Chapter Thirty-Three: The Shield of Ademan

A day passed. Following the instructions, Steve summoned the soldiers he had previously rescued, quickly assembling a force with the beginnings of true structure. This was largely thanks to his personal charisma, his strong sense of justice, and a natural ability to lead, as if he were born to be a captain.

Around noon, a helicopter landed within the training base. Fury, carrying a military pack on his back, stepped off the aircraft, glancing around in confusion—he still didn't know why he had been reassigned from the front lines alone. The frontline commander had only informed him there were important orders, then told him to pack quickly and put him on a helicopter as if he were being rushed onto the battlefield.

"Fury, long time no see." A familiar voice called from behind. Fury turned and, upon seeing who it was, his mouth fell open in shock. "Ka—Kyle?"

"Address me properly," Kyle said, feigning seriousness, pointing meaningfully at the rank insignia on his chest.

"Yes, Second Lieutenant Kyle. You’re not telling me you’re the one who brought me here, are you?" Fury replied with a hint of annoyance. He’d already learned on the front that Kyle had been promoted, so he wasn’t especially surprised.

"Who else but me would use military authority to have you specially transferred?" Kyle shrugged.

"Alright, what do you want me here for? Don’t tell me you need me to fight alongside you again." Fury’s voice trembled a little. Although his previous partnership with Kyle had earned him his promotion to sergeant, the memory of that battle was still a little too wild for comfort.

Kyle was never one for playing by the book. If he could fight head-on, he would; if he couldn’t, he’d find another way to keep fighting. War fanatic was no exaggeration.

"We’re not heading to the front," Kyle tried to reassure him.

Fury was just about to relax when Kyle’s next words nearly made him choke. "We’re infiltrating enemy territory—attacking six German factory bases."

"You’re dragging me into the deep end," Fury groaned, exasperated.

"I’m giving you a special opportunity—letting your command talent shine ahead of its time." Kyle flashed a devilish grin.

A future director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—such a talent shouldn’t be wasted in the stalemate of the front lines.

In the first underground level of the base, the narrow corridors were lit by dim yellow lights, dividing the floor into various research departments and basements. Many communications officers, researchers, and military officers were busily analyzing the situation at the front.

Kyle led Fury deep inside. As they reached the entrance to the Strategic Science Department, someone inside seemed to notice them. A figure in blue strode quickly over.

"Kyle, you’re just in time. What do you think of my new combat uniform?" Steve stood in front of the door, asking for Kyle’s opinion.

Kyle eyed him up and down. Compared to before, Steve was now dressed in a much higher-quality and more stylish fitted suit, still dominated by the signature blue, with a conspicuous silver star at his chest and a deep blue mask covering half his face.

How to put it? The look was certainly striking. But was it really suitable for actual combat? Kyle couldn’t help but think, wouldn’t the enemy immediately know that the man dressed so flamboyantly was the leader? Who else would they focus their fire on?

Still, what he thought and what he said were two different things: "It’s excellent! It truly fits your title as ‘Captain America.’ Leading from the front with such presence will inspire tremendous courage and faith in your team."

"Really? That’s great to hear." Steve nodded, satisfied. Only then did he notice Fury behind Kyle. "And this is?"

Kyle made introductions. "This is Nick Fury—a command talent I had Carter transfer from the front especially for us."

"Hello, I’m Steve Rogers, one of the team leaders for this operation." Steve extended his hand openly, and Fury shook it.

The future director of S.H.I.E.L.D., and the very symbol of its forerunner—thanks to Kyle’s efforts, these two met beneath the base, making history ahead of schedule.

"Kyle, I knew you’d be pleased with the Captain America suit I made. The material isn’t ordinary leather—it’s high-fiber, resistant to damage, dust, and heat, and offers some bulletproof capability," Howard explained, emerging from the research room. He then added, as if to surprise Kyle, "I’ve prepared a set for you as well. The material just arrived by air."

"Ah, that won’t be necessary," Kyle said with a forced smile. Wearing a Captain America-style uniform into battle? The embarrassment would be overwhelming.

Howard was insistent. "It’s essential. I promised to provide scientific equipment for both super soldiers. It’s my duty in the military."

After much resistance, Kyle finally relented. "Alright, you can make the suit, but the design needs to be modified according to my specifications."

"Of course," Howard agreed, beckoning them all over. "Come, I have something to show you."

Howard led them into the lab, opened a shipping crate, and produced an item, displaying it for everyone.

Kyle’s eyes widened first. It was a shield—a smooth, metallic, disc-shaped shield. At the same time, the card information for the shield appeared before his eyes.

[Shield of Adamantium]: Created from original Adamantium metal—a blend of vibranium, iron, and an unknown chemical. Nearly indestructible. It resists extreme pressure, temperature, radiation, and electromagnetic attacks, blocks kinetic energy transfer, and boasts perfect aerodynamics (can be thrown to return to its starting point by controlling force and angle).

A rare blue item!

"This shield was forged from a material synthesized by accident. The process and proportions remain unknown, so it can never be recreated. It’s truly one of a kind," Howard explained, looking between Kyle and Steve.

There was only one shield; who should receive it?

Both were super soldiers. In the past, he would have given it to Steve, who became a super soldier first. But now, professionally and personally, Kyle was clearly the best candidate to wield it.

"Kyle—" Howard began, but Kyle had already taken the shield, tapping its hard surface as he admired it. "This is, indeed, an exceptional piece of equipment."

"Steve, you take it," Kyle said, passing the shield to Steve’s arms, surprising everyone present.

"Kyle, I…" Steve started, awkwardly clutching the shield, unsure whether to refuse.

"That’s enough," Kyle interrupted, clapping Steve heavily on the shoulder. "No need for ceremony. Just make sure you don’t hold me back on the battlefield."

"Yes, I understand!" Steve replied earnestly, gripping the shield with newfound resolve and determination in his eyes.

Perfect. Just like that.

Kyle smiled. He had his vibranium bracers for defense; the shield, though impressive, didn’t suit his "offense is defense" approach.

Besides, without his shield, how could Steve ever go toe-to-toe with his adversaries?

Captain America should stand out, dressed in his most eye-catching uniform, wielding the strongest shield, always at the front line, taking the hardest hits.