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The Soldat feels nothing; he stares at his metal arm and admires the congealing blood coating the bullet silver. Within the peripherals of his vision, a body lies discarded and broken like a doll at his feet. He cares little for it; he stares at the tight fist of Hydra as blood pools and drips from his unbroken lifelines. Another mission completed.
When the Soldat disappears, tucking himself back into his cage, Bucky steps forward, his metal arm shaking like a feather being battered back and forth by the storm’s fiercest winds, and he drops to his bruised knees and sobs. He stares down at his left hand, the glittering, shiny metal covered and dripping in dark red blood. Another counter mission failed.