verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
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It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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"It's too early to call it a success."
Karpov's comment made Erik's features quirk into a wry smile as they both stood on the edge of the training floor, flanked by the silent from of the Soldier, recently returned from an assignment. Three treatments in, and the Colonel was still too proud to admit that Katrina was the greatest success to come out of the program, save for the Winter Soldier himself.
"The results are remarkable, you must admit." The older man mused, holding his hands clamped behind his back as they watched his daughter dance out of the way of a low kick aimed at her knees. "It took her two weeks to learn English fluently, that is no small feat."
"The intellectual enhancement is one I hadn't fully anticipated." Karpov admitted, watching the young woman step back to push a few strands of hair from her focused features, "But her strength doesn't yet match that of an unenhanced soldier."
His lips pressed into a thin line at that, the truth in Karpov's words evident as Katrina once again crashed onto the sparring mats with a grunt as her legs were swept out from under her. He didn't fully approve of this new development, the sparring sessions with the aggressive young assassin stationed in the base. He knew Josef's reputation for ruthlessness as well as any man in the facility, and he knew his daughter wasn't yet strong enough to hold her own against him, but it was Katrina that had requested this.
"We don't need it to." Erik reasoned as he watched her push herself up, "She could easily take over my role as Head of Intelligence in the program as well as maintaining her current roles. She isn't a soldier."
"And yet here she is, training."
Yes, here she was rolling her shoulders in their sockets and scuffing one foot against the mat as she prepared to face her opponent once more. He had seen her knocked back thrice now, and still Katrina seemed far from tiring. She had admitted as much herself, sometime after the second dose of the serum. Though outwardly there were no physical changes in her features, save for a small scar on her forearm that marked the site of repeated injections, the internal changes were clear. She felt restless without some outlet – she needed to move, to exert herself and test the limits of what she could do. That day he had watched her run twelve laps of the training floor without breaking a sweat, and then after that he had stopped counting. She had used to average seven before she would get bored, or tired.
She slept less too. After the first dose it had been five hours a night, now it was barely four, and yet she was more alert than ever. She wasn't even halfway through the course of treatments and her amplified abilities were already startling. The battered stack of paperbacks in multiple languages beside her bed was growing. Her desk overflowed with hand-sketched plans. It was as though even her motivation, her work ethic had been enhanced. What's more, she seemed to enjoy it – as though she finally had the ability to unlock the full potential of her mind, and now she was curious to see what her body could achieve.
