The next day, Schmidt brought Erik back to his office
"My boy, I am almost disappointed in you." Schmidt said, ponderously. "Ve had such a breakthrough yesterday, but you not only allowed yourself to be recaptured, but you made no attempt at escape despite your grand abilities."
Erik did not respond.
"The locks upon your door are metal. Such small amounts compared to vat you haff manipulated before." Schmidt said, casually. "So, vat is it you lack? Certainly not motivation. You had that in spades, but still, you failed." He spoke as though he himself had not been the one to pull the trigger. "Interesting how you could not stop the gun, but you could create such a flurry that ve vere able to pull the pieces of the Fuhrer's infernal machine from the mudslide, even if ve did haff to lay new tracks."
"Your father is safe, for now, Erik." Schmidt declared. "For now. Please, understand that I do not like to punish von of my own, especially not von vith as much potential as you. But some things are qvite necessary to realize a grand vision. On that much, I can agree vith the Fuhrer und his little red friend."
"So, I vill as that you return to the first hurdle. Just to ensure that you still haff the correct mindset." Schmidt placed the coin on his desk again. "Move the coin und you will ensure your father's safety another day."
Erik put one hand up, then the other. He struggled to move the coin even a millimeter. He pushed it, pulled it, wiggled it left and right mere micrometers, almost indistinguishable from stillness as blood flowed down Erik's nose into his open mouth.
Schmidt had his eyes locked solidly on the coin as Erik collapsed to the ground.
"Vell, I suppose that is all we can expect after that showing yesterday. Like any skill, it will improve vith practice-" Schmidt cut himself off as he noticed the direction of Erik's gaze. A poster of a smiling man giving a salute. The man was clad in red, white, and blue, with a star upon his chest and a similarly-decorated triangular shield on his left arm.
"Ah, you finally noticed some of my... Choices of decoration."
"Vhy him?" Was all Erik could ask, softly.
Schmidt scoffed, and rose from his chair to stride around his desk. "'Vhy him?' the boy asks!" He declared to his guards. "You cannot even fathom it!" Schmidt laughed as he stopped to meet Erik's gaze. "You vish to know vhy I, a German, vould haff a picture of mine greatest enemy?" His face spread into another terrible grin. "Because I vant people like you to know that, despite his reputation, Captain America vill never help you." He whispered. "He is preoccupied vith other things than helping little Jew. It's who cannot even save their mothers. You are so small to people like him, to even people less than him, that you will never be of concern."
Schmidt rose, and slammed a button on his desk, retracting the blinds on what Erik could now see was a reinforced glass wall. Beyond it was his father, restrained in an electric chair. Schmidt made an angry signal to the technicians beyond the glass, and they flipped a breaker. Erik's father convulsed in the chair.
"Papa!" Erik shouted as he sprang to his feet and ran into the glass. He tried to flip the metal switch beyond the wall, to fling wife the restraints with his powers. The metal objects merely twitched, and remained where they were.
The soldiers leveled their weapons at Erik, but Schmidt waved them off.
Erik pulled the coin off the desk, the filing cabinets from where they stood on the floor, he pulled every large metal object in the room toward him and drove them into the glass. One by one, they hit the transparent material. Slowly, the glass cracked. Slower than the chair drained his father's life. By the time the glass had broken enough to allow Erik entry to the room beyond it, the technicians had cut the power to the chair, and his father lay dead in its' embrace.
A train whistle sounded in the distance, barely audible over Erik's sobs.
Schmidt pushed his way into the room, and grabbed Erik by the collar.
"Get up! Come!" He commanded the now limp teenager. Erik almost refused to comply, but Schmidt pulled him to his feet and drug him from the building, to the train station as a line of cars pulled in with a screeching of their brakes. Behind the demonic looking engine were many ragged cars. Erik knew what, or who, were inside those cars. Prisoners. People Hitler declared his enemies.
"Every day, this train arrives laden vith prisoners. People like you. Maybe even some like me." Schmidt whispered into his ear. "Thousands upon thousands come. Hundreds are slaughtered before they even enter the camp. If you can tap into that power you possess, you can stop this." Schmidt said as the vultures clad in the uniform of the Schutstaffel divided the prisoners, shot some where they stood, sent others against a wall riddled with bullets, and escorted the unlucky into the hellish depths of the camp. The soldiers aimed their guns at the ones upon the wall, and fired, cutting down everyone in the path of the deadly projectiles.
"You see how they pull the triggers? How little bits of metal fly, und embed themselves in those I'm sure you'd consider 'innocent?'" Schmidt asked. "Maybe someday, you could even stop every bullet in its tracks vith but a thought. For now, try und stop even vone."