Prologue

2024, East London

Bucky stood over him, his gaze cold and unforgiving, the shadows cast by the strobe lights dancing across his face. His jaw twitched, his body trembling with barely contained wrath.

Alistair smirked, his eyes darting in fear yet still trying to maintain a semblance of control. "You'll never get anything out of me, Winter Soldier," he sneered.

Bucky's vibranium arm connected with the man's skull, sending him crashing against the wall. He towered over the crouched man. "She is all I have left. You think I won't rip the truth out of you? Where is she?" Bucky demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Alistair let out a choked sob, his words muffled by the pain. "I... I don't know... She escaped from the island years ago right after the Blip-" His voice trailed off.

Without warning, Bucky slammed his fist into Alistair's face, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone beneath his knuckles. Blood sprayed across the room, a macabre painting of his rage. Alistair howled in pain.

"You hurt her," Bucky growled between clenched teeth. The pain and torment she endured at the hands of Alistair and his cult are etched into Bucky's memory, every detail seared into his mind. Every agonizing moment, every brutal act of cruelty fueled his rage and drove him further into the abyss of vengeance.

"I'm sorry!" Alistair choked out, his voice trembling. "I was wrong to do what I did. I know I can never make it right, but I'm sorry."

Tears streamed down Bucky's face, mingling with the sweat and blood that coat his skin. His fists, once trained to kill with precision, now pounded Alistair's once handsome and youthful face with reckless abandon. Alistair's nose shattered, blood gushing forth like a crimson waterfall. His eyes rolled back in his head, lips swollen and bruised beyond recognition.

Alistair's laughter unexpectedly rang out, a hollow mockery that only served to fuel Bucky's fury further. "You'll never find her…" He sputtered, coughing up blood and spit, his broken teeth falling away like a grotesque rain of decay.

Bucky reached for his Glock, its cold steel gleaming ominously in the flickering lights. With a steady hand, he aimed the weapon at Alistair's ruined face.

"You don't deserve to live," Bucky hissed, his voice raw with emotion. The music pounded in time with his racing heart as he raised the weapon to Alistair's forehead.

"No, please, no, you don't want to do that," He begged, clutching his shattered rib cage.

Bucky's finger hovered over the trigger, the weight of his past and present bearing down on him like a heavy burden. He was no longer the unfeeling machine he once was, the Winter Soldier who had been programmed to kill without question or hesitation. But the memory of her suffering, the years of pain and loss that haunted them both, threatened to unleash the beast within.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," Alistair whimpered, his voice laced with desperation. "I was caught up in the cult's ideology, I didn't realize what I was doing until it was too late. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Again, Bucky didn't respond, his gaze fixed on Alistair with a cold, unforgiving intensity.

Desperate, Alistair fumbled with the necklace around his neck, producing a small flash drive. "This has everything I know about her. Her locations, her movements—it's all there." Alistair's voice trailed off, his chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation of Bucky's reaction.

Bucky's finger slowly lowered from the trigger. The weight of his actions hit him as the gun's allure faded. He needed the information, but he also knew he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger, not today. With a swift movement, he tore the pendant from Alistair's neck, ripping the chain from the man's skin. He inspected the device briefly before tucking it safely into his pocket. Bucky might not have believed him under different circumstances, but right now, he needed any lead he could get.

Bucky's eyes never left his captive. "If I ever find out you've lied to me..." Bucky left the threat unfinished, letting it hang between them like a dark cloud.

"I'm telling the truth. But… you need to know…" Alistair stammered, desperation lacing his words, "you're chasing after the wind."

Bucky's jaw tightened, the muscles in his neck flexing with the effort of control. His gaze flicked to the bloody wreckage of Alistair's face, then back to his eyes. "And why's that?"

"You can't find someone who doesn't want to be found," he choked out, his eyes wide with fear.

"You stay the hell away from her, Alistair," Bucky looked down at the wreckage that was once a man's face. "If I ever find out you've gone near her again, I'll tear you apart limb from limb. I don't care how powerful you are, how much money you have, or how many resources you can marshal. I'll come back and finish what I started."

Alistair swallowed hard, nodding quickly in agreement, his remaining eye darting nervously.

"You have my word," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the thumping beats of the rave music. "Just let me live, and you'll never see me again." His breath catches in a sob as he sees his shattered face on the mirror across the room. His good eye widens, reflecting the horror of the mangled flesh, the crimson stains, the shattered remnants of what was once considered a handsome face.

With a final, contemptuous look at Alistair, Bucky turned away, leaving him beaten and broken. As he stepped out into the pulsating rave, the music seemed to mock his turmoil. Bucky's eyes darted around the crowd, thinking. How could he possibly find one person among millions?

Wherever she was hiding, whatever her reasons, I will find her. And I will make her understand that I will fight for her, protect her, no matter the cost.

Then, a wave of realization washed over Bucky. He had broken the very rules that were granted to him as part of his pardon. Truth is, the man he once was - the Winter Soldier - is not entirely gone. The sins of his past still linger, embedded in the fiber of his being.

Bucky knew deep down that his actions were necessary - a means to an end, to protect the woman he loves. Her safety is all that matters. I would do it all again, break every rule, if it means protecting her from the monsters lurking in the shadows.

And those bastards who hurt her, every last one, will pay for their crimes.