“You ought to be dead!” Mohinder was too excited to revert back to English. He was used to speaking his native tongue with Bruce. He’d always thought the other man enjoyed hiding his words since Hindi was one of the cultural languages that HYDRA tolerated but it wasn’t one that was offered in their global universities for study like English, German, Italian, Russian and Japanese were. Bruce was an outcast. Mohinder, despite his associations, was less so, but he managed to alienate himself anyway with his die hard work ethic.

He showed Bruce the results, the physical vial in the readout on his scanner. There were artifacts of Steve Rogers cast all about, his drawings and his uniforms and so on. There had been a lock of hair found in Howard Stark’s possession (labeled neatly and included with before and after but long corrupted blood samples from the Project Rebirth kit that HYDRA had taken control from not long after the war). It had afforded Mohinder a complete look at Captain America from the inside out.

He was utterly unique. The markers had mutated towards an almost inhumanity. And now he was looking at the same sequence here in the palm of his hand.

Tony rolled his eyes. “I think you check out.”