Peggy Carter stirred from uneasy sleep, bathed in the dim orange glow of dawn pushing through the narrow slits of her barracks window. The air was cold, but her skin was warm—too warm. She sat up slowly, one hand pressed to her chest. Her heartbeat was steady, but heavy. Slower than normal, and yet deeper. As if her body was adjusting to something it hadn't earned.
There, at the foot of her cot, rested a black case. Seamless. Cold. A note lay folded on top.
We will meet again. But not yet. —K
She didn't remember how it got there. Didn't remember hearing the door. But she knew who had left it.
Knull.
She whispered the name like a secret carved into her soul. Each time she said it—each time it echoed in her mind—she felt less alone.
Inside the case was a single injector, filled with a dark liquid that shimmered like mercury laced with blood. There was no label. No instructions. But she knew, somehow, it was for her.
And she took it.
The change was not instant. No flash, no fire. Only heat. Rolling beneath her skin, coiling through muscle and nerve. Her breath caught, her spine arched, and for one heartbeat, the world went silent.
Then it returned.
Sharper.
Clearer.
Her hands stopped shaking. The old aches from training vanished. Her mind quieted—not dulled, but focused. She stood taller. Straighter. Her skin glowed faintly with something that wasn't light.
She didn't understand what she'd been given. But she understood this:
She was no longer just a woman fighting a war.
She was a weapon.
She dressed slowly, methodically. The voices of the base stirred beneath her window, soldiers barking orders and trucks clattering over uneven stone. But the sounds seemed distant now, like she was listening from the other side of a veil.
And still, in the back of her mind, his name echoed. Knull. Not a man. Not really. Something else. Something ancient and inevitable. She'd only spoken to him a handful of times, but each encounter carved deep. She felt the shape of him in her bones.
She moved through the compound with a quietness she hadn't known she possessed. Eyes lingered longer. Footsteps parted without command. And though she said nothing, something about her told the world she had changed.
[System Notice — Classification Update: Subject (Peggy Carter)] [Old Tier: 2 — Peak Human (High)] [New Tier: 5 — High-Level Enhanced. Subject unaware of upgrade status.]
Knull had watched it all.
From the shadows of a rooftop across the base, he observed in silence. Not interfering. Not speaking. Simply… watching.
She was becoming something more, as he knew she would. But she was not ready to see the full shape of her path. Not yet.
He turned and vanished into the pre-dawn gloom, leaving nothing but a fading ripple of dark mist.
Ophelia's Point of View
Time passed differently inside HYDRA.
It didn't march. It slithered.
Each day bled into the next, a blur of drills, experiments, and silent obedience. But Ophelia was not like the others. Not anymore.
The bond had changed her.
At first, it had only been warmth. A subtle weight in her chest. A comfort in darkness. But now… it was more. Her muscles grew denser. Her reflexes sharper. And her mind—once clouded by fear and fatigue—now cut through information like a knife.
She rose through ranks no one her age should've survived. They started whispering about her.
Project Viper.
She didn't flinch when they injected her. She didn't scream when they broke her down. Because she wasn't alone.
He was with her.
Not physically. Not even in words. But in instinct. In fire. In evolution.
Her handlers noticed. She now outperformed fully grown soldiers. Could disassemble and reassemble any firearm blindfolded. Could lie without blinking, and kill without remorse.
She was now 14.
[System Scan: Bonded Subject — Ophelia Sarkissian] [Previous Tier: 1 — Peak Human (Low)] [Current Tier: 4 — Mid-Level Enhanced] [Expected Growth: Accelerating. Latent Apex Potential Detected.]
From Knull's perspective, the progression was beautiful.
She did not need coddling. She needed fuel. And he had given her just enough to ignite the flame.
He watched from afar, unseen as always. The cameras couldn't see him. The guards couldn't feel him. But Ophelia? She stirred in her sleep sometimes. Whispered his name. Dreamed of him like a ghost woven into her bloodstream.
Soon, she would rise.
Soon, they all would.
But not yet.
Not until the Dominion had its second anchor.
And the world began to fracture beneath their growing weight.
[Void Dominion Progress: Phase I — 41%] [Objective: Establish Three Unique Bonds of Fate] [Bond 1: Ophelia Sarkissian — Stabilizing] [Bond 2: Margaret Carter — Latent, Anchored] [Bond 3: Pending]
Knull's steps carried him beyond the city now, where shadows pooled deeper and threads of possibility flickered like candlelight. The hunger returned. A soft ache behind his ribs.
He smiled.
The next thread waited.