𝟏𝟓 ᴠᴀʟᴇᴅɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

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sokovian war memorial, border of romania and ukraine

It wasn't home any more, but standing in front of the Sokovian Memorial made Helmut feel as though he could reach out and touch the face of Novi Grad once more

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It wasn't home any more, but standing in front of the Sokovian Memorial made Helmut feel as though he could reach out and touch the face of Novi Grad once more. Too many sweet and bitter memories swirled around the man's mind, mimicking the sunny yet overcast sky above him. Choking back a lump in his throat, the Baron sighed as he read the names on the large rock slab.

Names he knew well, Heike, Carl, Heinrich Zemo, and those he did not recognize, all engraved in the monument for no one to see. No one would visit, no one did. It was merely a symbol of what once was and what had been taken from him. The world knew that Sokovia was on the verge of a military implosion, but no one had asked for the casualty that came from Novi Grad's destruction. All at the hands of another: the Avengers, Ultron, whoever the Baron wanted to blame in that moment. Everything that once existed now lay in ruin under the cry of justice.

Justice. Nothing was just anymore. Helmut knew this better than anyone else. There would always be a constant struggle for power amongst those whom thought they deserved its sweet embrace. Justice was imaginary, an ideology that made people feel pure in their intentions and actions, no matter how heinous their crimes.

Helmut knew that he was among them, crying out for justice and validity, and with every action came an equal opposite reaction. Newton's Third Law hung over his head like a cackling jester. Some called it karma. Helmut Zemo called it principle.

Which is why he remained stoic and poised as the former Winter Soldier's boots crunched against the rough sand on the cobbled stone ground that surrounded the memorial. He was not shaken by the Avenger's appearance, and in fact was surprised that it had taken this long for the man to arrive.

Twisting his lips, the Baron chose his words carefully. "I thought you'd be here sooner."

Finally glancing toward Bucky, he immediately looked to the ground, trying to maintain his confident exterior, despite the fire that roared inside of him. His heart ached with pain, but he knew picking a fight with the man was not in the cards today. He had other intentions, and indulging a conflict was not the chess piece he wanted to play.

Bucky's silhouette was postured firmly in Helmut's peripheral vision, but the click of a pistol being cocked forced the Baron to look to his company. If the White Wolf had found him, the Dora Milaje were not far behind, and he expected just as much. The women would take him to another facility and lock him away or Bucky would kill him right in front of the memorial. Neither option was appealing, but Helmut knew that it was necessity. It was simply an equal opposite reaction.

As he began to press about Karli Morgenthau, Bucky stopped the Baron and tapped his boot. "You're both in on this. Where is she?"

Knowing that the White Wolf was not referring to the leader of the Flag Smashers, the Baron quietly repressed his previous comments and fell silent. Looking to the pistol in Bucky's hand, Helmut thought of the moment he had decided to take his own life in Siberia when he had lost everything. A similar feeling crept up his spine as he recalled the gunfight at the Romanian estate. The blood that had been spilled into his hands quietly haunted him, as he imagined it pooled out onto the floor of the helicopter they had escaped in.

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