FORMER SOVIET PRISON // UNKNOWN LOCATION
1150HRS. Steve fell like a brick. Using his momentum to twist himself, he positioned the shield between him and the ground. Tucking as much of his body behind the vibranium disc as possible. He winced as he slammed against the ground, with enough force that would have at the very least put a normal man out of commission, at the worst, there would have been substantial internal injuries. Pushing himself onto his feet he made a beeline for the logging section of the yard, he had never known exactly where it was. Even in his early days in the prison, the old warden had had the wherewithal to keep Steve away from actual weapons - this was before he had later been banned from any form of prison labour that required a tool other than his two hands.
Getting over to the woodshop he looked over his shoulder. He couldn't see any guards yet, however it was just a matter of time. Picking up an axe he ran over to a pile of kindling. Resting the shield down at an angle, he raised the axe above his head with two hands and then brought them together crashing against the shield. There was a mighty clang as the axe collided against the impenetrable shield, sparks went flying everywhere. The kindling barely smoked. At this point he could hear shouting, he didn't even dare look back as he raised the axe again.
With the second strike he stripped paint, and the kindling started to smolder. The third time a small flame appeared, dropping the axe he crouched and began to blow. The flame took, and without hesitation he grabbed one of the uncut logs and using the axe head carved an archaic symbol into the wood. Putting the wood onto the fledgling flame, symbol side first, he almost lost his eyebrows as the flames suddenly grew in intensity. Instead of the pitiful little fire, the pile of kindling was now ablaze in a bonfire of impossible size. A shockwave followed a boom, he heard guards knocked off their feet as he pushed himself against it.
Steve grabbed his shield, and with all his hope he cast it into the flames. The last thing he saw before it disappeared was the paint the Russians had defaced it with being burned away. He got a glimpse of the shield as he knew it, before it disappeared into the flames. From what he had been told, many, many years ago about this ritual is that he could have stepped through the flames themselves without injury. Steve couldn't do that though, there were good people here. Good people who didn't deserve to be here would either leave together or would all remain.
He turned to see the current Red Guardian, Nikolai, walking towards him. Steve raised his hands in the air, a sly grin on his face.
"So, that concludes our training for today-"SMACK. Steve saw the punch coming from a mile away, he allowed it to take him onto the ground and he rolled over as Nikolai was upon him. Grabbing Steve by his jumpsuit in the middle of his chest to pull his torso up, Nikolai right arm was raised ready to strike.
"What did you do?""I just had a little fire-"SMACK"What, did, you, do?""Honestly I just wanted to cook some marsh-"SMACKSteve could feel the heat in his cheek. He winced through the pain.
"Fine, you want the truth?" Nikolai grip on Steve slackened a little.
"I made a collect call-" SMACK, and out went the lights.
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