Steve didn't wait.
The moment he saw Bucky's hand rise from the rubble, he dashed forward. Metal screeched beneath his boots as he clawed through the debris, throwing aside scorched panels, broken piping, and chunks of concrete. Every second felt like a countdown to collapse. The tower groaned louder with each tremor—louder, heavier—as if every breath of time was borrowed.
Bucky dragged himself free, coughing, his body battered and face streaked with ash and blood. His uniform was torn at the shoulder, the metal arm exposed and scratched. He looked up, breathing hard, and locked eyes with Steve.
"You alright?" Steve asked, grabbing him under the arm.
Bucky gave a slight nod. "Been worse."
A violent tremor rippled through the corridor. The sound of warping steel filled the air. Overhead, sections of the ceiling caved in just a few meters behind them, crushing what remained of the blast door. The floor vibrated under their boots.
"Move!"
They ran. Together.
Navigating the fractured hallway was like escaping a collapsing mine. Chunks of ceiling dropped in bursts. The floor beneath them cracked, tilting at angles that made every step feel like a gamble. Steve slammed his shield into twisted doors, breaking through the wreckage. Bucky stayed close behind, stumbling once, but regaining his footing.
Out of the smoke, a HYDRA straggler emerged—confused, bleeding, still holding a rifle. He raised it.
Bucky didn't hesitate. One shot. The man dropped. No time to think.
Outside the Triskelion, the second helicarrier continued its slow spiral. With its targeting systems offline, its maneuvering protocols failed. Its nose dipped slightly too low.
And clipped the edge of the tower.
The impact was thunder.
A shockwave ripped through the building. Walls buckled. Pipes burst. Ceiling tiles exploded in bursts of flame. The tower lurched sideways.
Steve and Bucky were thrown into the wall. Rubble rained down around them. A steel beam crashed where they'd just stood seconds before.
Alarms shrieked at full volume. Fire suppression systems spat mist into an inferno. The floor beneath them cracked with spiderweb fractures.
Monroe's voice cut through the chaos, distorted by static. "Extraction window closing. If you're not out in sixty seconds, I can't get you!"
"North stairwell!" Steve yelled, grabbing Bucky's shoulder. "We take it to the roof!"
They moved.
Steve led the way, shoving aside wreckage and holding back flames with his shield. They climbed the emergency stairwell two, sometimes three steps at a time. Every level groaned beneath their feet. Dust cascaded from the ceiling. Sparks danced in the stairwell air.
Above, beyond the broken walls, a Quinjet hovered just outside the tower rim. Its turbines screamed against the heat. The nose was angled forward, ramp open. Smoke billowed around it like storm clouds.
Inside, Monroe stood at the edge of the open hatch, wind whipping at his coat. He reached out, hand extended.
"Let's go!" he shouted.
Steve pushed Bucky forward. "You first!"
"No—"
"Now!"
Bucky took the leap.
His boots struck the edge of the Quinjet. Monroe grabbed his arm and yanked. Bucky hit the ramp hard, rolled, and scrambled inside.
Steve turned back.
Below him, the stairwell began to disintegrate. The lower floors crumbled away like paper set on fire. Heat roared upward. Fire surged through the hole. Steel reinforcements split down the seams.
He braced himself.
He took one breath.
And leapt into the smoke.
Time slowed.
The flames licked at his boots. Ash burst around his shoulders. The roar of collapsing concrete chased behind him. He sailed through the air, reaching toward the edge of the ramp—
Monroe lunged, arm outstretched.
End of Chapter 111
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