer threw a wrench in his celebration plans. He couldn't bring it with him, and leaving it out in the open like a galactic invitation was unacceptable. He needed a new plan.
Fury gathered a small circle of trusted subordinates. It was the kind of gathering where words weren't minced, and egos were shelved—temporarily. After the success of the mission, Daisy was now an official member of the inner circle.
"Set up a branch base in Antarctica. Keep it under strict control," Pierce suggested, voice full of great righteousness.
Daisy tilted her head slightly, hiding the amused smirk that tugged at her lips. She could see through Pierce's righteous tone like glass—he wanted a bargaining chip, a frozen card to play with the shadowy bosses of Hydra. But being the newcomer in the inner circle, she simply observed.
As expected, the idea didn't receive unanimous applause.
Coulson, ever the voice of reason and Fury's most trusted man, proposed an alternate solution: demolish the entire base and bury the hammer with molten metal. It would entomb the weapon deep within the Earth, rendering it inaccessible to anyone without massive industrial effort. Cheap, clean, and no magical storage locker required.
The SHIELD agents, especially the pragmatic ones, liked it. Hydra's representatives, however, began protesting with increasing desperation.
"What if molten metal causes adverse reactions? Explosions? Magnetic disruptions?" Pierce argued, his voice cracking under the weight of his own paranoia.
Daisy arched a perfectly sculpted brow. The explanation was desperate, but to be fair, not entirely wrong. Still, she mentally awarded Hydra a creativity point.
Back and forth the debate went. Resources versus security. Secrets versus scorched earth. In the end, Nick Fury banged his fist on the table—metaphorically—and made the executive decision.
"We keep the base. We keep the hammer."
Silence fell.
Then came the real awkward part.
"Who's staying behind to guard it?"
Suddenly, a room full of elite agents and top-level decision-makers became an audition for amateur actors.
Pierce, with a hand on his back, groaned about old age.
Another agent clutched his shoulder, bemoaning a phantom war injury.
Even Daisy played the game, pressing a hand to her stomach with a subtle wince. "Irregular menstruation. Unreliable moods. You wouldn't want me throwing daggers at the supply team, would you?"
Nick Fury stared blankly at them all. For a moment, the one-eyed pirate looked like he wanted to retire on the spot.
With a sigh, he turned to Coulson—the one honest man in a sea of professionals who could lie with their teeth.
"Coulson, congratulations. You've been promoted to Base Commander: Antarctica."
The poor man didn't even argue. Just nodded with a quiet dignity that made Daisy both respect him more and pity his future frostbite.
With the base's fate sealed, the main team prepared for departure. The prisoners were loaded onto carriers, chains clinking, while the agents hummed victory tunes.
The numbers were staggering. Nearly 1,500 Nazi combatants had been killed—executed with precise, surgical efficiency. Only a handful of SHIELD agents were injured. Their casualty count? Less than twenty. It was a clean, surgical, and brutal success.
And the prisoners? A mixed bag of dangerous oddities. A few were scientists preserved beyond their natural lifespans, while the majority were members of the Thule Society. They weren't just deluded extremists—they were the ideological forefathers of the German Workers' Party, close companions of Hitler, and true believers in Aryan supremacy.
Catching one of them would've caused diplomatic chaos.
Catching hundreds?
Nick Fury was grinning so hard it was a miracle his face didn't crack. For a brief moment, he even forgot his last name.
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[ S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Washington DC ]
At S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, pandemonium erupted. Heads of state, military officials, world leaders, and old-school diplomats descended on the facility like vultures to a carcass. Everyone wanted a look at history's worst kept secret.
Even Peggy Carter came out of retirement.
The legendary lady arrived in Washington escorted by her niece, Sharon Carter. Time had taken its toll on Peggy. The fire in her eyes was still there, but it flickered more than it burned.
Daisy observed quietly as Peggy looked over the captured Nazis, her expression carved from granite. The past clung to her like a second skin. Daisy knew what haunted her: Captain America.
But what's gone is gone.
Daisy had once skimmed confidential records during her free time in S.H.I.E.L.D. She suspected Peggy had been offered a second youth through experimental tech—but had turned it down. Captain America may still be Captain America, but is she still her?
More than sixty years have passed, and her original heart is no longer there. Rather than saying that she loves Captain America, it is better to say that she misses her own old days.
In the comic major event Maximoff Royal Family, Scarlet Witch changed reality and Captain America was not frozen. After the victory of the war, he married Peggy Carter. It seemed perfect at the beginning, but the marriage did not last long as they separated because of their different ideas.
They were legends, both of them. But when legends try to live among mortals again, things get messy. Captain America was too noble, too idealistic. A beautiful symbol… but not an easy man to live with.
Peggy Carter was not a submissive person. As Sharon said Peggy's words at the Peggy's funeral, "I give in when I can, but I won't give in when I can't!"
Both of them have strong personalities. Instead of regaining their youth and then quarreling and breaking up, it would be better for everyone to let the memories remain seventy years ago and let the story stay at the beginning.
Daisy listened to Peggy Carter telling her niece the story of the past. Daisy guessed that Sharon's view of love had been distorted since she was a child. In Sharon's heart, Captain America had become a mythological figure. If she hadn't met Captain America in the future, she might have been able to have a normal relationship. Unfortunately, fate played a joke on them.
And maybe, just maybe, Daisy should warn her fake bestie before she threw herself into that particular firepit. Then again, what business did Daisy have lecturing anyone on normal love?
The turmoil caused by the Nazis began to spread among high-level officials. It would be inhumane to hang these guys, but locking them up and interrogating them was inevitable.
The captured Nazis were being processed. Strangely, few of them revealed any valuable secrets. Most were eccentric scholars or isolated sociologists—brilliant minds twisted by hate, now too old to matter. Their connection to Hydra was tenuous at best.
Apparently, the real reason they'd been supported by the old devil Yashida was personal loyalty. A wartime bond.
Daisy raised an eyebrow at that. Loyalty? From Yashida?
In the original timeline, even Wolverine didn't hesitate to cut ties. But every interrogation, no matter how aggressive, came up dry. For now, she shelved her suspicion.
She had other things to focus on.
With a cache of adamantium now in hand, Daisy turned her attention to her new toys.
Real adamantium was nearly indestructible—its melting point upwards of 500,000 degrees Celsius. But this wasn't the pure stuff. This was secondary adamantium, diluted and more manageable.
Still, it was strong enough to carve through steel and durable enough to make even Daisy smile.
Daisy spent a month in SHIELD's logistics division, overseeing the crafting of her custom arsenal. Yashida's alloy blade had provided a baseline. Using the refined adamantium, she forged:
A heavy Western-style longsword, 80 centimeters in length and over 30 kilograms in weight.
A matching shield.
Two short sticks and twin daggers for close combat.
A set of soft armor.
She tested the weapons rigorously, she is good at sword fighting.
Elegant. Efficient. Lethal.
Just like her.
To Be Continued...
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[POWER STONES AND REVIEWS PLS]