Chapter 1: An Order From Above
The map spread across the briefing table is a labyrinth of red lines and faded ink, a grim patchwork of shifting frontlines and the wreckage of hard-fought battles. The scent of damp wool and burning oil lamps fills the air, mingling with a faint trace of gunpowder from the recent skirmishes that have stained the day. Steve Rogers leans over the table, his gloved fingers pressing against the rough parchment, eyes scanning the contours of the map as if searching for answers in the lines that weave through the valley.
Beside him, Bucky Barnes stands with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable but sharp, every muscle tense with the quiet readiness that only a soldier understands. His jaw is clenched, eyes flickering over the map but rarely focusing on any one thing for too long. The room feels heavy with anticipation, a sense of unease hanging in the stale air.
At the head of the table stands Colonel Phillips, his jaw tight, his features hard with unspoken tension. He exhales through his nose, locking eyes with every officer in the room, the weight of his words pressing down on them all. "We've got a problem," he says, his voice gruff.
The other officers exchange glances, their expressions hardening. They've all seen problems before—Nazis, Hydra, the unrelenting horrors of war. These are the nightmares that linger even after the battle is over, the kind that don't fade when they shut their eyes. But what Phillips is about to say? This is different.
Steve's fingers tighten around the edges of the map, sensing the shift in the room. Phillips doesn't hesitate when there's real danger, and Steve knows that hesitation now means something more. A danger unlike any they've faced before.
"Rogers, you ever heard of the Schwabenwald Valley?" Phillips asks, his voice carrying an unfamiliar edge.
Steve shakes his head. Bucky does too.
"Well, neither had I, until three days ago," the Colonel continues. "It's about twenty miles east of here, deep in occupied territory. Small place. A handful of villages, a couple of abandoned outposts. A perfect location for Hydra to do... whatever it is Hydra does best."
Steve's expression darkens at the mention of Hydra. His mind races, flicking through the countless encounters they've had with the Nazi faction and its twisted experiments, but this one feels different, darker. Beside him, Bucky's jaw tightens. He doesn't speak, but his body language says it all—this isn't just another mission. This is something they've never faced before.
Phillips gestures to the map, his finger tapping a circled point. "Two weeks ago, we sent a forward reconnaissance unit into that valley. There's a tiny town at the bottom, an old hub for the region—called 'Sleepy Hollow,' if you can believe it. We sent an entire company. Good men. About a hundred and fifty soldiers." His finger traces a line to Krausburg Station. "They were supposed to hold this outpost here. Radio check-ins every six hours. A simple assignment."
Steve notices the shift in Phillips' tone. It's almost... reluctant. "What happened?" he asks carefully.
Phillips sighs heavily. The air feels thicker, colder now, as if something unseen has already entered the room. "They went dark."
The silence is immediate, suffocating. The only sound is the faint crackle of the oil lamp on the table, the heat from its flame casting long shadows on the walls.
"Every single man in that company disappeared," Phillips says, his voice low. "No bodies. No distress calls. No gunfire reported. They were just... gone."
Steve feels a cold weight settle in his stomach, a heaviness that doesn't belong on a battlefield. He's seen his share of death—men cut down in the worst ways imaginable—but an entire unit vanishing without a trace? That's not war. That's something else entirely.
Bucky breaks the silence. "You're sure they didn't just get captured? Like the 107th? We disappeared without a trace at Azzano."
Phillips shakes his head grimly. "We sent scouts. They found the outpost—abandoned. Equipment still there, guns still loaded. Even food left on the mess hall tables, half-eaten. Like one moment they were there, and the next... poof."
Steve's brow furrows, the chill creeping deeper into his bones. That doesn't make sense. Soldiers don't just vanish like that. There had to be a reason, a cause, but whatever it was, it wasn't something they could easily explain.
"There's more," Phillips continues, a bitter edge to his voice. "We sent another team. A smaller one. They made it back."
Steve looks up sharply, eyes narrowing. "What did they see?"
Phillips' gaze flickers to the far corner of the room, where Howard Stark has been uncharacteristically quiet. Howard shifts uneasily, looking like he's just been pulled out of some dark reverie. Steve hadn't noticed him there before, but now, he can see the tension in Stark's features. The man's always been the picture of confidence, but tonight? Tonight, his calm is on the verge of cracking.
Howard exhales, running a hand through his dark hair. "They saw... something."
"What kind of something?" Bucky asks, a flicker of concern in his voice.
Phillips presses his lips together, then finally speaks. "They found bodies."
That cold weight in Steve's stomach deepens. "But you said there weren't any bodies," Steve points out, his voice low.
Phillips nods. "Not our men."
Bucky's brow furrows, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Then whose?"
Phillips meets his gaze. "Germans."
A heavy silence falls over the room. Steve feels the weight of those words settle into the space, like the air has thickened further, something malignant hanging in the balance.
"That doesn't make sense," Bucky mutters. "We're in Germany."
"No, it doesn't," Phillips agrees, his voice rough with frustration. "But here's where things really start to go to hell. The Germans we found?" He glances at Howard again, the unspoken question hanging between them.
Howard inhales sharply, his face paling. "Every single one of them—beheaded."
The room goes still. One of the younger officers curses under his breath, another shifts uneasily, eyes darting toward the door, as if he wants to flee the moment the words leave Stark's mouth.
Steve doesn't react immediately. He just stares at Howard, trying to process the enormity of it. "Beheaded?" he repeats, his voice faint.
Howard nods grimly. "No gunshot wounds. No signs of a struggle. Just—heads gone."
Steve turns slowly to Phillips. "Nazis have been doing a lot of twisted things lately. You think this is one of theirs?"
Phillips' expression hardens. "I don't know. But here's the kicker. Before we pulled our men out of the valley, one of them swore he saw... something riding through the fog. A figure on horseback."
Bucky scoffs, the edge of disbelief clear in his tone. "What is this, a ghost story? We're a little old for campfire tales, Phillips."
"I don't tell ghost stories, Sergeant," Phillips' voice is flat, but the underlying tension is clear. "But my men were scared. And if hardened soldiers come running back, babbling about some kind of phantom cutting off heads in the night... I pay attention."
Steve exhales, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Let me guess," he says, looking directly at Phillips. "You want us to go in."
Phillips nods once, the decision made. "You and Barnes. Take the Commandos. Find out what happened. Bring back any survivors—if there are any."
Bucky shoots Steve a look, silent but full of unspoken questions. Neither of them believe in ghosts. But this? This is something else. Bucky raises an eyebrow, as if daring Steve to move forward with this mission, to trust the unsettling reports. His hand shakes slightly, a familiar sign of tension—something from Azzano still lingers, haunting him.
Steve picks up his helmet, tucking it under his arm. The weight of the mission is clear, but he won't show it. He can't. Not now.
"Alright," he says, his voice steady. "We move out at dawn."
Howard shifts uncomfortably, his face grim. "Whatever's out there," he warns, "it's not just bullets and bayonets. Be careful."
With a final glance at the map, Steve turns away, the heavy weight of the unknown looming before them. Something dark awaits in Schwabenwald Valley, and it's not just war they're walking into.
It's something far worse.