"It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is most adaptable to change."

-Charles Darwin

She entered the HYDRA base under the mountain pass and shook off the built up snow. It was on her shoulders, her boots, stuck in her hair and her eyelashes as it fell from her brown locks when she removed her goggles. It made her look as if she were a snow goddess, but upon a closer look she was still skinny, gaunt, ragged, abused. No one here took any notice of what she looked like and for that she was glad; she had done her job and was going to be given her reward; Rapture. Then, if it was a good day, she wouldn't be locked up until her next mission. Some days she was allowed to roam, but she had a curfew that she had to abide to. An early hour at which she had to be back inside of the wretched cell. She smiled, hoping that she would be granted wandering privileges or even given a new book to read in her small cell.

Such thoughts were proven folly; she had lost herself in a display of dreams. They were shattered with ease when she realized her task was not over. Finding Barnes was her first chore, and it appeared she would not be granted her reward at this time. It had been weeks since she had gotten her last dose of Rapture, and perhaps it was a good thing, but a drug that strong left an empty pit in her gut. Too much would kill her, and yet maybe that was what she really wanted. HYDRA was too smart to let her overdose, starve to death, freeze to death, or go insane. They knew how to keep her just on the cusp of everything, to keep her controlled.

She was kept inside her cell for some time, a few days, maybe more, after finding Barnes. She had yet to be rewarded for her success. She wondered for those never-ending days what was going to happen to him, and the thoughts kept her awake at night.

"You, come with us," an officer spoke sternly as he unlocked her cell door.

"Why?" Her first instinct was terror, but she did not show it on her face. She did not mean to question him, but it slipped.

"You don't get to ask questions." His voice was sharp, demeaning.

"Why?" she growled again; she had the super soldier serum in her, a small amount, but some. A gun shot would kill her if shot in the right spot, but still she raised her voice to the officer. Tired of always being kept in the dark both literally and figuratively, Ophelia didn't know what overcame her and made her speak up to this man. Perhaps it was her interest in knowing what they were going to do to Barnes now that they had him.

So much of her didn't want any harm to come to him. She saw what he had suffered already.

"Look, I don't get to ask questions either," he reminded her sternly; he was one of the nicer guards, many of the others would have mocked her, probably would have used their weapons on her to bring her to submission, and so this was her first and only warning. "Unless you want to be punished, I'd move along."

She knew that he was right, and so she went with him obediently, but resentfully. The lights above her flickered, giving flashes of what was up ahead; she could see Barnes on the stretcher within the medical ward, unmoving. They had a foil blanket over his body; he must have been in shock and his heart rate slowed tremendously because of the blood loss and the bitter cold that followed. It was likely that the snow had kept him alive, slowing down any possible infection from killing him. She didn't know how long he had been out there before she found him, but he had stirred when she had found him in the snow. Though it had been a while since he had been brought in, it appeared that he had not fully woken from his state. He was stronger than he seemed, but she recalled the pain he had been in due to his arm, and shuddered violently. How much more torture was he going to be subject to?

They arrived in the operating room and Ophelia was quite concerned to why she was needed. Was she going to be tortured in front of him to get him to speak? She meant nothing to him, just another HYDRA affiliate; scum to him. Her job had been to find him; her job was completed. Appearing patient and staying silent, she watched as they moved the wounded soldier from the stretcher onto the operating table. She watched as two men in hazmat suits began to work on him. First strapping him down where they could, and then injecting something into his arm; the one that was still attached to his body.

"What do you need me for?" Ophelia asked a different HYDRA officer as he walked by.

"Later, Ophelia." His tone was vile, as if he wanted to strike her for speaking. He crossed the room; he opened a large metal cabinet and pulled out a silver device that resembled a human arm.

The whir of a saw startled Ophelia; they were removing more of his damaged arm to get rid of the dead, frost bitten flesh. The cold snow had preserved his wound better than expected, but they still had to remove the tissue and fractured bone to fix him. More pain had to be given in order to see results; it was no different from their usage of torture. She watched in slight horror and part curiosity as they began to hack away at him. Blood splattered all over the lab coats, the saw itself, the floors, the walls. Ophelia felt some land upon her arm, and she glanced down at the dark red colour, touching it with her finger. It distracted her from the gory scene ahead of her, but only for a few seconds.

The soldier woke.

Screams rippled through the room; Ophelia knew the pain he was going through, somewhat. A sense of panic settled deep in her bones, still wondering what the real reason she was here was. Having been tested on her whole life, injected with foreign substances, she began to wonder if this was the next step in perfection. Many of the things she was subjected to nearly killed her, but many of them made her so much stronger than she ever knew she could be. She knew little of where she came from, only that she was part of HYDRA, and she would only ever be a part of HYDRA. Weaponized and altered to suit their needs, and never hers. But she had very few needs: food, water, and Rapture. The drug owned her, just as HYDRA owned her. She licked her lips, suddenly realizing her craving for the drug.

As she watched Barnes writhing in pain, orderlies holding him down as he fought against the leather restraints. Ophelia knew that he was not trying to escape, at least not yet. Right now he was fighting to survive the excruciating pain that was in his arm, or lack thereof. He was bruised badly from the fall, and he had probably broken a few ribs, but it was his ripped-off arm that was causing the horrific screams coming from his ice cold lips. It was the saw cutting through his bones, veins arteries, and flesh that was killing him. If he survived, he would be the best soldier they would create. Ophelia would be cast aside to make way for the better, stronger soldier.

It took a few hours, but when they had attached the arm, the metal one, the orderlies left. Barnes was out like a light, the pain too much for anyone to withstand. It was the fact he had been a prisoner once before that he was still alive, Ophelia knew. Only one agent remained in the room with an unconscious Barnes, and a terrified Ophelia. Ophelia was pressed against the wall, as if she could become one with it and be forgotten, overlooked. The guard's hand hovered over his gun; there was silence in the room now. Ophelia was still wondering what they wanted her there for; were they trying to scare her? To show her what she might have to suffer if she disobeyed? Metal limbs? Showing her that she was being replaced by this man? She couldn't figure it out, but knew the question would not be answered now.

"He will wake soon, we believe he will trust you more than anyone. Read this file, do not divert from the script." The man told her, this guard was rougher than the last. A grin crossed his lips. "If you fail, I promise you will wish you were dead."

She already did wish she was dead, but nodded obediently.

The guard wrapped his hand around her throat, tightening his grip. She did not move, she did not fight him. This was nothing new to her, many of the guards abused her for the hell of it, to put her in her place on the bottom of the food chain. He brought his lips close to her ear and growled, "Screw this up, and I will put a bullet in your empty skull."

Released from his grip, she gasped for air, a bruise forming upon her throat. He chuckled, shook his head as though she were the lowest of lows, and then Ophelia watched as he locked her in with Barnes. He was still strapped down and still unconscious, but she was completely unsure of why they wanted her to try brainwash him. Perhaps they wanted to see her fail, a reason to kill her. They had tools and drugs to do the brainwashing themselves, she had seen it done before. Perhaps that method didn't work and she was the plan B. After all, she could get inside his head and understand him, make him sympathize with her cause.

She clambered over to a stool, opening the beige file that smelled like a book, something she was given on rare occasions. Flipping through the extensive script that she was to remember and spew back at James Buchanan Barnes, she sighed heavily.

Though the script was an important part of it, she decided that learning who this soldier was might be important if not for brainwashing him, but for her to understand who he was. So she turned her attention from the script to the file on Barnes. He was twenty-six, only four years older than Ophelia herself. Enlisted in the army a few years prior, only to be joined by his friend Steve Rogers. Captain America.

Looking back at the file, she learned that James went by Bucky, a nickname derived from his middle name Buchanan. Ophelia looked up at him, studying his pale, almost sickly face before turning back to the papers. She was to tell him that he had been rescued by HYDRA, an organization that was going to fix the world. Everything that they did, it was for the greater good. Obedience was the most important thing to create unity among the world. Even as she was reading it, she felt as though it was a lie. She had been told the same things her whole life, but there was something inside her that made it feel fake. But Barnes had suffered a head injury and the doctors stated his memories were lost, so perhaps he would believe anything if it came from the mouth of a trustworthy-looking woman.

Without HYDRA she would have been left for dead. She owed them her life. Or so she had been told; reading the script, it began to remind her of all she had been told throughout her life. It was all lies, filthy, dirty lies. And yet, without HYDRA, what would she be?

Nothing.

Bucky began to stir a few hours later, at first slight movements, and then gasps for air. She watched him carefully, unsure of what that metal arm was capable of, but she knew it was not activated. Regardless, it was likely that Bucky was too weak to move around much let alone break through the restraints. He had been saved by HYDRA, now it was time to convert him into the perfect, obedient soldier they wanted her to have been. They didn't succeed with her, but perhaps they would with him.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked through cracked pink lips and a raspy voice.

"I'll explain everything," Ophelia said, tucking a stray strand of dark brown hair behind her ear. "My name is Ophelia."