Receiving Data

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...

"Do you have doubts about the organization?" Christopher queried, a hint of suspicion lacing his tone.

"No, not at all. I am utterly loyal to the organization," Dr. Zola swiftly clarified. As the chief scientist, he harbored a deep understanding of Hydra's ruthless grip, fully aware of the dire consequences awaiting those who dared to betray the organization.

"Then why the reluctance to relinquish this technology to the organization?" Christopher pressed further.

"Enough chatter, I'm willing to share it with you," Dr. Zola relented.

"Then spill it," Christopher replied eagerly.

Thankfully, Dr. Zola had been secluded from the world for decades. Otherwise, given his remarkable intellect, he would have never fallen for Christopher's ruse.

Guiding Christopher, Dr. Zola led him to a set of equipment, featuring a helmet intricately connected to an array of data lines.

However, Christopher's enlarged Titan head posed a dilemma, necessitating his return to human form.

With the helmet securely in place, Christopher followed Dr. Zola's instructions, connecting a plug from the device to the host computer.

"Ready?" Dr. Zola inquired.

"Ready," Christopher affirmed, cognizant that Dr. Zola was about to transmit the technology of brain-computer interfacing to him. In his previous life, such a proposition would have been deemed perilous, considering Dr. Zola's potential to usurp control. However, with his Titan body and the infusion of Dr. Zola's genetic material, Christopher's intellect rivaled that of his predecessor, alleviating any apprehensions of subjugation.

"Commencing transmission," Dr. Zola announced.

As the data streamed into Christopher's consciousness, his understanding of brain-computer interfacing deepened with each passing moment.

In a mere ten seconds, the transfer of knowledge was complete.

The ease with which knowledge was acquired left Christopher yearning for more. "Dr. Zola, could you impart additional knowledge to me? I wish to expand my understanding and evade accusations of ignorance from our leader," he requested.

Reluctant yet unable to refuse, Dr. Zola transferred some extraneous knowledge to Christopher, seamlessly integrating it into his consciousness.

Dr. Zola's advanced intellect required a vast database to contain its wealth of information.

Hours passed, yet Dr. Zola's transmission remained incomplete.

Caught in a trance-like state within the depths of knowledge, Christopher remained oblivious to his surroundings, unaware of Natasha's presence as she quietly observed his mysterious excursion to the site of Captain America's training.

Observing Christopher wearing a helmet adorned with data cables, a look of pure enjoyment on his face, Natasha couldn't help but be curious about what he was up to. Despite her curiosity, she refrained from interrupting Christopher, recognizing the gravity of the situation.

Dr. Zola was engrossed in delivering information, oblivious to Natasha's presence.

Natasha patiently waited, enduring the passing of dawn to dusk and dusk to dawn repeatedly for three days until she saw Christopher finally open his eyes.

"Christopher, how are you?" Natasha inquired promptly.

Upon seeing Natasha, Christopher thought to himself, "Oops." He had only gained minor knowledge from Dr. Zola, not yet obtaining the powerful technologies he sought. Natasha's sudden appearance would undoubtedly put Dr. Zola on high alert.

Indeed, when Dr. Zola spotted Natasha, he asked alertly, "Who are you?"

"I'm Natasha. Who are you?" Natasha responded, her curiosity piqued by the antiquated computer being used in what seemed like a modern era.

"Are you from Hydra?" Dr. Zola questioned.

Natasha's expression shifted, and she glanced at Christopher.

Christopher, feigning anger, snapped at Natasha, "Didn't I tell you to guard the door? Why did you come in?"

Natasha grasped Christopher's intention but acted as if she hadn't heard, persisting, "Tell me, what are you doing? Who is he?"

Christopher, seething with anger, contemplated slapping Natasha and jeopardizing her career. "Go out and guard the door," he bellowed.

"I won't go out if you don't tell me," Natasha retorted stubbornly, biting her lip.

Christopher shot Natasha an angry look, silently vowing to make her pay.

Without removing his helmet, Christopher hurried to the mainframe, his hands swiftly flying over the keyboard.

A crackling sound filled the air as his fingers, as fast as lightning, inputted strings of data into the computer.

"What are you doing?" Dr. Zola asked anxiously, sensing an ominous premonition.

Christopher had no time to answer; he raced against time to modify the system, preventing Dr. Zola from contemplating further.

"You can't do this, I am the chief scientist of Hydra," Dr. Zola protested, frantically attempting to repair the system.

Ignoring Dr. Zola's pleas, Christopher turned to Natasha without hesitation. "Natasha, help me sever the connection between the host and the database."

This time, Natasha complied, swiftly drawing a dagger from her calf and slicing through the data lines.

As the data lines were severed one by one, Dr. Zola's efforts to repair the system grew increasingly sluggish.

"Stop! Your actions are betraying the organization, and they will not forgive you," Dr. Zola pleaded desperately.

Christopher remained unfazed, continuing to manipulate the system's data.

"Stop, I surrender. I'll give you whatever you want," Dr. Zola conceded defeat, his tone resigned.

"Natasha, halt," Christopher commanded.

Natasha obediently ceased her actions, stowing away the dagger and standing by Christopher's side.

Christopher turned to Natasha, explaining, "His name is Dr. Zola, the most brilliant super genius scientist during World War II. I require his knowledge, so please refrain from causing any trouble for now, alright?"

Natasha was stunned. "Dr. Zola hasn't been deceased for many years?"

"Yes, he's dead," Christopher confirmed.

"Then who's communicating with you through this antique computer?" Natasha questioned, puzzled.

"It's Dr. Zola himself. Before his demise, he transferred his brain's data to the computer, relying on a vast database to simulate his thought processes," Christopher elucidated.

"Incredible," Natasha marveled at the revelation.

"I'm pleased to hear that, but let me remind you, this remains my most remarkable invention," Dr. Zola interjected proudly.

"Alright, Dr. Zola, copy and transmit all the data from your brain to me. Afterward, I promise to assist in your resurrection," Christopher proposed.

"Very well. I hope you'll honor your word," Dr. Zola replied helplessly, resigned to his fate.

"Guard the door and ensure no interruptions," Christopher instructed Natasha.

"Understood," Natasha acknowledged, realizing Christopher's deception regarding Dr. Zola's resurrection.

....

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