Around the battlefield, her friends were slowly picking themselves up, blinking away the afterimages of divine light that had seared itself into their retinas.
"Diana!" Amaya rushed to her side, catching her before she could fall. "Are you all right?"
"I think so," Diana managed, though her legs felt like water and every muscle in her body ached as if she'd fought for hours. "The others?"
Jay was already back on his feet, though he moved more carefully than usual. "Present and accounted for. Though I think I'm going to be feeling that heat wave for a week."
Jim's synthetic skin was already beginning to repair itself, though he looked like he'd been through a furnace. "Systems are coming back online. That was unpleasant."
Alan stood up slowly, his ring still flickering weakly. "Well, that's definitely the most powerful thing I've ever faced. And hopefully the last time I face anything like it."
But their relief was short-lived. Throughout the facility, explosions were beginning to cascade as Schmidt's self-destruct sequence activated. The Red Skull had triggered his failsafe, turning the entire compound into a ticking bomb.
"We need to get out of here," Diana said, forcing herself to stand despite her exhaustion. "This whole place is going to blow."
They rushed to where Robert Frank and Adam Brasher lay unconscious, checking for signs of life. Both men were breathing, though something seemed different about them. The energy had definitely affected them, but in what way, they couldn't tell.
"Can we move them?" Jay asked.
"We have to," Diana replied. "Jay, can you get them to safety?"
"I can try," Jay said, though his usual confidence was shaken. He gently lifted Robert while Jim took Adam, and they began moving toward the facility's exit.
As they reached the main entrance, Diana looked back at the compound where Steve and Azzuri had gone to rescue the prisoners. Smoke was rising from that section of the facility, and the explosions were getting closer.
"Please," she whispered, her exhaustion making her voice barely audible. "Please let them have made it out."
The first building collapsed behind them in a cascade of concrete and twisted metal. Then another. Schmidt's destruction was accelerating.
"Diana," Amaya said gently, "we have to keep moving."
Diana nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on the facility. Somewhere in that maze of concrete and steel, Steve Rogers was fighting his own battle. She could only pray that his courage would be enough to see him through.
Another explosion, larger than the rest, lit up the night sky. The facility was definitely beyond saving now.
"Come on, Steve," Diana said quietly. "Come home."
The factory shook around them as the first explosion went off somewhere below. Steve helped Bucky stay steady as they moved through the smoke-filled corridors, Peter covering their rear with Kane's pistol.
"This way," Steve said, spotting a massive map on the wall covered in HYDRA symbols spreading across Europe like a disease. "Jesus, look at this. They're everywhere."
Another explosion rocked the building, closer this time. Chunks of concrete rained down as they made their way toward the stairwell.
"Steve, we need to move," Peter said, checking his watch. "Whatever Schmidt triggered, it's accelerating."
They reached the stairs and started down, but a massive explosion below sent a wall of flame rushing up toward them. Steve threw his arm in front of Bucky and Peter as the heat hit them like a physical blow.
"Back up! Back up!" Steve shouted over the roar of flames.
They climbed back up, Steve supporting Bucky's weight as his friend struggled with whatever HYDRA had done to him. At the top, they found a catwalk stretching across the factory floor.
"There," Steve pointed toward the catwalk stretching across the factory floor. "We can get across and find another way down."
They reached the starting point of the metal walkway when a voice cut through the chaos.
"Captain America! How exciting!"
Steve spun around to see two figures at the opposite end of their catwalk. The shorter one was clearly Dr. Zola, clutching a briefcase and what looked like a titanium case. But it was the other figure that made Steve pause.
The man stepped forward, and Steve got his first clear look at Johann Schmidt. He was tall and imposing in his black SS uniform, his pale face sharp and aristocratic. There was something unsettling about his features, something that seemed almost too perfect, like a mask carved from marble.
"I am a great fan of your films," Schmidt said, walking slowly toward them. "I have to admit, I enjoyed watching Baron Zemo's unfortunate encounter with his own adhesive. The security cameras captured every delicious moment."
Schmidt handed the titanium case to Zola, then stepped right up to Steve, close enough that Steve could smell the smoke and chemicals on his uniform.
"So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all," Schmidt said, studying Steve's face with cold curiosity. "Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive."
The mention of Erskine's name hit Steve like a punch to the gut. The old scientist who had believed in him, who had died because of this monster's orders.
"You bastard," Steve snarled, and his fist shot out before he could think.
The punch connected with Schmidt's jaw with a satisfying crack that sent the HYDRA leader staggering backward several steps.
"You've got no idea," Steve said, his voice shaking with rage.
Schmidt straightened up slowly, and to Steve's surprise, he was smiling. But something was wrong with his face. Around his right eye, where Steve's punch had landed, the skin looked torn. Underneath, Steve caught a glimpse of something red and raw, like exposed muscle.
"Haven't I?" Schmidt said, seemingly unbothered by whatever damage had been done.
Schmidt's counterattack came fast. His fist slammed into Steve's shield with enough force to dent the painted steel.
Peter's hand immediately went to Kane's pistol, pulling it up and aiming at Schmidt before realizing with horror that the chamber was empty. "Shit," he muttered, frantically checking his remaining magazines. Nothing.
Steve stared at the damage to his shield in shock. The prop that had carried him through dozens of fights was crumpling like tin foil.
Schmidt's next punch caught Steve in the ribs, lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing to the catwalk floor. Steve gasped, tasting blood as he looked up at his opponent.
"Erskine said your experiment was a failure," Steve managed, kicking up at Schmidt's jaw.
Schmidt tumbled backward, but he was already getting to his feet as Zola frantically worked the catwalk controls. The walkway began retracting, creating a widening gap between Schmidt and Steve.
Schmidt shot a withering look at Zola, and Steve saw the doctor pale. But when Schmidt turned back to face him, something was wrong with his face. The skin was torn, and red flesh was bulging through the gaps.
"A failure?" Schmidt said, his voice carrying across the widening gap. "Oh, no, Captain. I was his greatest success."
Schmidt reached up to grab his face, and Steve watched in horror as he began to pull. What Steve had thought was skin peeled away like rubber, revealing the nightmare underneath. A red skull grinned at him across the gap, hideous and completely inhuman.
The discarded mask fluttered down into the flames below like a piece of burning paper. Steve stared in disbelief as the thing that had once been Johann Schmidt smiled at him with teeth like broken glass.
Behind Steve, Bucky's voice was tight with horror. "You don't have one of those, do you?"
The Red Skull tossed the last pieces of his disguise into the fire. "You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!"
Another explosion shook the factory, sending sparks and debris raining down around them. Steve gripped his dented shield tighter, fury burning in his chest.
"Then how come you're running?"
The temperature in the factory suddenly plummeted, then spiked to furnace levels. The stench of sulfur filled the air as a figure in a perfect black suit materialized from the shadows behind them.
"How delightfully dramatic," Mephisto said, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve. "Though I must say, Schmidt, your exit timing could use some work."
Steve spun around, his shield raised. "Who the hell are you?"
"I am the Devil," Mephisto replied with a cold smile that revealed teeth too sharp to be human. "I am Mephisto, Lord of the Underworld, and I have been watching this little drama unfold with great interest." His gaze swept over the three of them before fixing on Peter. "Particularly you, young Parker."
Peter's blood ran cold as those ancient eyes focused on him. The rational part of his mind said this was impossible, but everything about this being screamed supernatural horror.
"How do you know my name?" Peter managed.
"I know many things about you, Peter Parker," Mephisto said, his voice like silk over steel. "Your noble heart, your unshakeable moral compass, your absolute refusal to compromise your principles no matter the cost." He smiled, showing those inhuman teeth. "Such purity of soul is... valuable. Rare. I will have it eventually."
Peter's hand instinctively went to the small Star of David he wore beneath his uniform, his mother's heritage suddenly feeling like his only protection. "אלוהים ישמור אותי," he whispered in Hebrew. "Elohim yishmor oti." (God protect me)
Mephisto's laugh was like breaking glass. "אלוהים? איפה האל שלך עכשיו, יהודון קטן?" he replied in perfect Hebrew, his accent ancient and mocking. "Elohim? Eifoh ha'el shelkha akhshav, yihudon katan?" (God? Where is your God now, little Jew?) "בזמן שהעם שלך נשרף במחנות? בזמן שהתנורים עובדים יום ולילה? בזמן שילדים בוכים לאמהות שלעולם לא יענו?" "Bizman she'ha'am shelkha nisraf bamakhanot? Bizman she'hatanurim ovdim yom v'laila? Bizman she'yeladim bokhim l'imahot she'l'olam lo ya'anu?" (While your people burn in the camps? While the ovens work day and night? While children cry for mothers who will never answer?) His smile turned cruel. "האל היקר שלך נראה די... נעדר בימים האלה." "Ha'el hayakar shelkha nir'eh dai... ne'edar bayamim ha'eleh." (Your precious God seems rather... absent these days.)
The words hit Peter like physical blows. Everyone knew something terrible was happening to Jewish communities across occupied Europe, but hearing it from this creature's mouth made it feel like a cosmic mockery.
"You son of a bitch," Peter breathed, his hand tightening on his empty pistol.
"Stay away from him," Steve stepped protectively in front of Peter, shield raised. "I don't care what you are."
Mephisto chuckled, his attention shifting to Steve. "Oh, Captain Rogers. So predictable. So incorruptible. You and young Parker both represent something I find particularly... appetizing. Souls that cannot be bought, cannot be broken, cannot be turned." His eyes gleamed with predatory hunger. "The challenge of claiming such prizes makes them infinitely more valuable."
Bucky, still weak from his captivity, managed to speak up. "What the hell do you want with us?"
Mephisto's smile turned cold as his gaze fixed on Bucky. "Ah, James Buchanan Barnes. The loyal friend. The faithful soldier." His voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried perfectly through the chaos. "Tell me, Sergeant, do you dream? Do you see yourself as the man you are now... or the weapon you will become?" His eyes gleamed with dark knowledge. "By the time your mortal coil runs its course, your hands will be stained with the blood of innocents. And when that day comes, you will be mine as well."
Bucky's face went pale, something deep in his soul recognizing the truth in those words.
"We're leaving," Steve said firmly, though his voice shook. "Now."
"Of course you are," Mephisto agreed pleasantly. "Run along, little heroes. But know this - every act of heroism, every life you save, every moment of hope you inspire... it only makes your eventual fall more delicious."
Then he began to laugh.
The sound started as cruel amusement, but as it grew louder, something horrible began to happen. Mephisto's perfect human features started to shift and change. His pale skin darkened to deep red. His hair burst into flames that danced around his head like a crown of fire. His eyes became burning coals, and when he smiled, his teeth were white fangs in a mouth that seemed to lead straight to the pit of Hell itself. Two curved horns erupted from his forehead as his fingernails became razor-sharp claws.
This was the Devil as every nightmare had imagined him.
"I swear by the fires of Hell itself," he said, his voice now echoing with infernal power as his burning gaze swept across all three of them. His clawed finger pointed first at Bucky, then moved to Peter and Steve with deliberate menace. "All your souls will be mine eventually." His grin widened, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth that gleamed like ivory daggers in the firelight. "But you two," he said, his finger lingering on Steve and Peter, "you two are the prizes I truly covet. Your incorruptible souls will be the jewels in my collection. I will claim them, no matter how long it takes, no matter what it costs. This I vow."
The demonic laughter that followed echoed through the burning factory like the screams of the damned.
He vanished as suddenly as he'd appeared, leaving only the smell of brimstone and the echo of that terrible sound.
The Red Skull, who had watched this exchange with obvious displeasure at being upstaged, just smiled as Zola handed him back the titanium case. They stepped into an elevator that Steve hadn't even noticed, the doors closing with mechanical precision.
"Come on," Steve said, his voice hoarse as he pulled Bucky away from the edge. More explosions rocked the catwalk around them. "Let's go. Up."
Peter was still shaking, the Hebrew words echoing in his mind. "Steve... that thing, it knew..." His hands trembled as he checked his empty pistol again, a nervous habit.
Bucky stared at the spot where Mephisto had vanished, his face pale. "The weapon you will become," he repeated quietly, the words haunting him. "What did it mean?"
"I know," Steve said grimly, though his own voice carried a tremor he couldn't quite hide. The image of those burning eyes and needle teeth was seared into his memory. "We'll figure it out later. Right now we need to get out of here alive."
The three of them exchanged glances - each shaken by their encounter with something that shouldn't exist, each carrying the weight of Mephisto's prophecies. But the factory was collapsing around them, and survival had to take priority over cosmic horror.
"Whatever that was," Peter said, forcing himself to focus on the immediate danger, "we can't let it get to us. Not now."
"He's right," Bucky agreed, though his voice was strained. "Let's just get the hell out of here."
They climbed toward a gantry system above them, the metal groaning under their weight as the facility continued to tear itself apart around them. Each step took them further from the spot where they'd met the Devil himself, but none of them would ever forget what they'd seen.
On the roof, Zola stared at the Red Skull's exposed head, his face green with nausea. He kept glancing away, but his eyes were drawn back to the horror walking beside him.
"Sir?" Zola's voice cracked. "Are we going to the roof?"
The elevator doors opened to reveal a catwalk leading to some kind of aircraft unlike anything Zola had ever seen. It looked like a rocket with wings, built for speed and built for one person.
"What about me?" Zola asked, staring at the single-seat cockpit. "Where will I sit?"
The Red Skull handed him a set of car keys. "Not a scratch, Doctor. Not a scratch."
As Schmidt walked toward his escape vehicle, Zola stared at the keys in his trembling hands. The elevator doors closed, leaving him alone with his terror.
Back in the factory, Steve, Bucky, and Peter reached the top gantry. The metal walkway stretched across the burning chaos below, their only path to safety.
"Let's go," Steve said, testing the gantry's stability. "One at a time."
Peter went first, moving quickly but carefully across the groaning metal. His photographer's instincts had him documenting everything even now, his camera capturing the destruction around them. The walkway held, rivets popping loose but the structure intact.
"Made it!" Peter called from the other side, immediately turning to help guide the others.
Bucky went next, his movements more cautious due to whatever HYDRA had done to him. The metal creaked and groaned under his weight, more rivets falling into the inferno below. He was halfway across when another explosion tore through the factory floor, sending a shockwave through the entire structure.
"Come on, Buck!" Steve shouted. "You got it!"
Bucky pushed through the last few steps and made it to safety just as the gantry gave a sickening lurch.
Steve stepped onto the walkway and immediately felt it giving way. The metal twisted and buckled, then collapsed entirely, plunging into the flames below. He threw himself backward just in time, landing hard on the crumbling platform.
The gap between him and his friends was easily twenty feet, maybe more. And it was growing as his section of the building continued to collapse.
"Gotta be a rope or something!" Bucky called out, looking around frantically.
"Just go! Get out of here!" Steve shouted back as the explosions came faster now. The roof was starting to collapse around him, chunks of concrete and twisted metal raining down.
"No! Not without you!" Bucky's voice was desperate.
Steve looked at the impossible gap, then at his friends on the other side. The distance was even worse than he'd thought - forty feet, maybe more. And growing as his section of the building continued to collapse.
The platform shuddered beneath his feet. More of the floor gave way. This was it - now or never.
"Aw, hell," Steve muttered, backing up as far as the collapsing platform would allow.
A twisted piece of railing blocked part of his runway. Steve grabbed it with both hands and bent the metal aside like it was made of clay, clearing his path. The ease with which the steel gave way reminded him just how much the serum had changed him.
He stared at the gap, his enhanced vision calculating the distance, the trajectory, the thousand things that could go wrong. Forty feet through smoke and flame, with a burning factory floor waiting to catch him if he came up short.
Steve closed his eyes for a moment. Dr. Erskine's face flashed in his mind - the old scientist's faith in a ninety-pound kid from Brooklyn who just wanted to serve his country. Bucky's loyalty, standing by him through every fight he'd lost before the serum. Diana and the others, fighting their own battle to save hundreds of prisoners. Howard and Peggy, risking everything to get them this far.
And Peggy. Christ, he might never see her again. She was probably still hurt from seeing Jessica's drawing in his sketchbook. Couldn't blame her for that. She'd believed in him when nobody else did, pushed him to be more than just a guy in a costume selling war bonds. Even if she was with Howard now, even if they were doing whatever "fonduing" meant, Steve knew he'd still try to get her back if he made it out of this. She might never know he'd fallen for her.
He opened his eyes and took a breath. The heat from the fires below hit his face hard.
"You can do this," he said to himself. "You have to do this."
This wasn't just about jumping a gap. This was about proving Erskine hadn't been wrong about him. About being the man everyone thought he could be.
Steve ran for the edge, his legs driving him forward with everything he had. At the last second, he jumped with every bit of strength the serum had given him.
For a few seconds, he was flying through smoke and flame, the burning factory forty feet below. The heat burned his lungs, smoke stung his eyes, and the gap looked endless. For one bad moment, when he started coming down, he thought he wasn't going to make it.
The platform came up fast. He hit hard, his body taking an impact that would have killed anyone else. He rolled with it, concrete scraping his uniform as the biggest explosion yet went off behind him.
The blast knocked all three of them down, but they were alive.
"Holy shit, Steve," Peter said, helping him up. "That was impossible."
"No," Steve said, looking back at the inferno consuming Schmidt's factory. "That was necessary."
They could hear voices above them, coming from what sounded like the roof. Steve recognized some of them immediately.
"THOSE NAZI BASTARDS PICKED THE WRONG FIGHT!" G.I. Robot's mechanical voice boomed through the chaos. "I'M GONNA BURN THIS WHOLE PLACE DOWN!"
"You already did that, tin man," came Logan's gruff voice. "Half the mountain's on fire."
"GOOD! LET IT BURN!"
Steve felt relief wash over him. "That's them. That's our guys.