guys this is such a long 3000 word filler chapter. cus I finished writing all of CATWS and realized I only had 19 chapters, so I managed to make another to make it 20!!

Anyways I understand that BUCJY would probably fuck them hydra agents up for hurting seven, but why would he when that would just hurt Seven more?

I HATE VIKTOR BUT HES NOT AS BAD AS IRINA

TW: killing, and abuse

SEVEN SAT IN THE STARK, dimly lit room, her back straight, hands clenched in her lap. She knew what was coming; the stern summons by "the old man" was never a good sign. Her heart pounded in her chest, the anticipation of what awaited her filling her with a cold dread.

The door creaked open, and in walked the old man, his face etched with lines of age and authority. He was a relic of HYDRA's long and twisted history, his presence commanding respect and fear in equal measure. He sat across from Seven, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her want to shrink into herself.

"Seven," he began, his voice gravelly and devoid of any warmth, "you've proven yourself to be... an asset to our cause. However, recent events have shown us that you need to be refined, honed into a more precise instrument."

Seven held his gaze, swallowing hard. She knew he was referring to Irina, her previous handler. The memory of that fateful day still haunted her; the blood, the violence, and the terrifying realization of what she was capable of.

"You will start going on frequent missions," the old man continued, leaning back in his chair. "You will be trained to kill efficiently, without hesitation or remorse. This is the path you've chosen, and there is no turning back."

Seven nodded, her throat tight. She wanted to argue, to say that this wasn't the life she wanted, but the words wouldn't come. The old man had a way of making her feel small, insignificant, and utterly powerless.

"You'll have a new trainer," he said, his voice cutting through her thoughts. "Someone who will teach you everything you need to know. Irina's... incident will not be repeated."

A shiver ran down Seven's spine. She had no idea who her new trainer would be, but the cold efficiency in the old man's tone left no doubt that it would be someone ruthless.

"Follow me," he ordered, standing up and gesturing for her to follow. Seven stood, her legs trembling slightly as she walked behind him. They navigated the labyrinthine corridors of the HYDRA facility, each step echoing ominously off the metal walls.

Eventually, they arrived at a large, reinforced door. The old man pressed a code into the keypad, and the door slid open with a hiss. Inside was a spacious training room, equipped with all manner of weapons and training apparatus. And standing in the center of the room was a tall, muscular man with a scar running down the side of his face.

"This is Viktor," the old man said, gesturing to the man. "He will be your new trainer. He will teach you everything you need to know about becoming a true assassin."

Viktor stepped forward, his cold eyes appraising Seven. "Welcome, Seven," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "We have much work to do."

Over the next few weeks, Viktor put Seven through a grueling training regimen. He was relentless, pushing her to her physical and mental limits. Every day was a new test of endurance, skill, and resolve. Seven learned to fight with a variety of weapons, from knives to firearms, and even hand-to-hand combat. Viktor's methods were brutal, but effective. He drilled into her the importance of precision, of striking hard and fast, of never hesitating.

But it wasn't just the physical training that was difficult. Viktor also conditioned her mind, teaching her to suppress her emotions, to think like a predator. He taught her to read her enemies, to anticipate their moves, and to exploit their weaknesses.

One day, Viktor introduced a new element to her training. He led her to a small, windowless room with a single chair in the center. Sitting in the chair was a man, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with fear.

"This is your next lesson," Viktor said, handing her a knife. "You must learn to kill without hesitation. This man is a traitor to our cause. He has information that could compromise our operations. Your task is simple: eliminate him."

Seven's heart pounded as she took the knife. She looked at the man, his eyes pleading with her. She wanted to turn away, to refuse, but Viktor's cold gaze held her in place.

"Do it," he commanded, his voice like ice.

Seven swallowed hard, her hands trembling. She stepped forward, the knife feeling heavy in her hand. The man's muffled cries filled her ears, and she felt a surge of panic. But Viktor's presence was a constant reminder of what was expected of her.

With a deep breath, she steeled herself and plunged the knife into the man's chest. His eyes went wide with shock, and then he slumped forward, lifeless. Seven felt a wave of nausea wash over her, but she forced herself to remain composed.

"Good," Viktor said, nodding approvingly. "Again."

Over the following weeks, Viktor continued to bring in captives for Seven to kill. Each time, she felt a little more of her humanity slip away. The first few kills were the hardest, but as time went on, she found herself becoming numb to the act. It became routine, a necessary part of her training.

Finally, the day came when Viktor deemed her ready for her first mission. "You've come a long way, Seven," he said, his tone almost proud. "It's time to put your training to the test."

Seven felt a mix of dread and determination. This was what she had been prepared for, but the reality of it was still daunting. She suited up, strapping on her weapons and pulling on her mask. Viktor handed her a dossier with the details of her mission.

"Your target is a high-ranking government official," he explained. "He's been working against our interests for years. Your job is to eliminate him and ensure that his death sends a clear message to those who would oppose us."

Seven nodded, her mind racing with the details of the mission. She was to infiltrate a heavily guarded building, bypass security, and take out the target. It was a high-risk operation, but Viktor had trained her well. She knew she could do it.

That night, Seven set out on her mission. She moved through the shadows with practiced ease, her senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She reached the building and scaled the walls, using her grappling hook to reach the top floor. She disabled the security systems and slipped inside, her movements silent and deadly.

As she navigated the corridors, she encountered guards and dispatched them quickly, her training kicking in automatically. She reached the target's office and found him sitting at his desk, unaware of the danger lurking outside his door.

Seven took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She pushed open the door and stepped inside, her gun raised. The man looked up, his eyes widening in surprise and fear.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling.

Seven didn't answer. She pulled the trigger, the silenced shot echoing in the small room. The man slumped forward, dead. Seven approached the desk, leaving a HYDRA insignia as a calling card.

She turned to leave, but as she reached the door, she heard a sound behind her. Spinning around, she saw another man standing in the shadows, a gun pointed at her. She reacted instantly, diving to the side as the shot rang out. The bullet grazed her arm, but she ignored the pain, focusing on her attacker.

In a blur of movement, she closed the distance between them, disarming the man with a swift kick. She grabbed his arm and twisted, forcing him to drop the gun. Then she delivered a series of quick, precise strikes, taking him down with ruthless efficiency.

Seven stood over the man's unconscious body, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She had completed her mission, but the close call had rattled her. She made her way back out of the building, her mind racing with the events of the night.

When she returned to the HYDRA base, Viktor was waiting for her. "Well done," he said, his eyes glinting with approval. "You handled yourself well. You're ready for more."

Seven nodded, feeling a mix of pride and dread. She had proven herself, but at what cost? The girl she had once been was slipping away, replaced by a cold, efficient killer. She wondered if she would ever find a way back to who she used to be.

But for now, she had a role to play, a mission to complete. She would continue to follow Viktor's orders, honing her skills and becoming the weapon HYDRA wanted her to be. Because in the world she lived in, there was no room for anything else.

SEVEN MOVED THROUGH A WAREHOUSE
with practiced precision, her footsteps silent on the concrete floor. She had been on many missions since her training with Viktor began, each one a little more dangerous, a little more morally gray. She had learned to suppress her emotions, to act with cold efficiency. Tonight's mission was no different—or so she thought.

Her target was a man named Daniel Hartman, a former HYDRA scientist who had defected and was now working with an anti-HYDRA task force. His betrayal had made him a high-priority target, and Seven was tasked with eliminating him.

She navigated through the maze of shipping containers and machinery, her senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her hands were steady. She had done this countless times before. She could do it again.

Reaching the office where Hartman was hiding, she peered through the crack in the door. He was sitting at a desk, poring over documents, oblivious to the danger lurking outside. Seven took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she had to do. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, her gun raised.

Hartman looked up, his eyes widening in surprise and fear. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling.

Seven didn't answer. She moved closer, her finger tightening on the trigger. But just as she was about to pull it, Hartman's eyes locked onto hers, and he whispered, "You're the girl."

Seven froze, the words cutting through her like a knife. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Hartman stared at her, his eyes filled with recognition. "You're the girl. The one Bucky—James Barnes—protected. The one they called Seven."

Her heart skipped a beat. How did he know about her? About her papa? She felt a surge of emotions that she had long buried—fear, confusion, anger. "How do you know that?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Hartman swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving hers. "I worked with HYDRA for years. I knew about the experiments, the conditioning. I knew about you. I saw the files. You are just a child, a pawn in their game. But you don't have to be anymore."

Seven's grip on the gun faltered. She had been trained to kill without hesitation, without remorse. But Hartman's words had struck a chord deep within her. She felt a wave of memories flooding back—her childhood, the brutal training, Bucky's attempts to protect her.

"Shut up," she said, her voice wavering. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," Hartman said, his voice steady. "I know that you're not a monster. You're not a killer. You're a victim, just like the rest of us. You can still get out. You can still be free."

Seven's mind raced. She had spent so long suppressing her emotions, her memories, her humanity. But now, standing here with her target pleading for his life, she felt a flicker of something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.

For a moment, she hesitated, her finger hovering over the trigger. She thought about everything she had been through, everything she had done. She thought about Bucky, and the small glimmers of humanity he had shown her, even when he was under HYDRA's control.

Slowly, she lowered the gun. "Get out," she said, her voice trembling. "Get out and never come back."

Hartman's eyes widened in disbelief. "Thank you," he whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "Thank you."

He stood up and hurried out of the office, leaving Seven standing there, her heart pounding in her chest. She had spared his life, defied her orders. For the first time in a long time, she had made a choice of her own.

As she stood there, the weight of her actions settled over her. She knew there would be consequences. Viktor and HYDRA would not take her defiance lightly.

BACK AT HER CELL, things were heavy with silence, broken only by the distant sounds of muffled voices and footsteps echoing through the underground corridors. Seven sat on the cold, metal bench, her hands trembling slightly. She knew she had defied orders, and she knew what that meant. The fear of punishment was almost as crippling as the memory of the choice she had made.

The door to the cell clanged open suddenly, and Bucky rushed in, his eyes wide with panic. "Seven!" he called, dropping to his knees in front of her. He gathered her into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. "Oh God, Seven, are you okay?"

Seven was stunned by his sudden appearance. "Papa?" she whispered, clutching his shirt. "What's happening?"

Bucky pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, he placed his hands on her face, his expression a mixture of relief and fear. "It's gonna be okay," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm here. I'm gonna protect you."

She could feel his heart pounding against her, his grip on her tightening as if he could shield her from what was coming. But she saw the desperation in his eyes, and she knew he couldn't stop what was about to happen.

The door clanged open again, and two HYDRA guards stepped inside, their faces emotionless. "It's time," one of them said, his voice cold and unfeeling.

"No!" Bucky shouted, his hold on Seven tightening. "You can't take her! She's just a little child!"

The guards ignored him, stepping forward to grab Seven. She felt her father's grip on her loosen as the guards pulled her away. "Papa!" she cried, reaching out for him.

Bucky struggled against the guards, his eyes wild with desperation. "Please, don't do this!" he begged. "She's just a child! She didn't know—"

One of the guards struck Bucky across the face with the butt of his rifle, sending him sprawling to the ground. "Stay down, Soldat," the guard said, his voice icy.

Seven's heart pounded in her chest as the guards dragged her out of the cell. "Papa!" she screamed, her voice echoing down the corridor.

Bucky tried to get up, his eyes filled with tears. "Seven, I'm sorry," he called after her. "It's gonna be okay! I promise!"

But his words were lost in the distance as the guards hauled her away. Seven's mind raced, fear gripping her heart. She didn't know what awaited her, but she knew it wouldn't be good.

They dragged her through a series of dimly lit hallways until they reached a heavy metal door. One of the guards punched in a code, and the door slid open with a hiss. Inside was a stark, sterile room, with walls lined with various implements of punishment. A steel chair sat in the center, its restraints glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights.

The guards shoved her into the chair and began strapping her down. She struggled, but their grips were unyielding. "Please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't do this."

One of the guards, a man with a cruel smile, leaned down close to her face. "You disobeyed orders," he said softly. "And now you must be taught a lesson."

Seven's heart raced as the guards finished securing her. She looked around the room, her eyes landing on the various devices of pain and torture. She felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead.

The door opened again, and Viktor stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He walked over to her, his eyes cold and assessing. "You failed your mission," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "You let the target live. Do you understand the consequences of your actions?"

Seven swallowed hard, her mouth dry. "I—I'm sorry," she stammered. "I couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him."

He gave her a hard slap across her face that echoed through the room. She winced, trying to hide the fact that hurt her. Viktor's eyes narrowed. "Weakness," he said, his voice harsh. "We do not tolerate weakness."

He stepped back, nodding to one of the guards. The guard moved to a panel on the wall and pressed a button. Seven heard a low hum, and the restraints on her wrists and ankles tightened painfully.

Seven spit out blood from her mouth. "Please," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I'll do better. Just don't—"

Her words were cut off by a sharp jolt of electricity that coursed through her body. She screamed, the pain overwhelming. The current stopped as suddenly as it had started, leaving her gasping for breath, her muscles twitching.

Viktor stepped closer, his eyes cold. "This is just the beginning," he said. "You will learn to obey. You will learn to kill. Or you will suffer."

Seven's vision blurred with tears, her mind reeling from the pain. She thought of her father, of his desperate attempts to protect her, and felt a surge of defiance. She would survive this. She had to. For him. The electricity coursed through her again, and she screamed, her body convulsing.