The grainy black-and-white footage captured the technological innovations of the last century, its flickering images seemingly transporting the handso man back to that era...
His face displayed complex emotions... nostalgia tinged with regret, as if he had personally witnessed that chapter of history.
Back then, he hadn't been this tall and muscular, rely a scrawny kid weighing less than a hundred pounds. His father had died from German mustard gas, while his mother (a nurse) was struck down by a stray bullet.
Aside from a best friend who shared similar hardships, he had no other family.
Amid World War II's chaos, propelled by patriotic fervor, nearly every young man yearned to enlist and fight for victory.
Repeatedly rejected by recruiters for his frail physique, the man's life might have taken a completely different path had he not attended that Stark Expo with his friend... the turning point that altered his destiny forever.
"Nostalgia isn't always a healthy habit." A clear voice interrupted the man's reminiscence. Turning, he found a young man approaching.
The newcor pointed to the still-playing footage where Howard Stark enthusiastically expounded his vision for future technology.
Much like his son, the industrialist who would build a military empire loved the spotlight... though Howard's rcantile instincts ran far deeper.
"Most people don't linger in this exhibit. Outdated relics hold little appeal," Sean remarked, studying the handso, low-profile figure in the baseball cap.
He hadn't expected to encounter this legendary figure here. Tiline-wise, the man should have only recently awoken and still acclimating under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s supervision.
"Watching these makes feel like I've slept through decades, just waking from a long dream," the man said wistfully, his tone carrying the lancholy of a veteran recalling past glories.
His na was Steve Rogers, the legendary Captain Arica, beneficiary of the Super-Soldier Serum, who led Allied forces to defeat the Nazis and thwart HYDRA's planetary conquest.
"You resemble a friend of mine," Sean observed quietly.
The man's features bore striking similarity to Johnny Storm, the Human Torch of the Fantastic Four. Were it not for his composed deanor (utterly lacking Johnny's characteristic flamboyance), Sean might have mistaken his identity.
"Sounds like a tired pickup line," the man chuckled, casting a final glance at the concluded footage, a bygone era forever lost to him.
"I'd never use such clumsy tactics to approach a war hero," Sean smiled faintly.
Standing beside the man, he watched as the tape reset, Howard's voice once more filling the quiet space with 1942's faded grandeur.
Surprise flickered across the man's face, "You recognize ?"
"How many Arican children haven't read your comics? Collected Captain Arica trading cards? Visited WWII museums?"
Sean studied the tall, athletic figure with amusent, "Hello, Captain."
Caught off guard by the recognition, Steve Rogers seed taken aback. Freshly awakened from his icy slumber, everything felt alien, like drawing back curtains after a long sleep to find the world utterly transford. Friends and lovers were either gone or aged beyond recognition, leaving him utterly alone.
"People still rember relics like ?" Steve's laugh held self-deprecation.
After S.H.I.E.L.D. recovered him from the glacier, the super-soldier had gradually regained consciousness.
The plane crash's imnse pressure and subzero temperatures had instantly frozen him mid-fall. His serum-slowed tabolism preserved him perfectly across seven decades.
Waking to a world where victory was long secured, his sweetheart was now elderly, and most of his comrades were deceased... this indescribable isolation had prompted Nick Fury to assign him a SHIELD psychologist.
"Heroes never go out of style," Sean humd softly, "Who's strong and brave, here to save the Arican way..."
Hearing the familiar jingle, Steve's cheek twitched. Those war bond promotional tours ranked among his most cringe-worthy mories.
As the sole successful super-soldier, instead of being deployed to the frontlines, he had been reduced to a propaganda tool, reciting scripted lines in ridiculous costus daily. Had he not rescued his captured friend, Bucky Barnes, Steve might never have beco a war hero.
"Sean Cyphers," the young man introduced himself, dropping the teasing.
Ti possessed magic to reshape all things. Once an inspiring anthem, the song now rang hollow, proof of how drastically eras had shifted...
No wonder the resurrected Captain Arica wandered lost in this new century. The nation he had sworn to defend no longer needed his protection.
"I've been learning to use the internet... Your na pops up frequently," Steve said with genuine warmth, shelving his musings.
The modern world demanded gradual adaptation. Seventy years had stolen everything (love, and purpose), leaving only fading mories.
Noticing black-suited figures in the crowd, Steve's expression turned apologetic, "I'm afraid I must leave."
"I live in Brooklyn. I'll treat you to a drink next ti." Clapping Sean's shoulder with characteristic earnestness, the captain departed.
Being constantly surrounded by SHIELD agents, psychologists, and officials would weary anyone. Even this rare solo excursion still hadn't escaped surveillance.
Watching the black-suited entourage disappear, Sean's smile faded. He wondered what thods S.H.I.E.L.D. might employ to investigate him...
Once Stark Expo concluded, perhaps the Asgardian prince would descend upon Earth, consequently lifting the veil on the Nine Realms' mysteries.
If Iron Man's birth heralded the age of superheroes, the Asgardians' arrival would shatter humanity's illusion of cosmic solitude.
Only then might people realize that beyond this blue planet lay infinite galaxies awaiting exploration...
A single world could no longer contain civilization's rapid advancent. Having conquered sky and sea, mankind would finally turn its gaze starward.
Sean's stern expression softened unconsciously... He eagerly anticipated that day. He yearned to personally welco the dawn of humanity's cosmic era...
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