In 1942, it was the era when the Great War was in full swing, and the United States, like European countries, was also on the cusp, in order to save energy, the construction of skyscrapers was suspended, those landscape lights, neon lights were restricted, half-light control became a norm, and frequent power outages also made the city often shrouded in darkness and silence.

Looking down from the sky over New York, the city of 7.5 million people is in a thin haze, although it is spring, but the light rain and cold air force people to add a few more clothes than usual, unlike the same city decades later, when people's aesthetic habits are still conservative, women are wrapped in scarves and wide hats, the delicate wrists and necks are tightly wrapped, men's clothes look even more monotonous, a coat, a round hat seems to constitute an enduring shape.

As a port city that transported millions of soldiers during the Great War, hordes of soldiers would stay in New York for days before setting sail for Europe, attracting many girls eager to embrace men in military uniforms, and they came and went in pairs between bars and hotels, which became a unique sight in this era.

As the perspective grows higher and smaller, finally blending into the background of the ground, only carapace-sized cars moving down the road are moving, and before they can be seen a few old burgundy steamboats cutting through the deep blue water, with their high chimneys coming and going from the nearby river, but soon these steel creations also disappear into the towering concrete jungle.

Now there are only patches of greenery except for the gray buildings below, and the budding trees are trying to show their vibrant and tender side, they use their bodies to separate the blocks and roads, and then the patches of green space wrap the river in the middle, and gradually the city becomes like an island, only an invisible existence above is quietly staring.

The gaze slowly closed, and countless images of light rolled back like a tide, and then in an old house in Brooklyn. Eric woke up from a dream in which he had mastered a qiē.

It was just six o'clock in the morning, and Steve was still sleeping soundly on the sand next to him, and Eric was quietly looking at the ceiling, carefully feeling the strength in his body.

Since coming to this era, he has never been able to overlook his territory as he did in the past, the effect that Doctor Strange's magical power cannot achieve, the self-formed rejection of this world has done, he has not only been thrown out of the original era by the space-time channel, but the mutant power given by the bloodline ball is also separated by an impenetrable veil.

It wasn't until today that he finally made some progress.

Lie comfortably in bed. Eric raised his right hand, and a few dirty coins flew into the air on a worn-out table on the side of the exterior wall six feet away, covered in dust, but soon the black-gray oil stain in the groove was driven out of its place, and the coins dissolved into a mass of molten metal, which then fused unhindered.

It's still a mutant's magnetic talent, but now it's no longer a reward from the Lord God, but a real source of power for Eric.

Perhaps this experience was a purge, after leaving the realm of the Lord God. The former reincarnation will eventually merge into the new world.

The liquid metal mass floated above Eric's head, slowly turning into a smooth, bright mirror, and in the clear mirror reflection, a familiar face appeared before his eyes.

"Hello. Eric. Eric greeted him, and the face across from him generously returned the favor with a genuine smile.

He was in a good mood on the day.

There is no need to hide the good mood, it will naturally be perceived by the people around you, not only Steve. Bucky, who had just received a call-up order and was assigned to the 1O7 Infantry Division, where his father had served during his lifetime, also appeared.

He wasted no time in making an invitation.

"I said, how about we go out and have some fun? Tomorrow I'm setting sail for England, and we should have a good time today. Bucky said. Deliberately poked Steve in the chest. "Especially you, Steve, I'm going to wash you clean on my last night - don't turn me down."

Steve shook his head habitually, but after thinking about it, he promised that his friend was going to battle, and he couldn't let him down.

"Where are we going?" The inexperienced rookie asked.

"Future." Sergeant Barnes was concise and to the point.

An hour later, they arrived in front of the pavilion at the New York World's Fair.

On the eve of the Great War, the last exposition was also held in New York, the 2o World's Fair of Mankind, which was on a larger scale and covered an area of 484 hectares. The theme is passionate: "The World and Construction of Tomorrow". Sixty-four countries exhibited and showcased new products such as nylon, tape recorders, plastics, tapes, televisions, etc., but at the time, few people foresaw that "tomorrow" would be a nightmare, and that the wars that originated in Europe had shattered centuries of dreams about humanity to the ground: science that changed the world and the way of life became a nightmare; Nationalism that unites the nation and gains dignity has become a nightmare. Even if the war ends in the end and the losing side is punished, the nightmare does not end, it is only the beginning.

But people don't care where this dream will take them tomorrow, and at the suggestion of Stark Industries, the originally suspended fair will be held again four years later, again in New York, this time with the theme of "Future".

Like the theme of the exhibition, the girls of Pakiyo are also "future", but being late is the prerogative of women, and the men have no reason to complain, only Steve is a little cramped.

"Why is this expression, you will become the last man of marriage age in New York, even Eric wants to get a permanent residence permit and serve the military for a few years, what are you not satisfied with?" Bucky said with exaggerated spread of his hands. "You know, there are 350,000 women in this city, and now they're all yours alone."

This statement was so terrifying that Steve immediately shook his head.

"One of my is enough." As he said this, Bucky immediately grimaced at Eric.

It was still early in the morning, and they were a little bored in the square, so they went to the neighborhood and bought a newspaper, and as they sat down, they called for a few shoe boys to shine their shoes.

Serving Bucky and Steve, two young children, sat side by side on another bench, and Eric chose to sit near the flower bed.

A young black man with his eyebrows pressed against the brim of his hat crouched down in front of him, opened the toolbox and took out a piece of cotton cloth to wipe off the little dust on it. Then skillfully smeared shoe polish and wiped it carefully with his feet.

"I really wish I had brought a camera with me when I came, so that I could take a picture of Mr. Director's attentive service." Eric casually took the newspaper and whispered.

kneeling in front of him,.

"Who the hell are you, and why do you know me?" Fury was working and constantly observing his surroundings, but he had not yet turned into a one-eyed dragon, and his falcon-like eyes shone sharply.

"It's a long story, are you sure you want to listen to me here?" Eric flicked the newspaper in his hand and asked rhetorically.

Fury looked up. The owner of the shoe can also feel his gaze through a newspaper shoe.

"You have a dagger in your right boot, and if I say I'm a foreign agent, are you going to jump up and give me a knife?" Eric asked, and Fury's body tensed.

"I don't know if you are, but I'm thinking about it." Despite being hunted, young people are still reluctant to betray their homeland.

Fortunately, he didn't need to worry about it.

"Don't worry, I'm not here for you." Eric casually comforted, flipping through a page of the newspaper. "My presence here was just an accident."

Fury was silent for a moment. As if weighing something, the horsehair brush in his hand moved rapidly, and after brushing one another, he replaced it with another.

"How many people are there like you?" He asked in a muffled voice.

"What do you think?" Eric didn't answer.

"I've only met you alone who can beat me." Fury replied honestly. Then finally decided to tell the story. "My father was a pilot, and he had three sons, and I was his eldest son, when the war broke out. My brothers joined the army early and were all killed in battle, and my superiors thought I could spare my life and transferred me back to China. ”

"Isn't that great?" Eric's evaluation.

"But then I met a Canadian. We went into a house and got some things, and then we were arrested and sent to Phillips as real products, and the next thing was different. Fury said hatefully.

"Higher, faster, stronger?" Eric asked.

"That's pretty much it, it would have been a good thing if it hadn't been for the pain in front and the flight in the back." After applying the polish evenly, he began to polish the upper with a fine flannel cloth, during which Fury raised his head slightly, and Eric knew what he wanted to ask.

"I can sue you, you're not alone." Uncovering a newspaper, Eric points out Fury's primary concern.

"In 49o B.C., the Greek Pheidippides ran back from the front to report the victory in Athens, he ran 26 miles and then collapsed and died of organ failure, and since the Olympic Games in 1896, athletes still have to run such long distances, but it is rare to hear of people dying because of this, not because the Greeks are weak, but because mankind has left its ancestors far behind in evolution, and this is only the beginning. Today's humans are no longer barefoot, they wear special shoes, which further enhance their athletic ability, and your real yàn is just adding an invisible pair of shoes to yourself, you are like being plugged into wings, and you don't need to be afraid at all. ”

"Why help me?" Fury asked sullenly.

"Capable people should learn to accept each other." Eric replied.

Then the big shoe-shine boy didn't say anything more, and when Eric finished reading the newspaper, the man in front of him had disappeared into the middle of nowhere.

S.H.I.E.L.D., three-curved wing building.

"The Council is not satisfied with the idea of the Avengers, they want to have a power that can be controlled, and it can be copied in large quantities like industrial production." Hill had just returned from a meeting and followed the Director into his office.

"It's understandable, but that's a clumsy idea." The One-Eyed Director replied casually. "In the past, someone told me that my time is progressing, and there will be more and more capable people. I think he's right. Seventy years ago I was the only soldier, but soon Rogers became Captain America, and then vampires, magicians, mutants, and class heroes kept jumping to the forefront, and the world was moving towards a trend that was unimaginable before, and some people still wanted to use their outdated old tricks, thinking that they could tame a real strong man like a bad horse - I want to say that the danger is never ability, the danger is to see new forms, and the people above still want to use their old thinking, Sooner or later, one day they will set themselves on fire. ”

"So what do we do?" Commander Hill asked.

"It's necessary to be on guard, with a genuine smile on your face, but you might as well have a loaded pistol in your pocket, but until then—" Director Fury turned, one eye flashing.

"But until then, try to accept each other." (To be continued!)

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