22. Raise your Flag

Flags and banners alike fluttered in the wind, their colorful symbols drawing the attention of any passerby. The boots of thousands of men resonated as they marched in one great column, their weapons and uniforms resplendent. Thousands of people cheered as they moved, some with complete abandon while others less so, their words of encouragement less honest.

In the middle of this great procession rode their leader. Charismatic and powerful, he had taken over the nation before anyone knew what was happening. His power was unchecked and his subordinates uncountable. The world trembled due to the war he had started and worried if they would survive his next action.

One man was not cheering. He had a grimace on his face as he moved furtively, trying to avoid attention as he prepared to complete his mission. The destiny of the world might well depend on him.

The man had now found what he was looking for. A fork in the road would allow him to do what was needed. The bomb in his hands would see to that.

He hid behind one of the big banners, the stylized symbol representing all he fought against. He knew he might not make it out after he threw the explosives, but if he could take down his targets then the sacrifice of his life would be worth it.

He was fresh, too fresh for many of his superiors. But he was the right choice for this mission, he had proven himself before and he would do so again. The target would be too far away for any normal person to throw such heavy explosive by hand and do it effectively, it was for this reason alone that only he could do it. He would have one chance and if he failed…

No, he would not fail.

The procession kept on moving, no one, neither the many guards nor the people seeing the parade, noticed him as he waited. His heart was steeled and his doubts gone, he would succeed or die trying.

Before long it was time, his target was almost inside the area where he could strike. It would be one simple movement, the 10 kilograms of explosives arching over the watching crowd and into the vehicle transporting the target.

He pulled back his arm, readied himself to do what must be done.

And then he doubted.

Alongside his target was a small child, she was animatedly speaking with him and they were both laughing as the target pointed at something in the distance.

He knew he had to act, that the life of one child was not worth risking those of millions. It was a once in a lifetime chance and he could not waste it.

He had killed before, by the dozens and by the hundreds. He was barely a few months into active service but he had already seen violence like few others. But he had also killed grown men, people who were ready to kill and be killed, this was different even if it should not have been. Yet he had to act.

But he could not do it, his conscience would not allow it. He would not become a child murderer even if it would condemn his soul to hell.

The target passed by and the would-be assassin stood there, knowing he had failed everyone who counted on him

As he left the area, he took one last look at the banner he had hidden behind and the great black swastika on it.

He had failed today, but Steve Rogers would make his amends.

---

​

"Sorry sir, are you ok?" The question brought Steve back to the present, where one police officer was looking at him with concern clear in his features.

"Of course officer, just reminiscing about some things. All of this," Steve gestured at the area around them, "is bringing back some bad memories. It is hard for me."

The policeman looked at him with understanding, a soft smile on his face, "Oh, I do understand sir. It is worse for us locals and while I would never say anything about our great King, I do find some of the spectacle worrying."

Steve found that to be an understatement. The streets were full of people and while most weren't cheering, if more than a few were, the event they had come to watch was awe-inspiring nonetheless.

A constant rain of flower petals fell from somewhere high in the sky, as thousands of troops, their armor shining as mirrors of gold and silver, marched in perfect formation. Every step felt like a thunderclap, as they, alongside many unidentifiable creatures, filled the avenue. They carried everything from beautiful polearms to heavy machine guns. It was both intimidating and wonder inducing to watch, an army straight out of fantasy marching through the streets of Ottawa, like something out of a work of fiction.

For Steve, it was especially uncomfortable, the grand speeches, the saturation of symbols, the militarism, the crude display of power. It brought back some of his worst memories. The fact it as all framed as something out of Tolkien only made worse. The cognitive dissonance making the already awful scene even harder to swallow.

"Don't worry, I'm just visiting. I'm just not used to it, that's all," Steve tried to reassure the policeman, his trademark smile a little forced.

The policeman looked at him, especially at his just a little longer than military regulation hair and his own service dress uniform clearly setting him apart from the, admittedly few, American tourists still in the city.

"Well, that's good to hear then. Though if you don't mind me asking, what is a soldier from the US doing here?"

"I was sent to be part of the embassy's military attache. I just wanted to see the city with my own eyes, it's been a long time since I last came here. A lot has changed since then." Especially the fact that the country is now under a brutal dictator.

"Heh, that's true. Ever since the war things have been changing rather fast. But well, at least the new administration isn't doing anything bad, Ain- ah, I mean, His majesty has been much more benign than we expected, eh" there was a clear moment of hesitation when the policeman spoke about Canada's current monarch.

"You don't have to be formal about the King with me, I won't tell anyone," pretended to joke Steve.

"It's not you I'm worried about," the policeman's joviality was now gone, replaced by a clear wariness.

"What do you mean by-?" But before he could continue the policeman's radio cut him off.

"Brown, we got an altercation one block from your position, please move to assist."

"Roger, I'll be there," answered the policeman, now identified as Brown, before looking apologetically at Steve "sorry, duty calls."

"Please go, officer. I will be ok."

With no time to spare the man took off running, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts.

What am I doing here? How can I let this continue? Such thoughts had been torturing him ever since he had set foot in Canada. The memories from his past, so long ago, had returned in full force and were driving him crazy. The idea that something similar could be allowed to happen and under his guard too, it was too much for him to bear.

But I must endure. Director Fury has a plan and I will see what I can do when the time comes. But for now I have to keep my eyes open, this meeting will be the moment when the "king" will spring whatever trap he has prepared.

Not long after his takeover Ainz Ooal Gown had accepted the entrance of international observers, who had then confirmed that nothing undue was being done to the people of Canada. While they had remained under martial law, nothing beyond the ordinary had happened.

Many saw this as something good, proof that the skeleton was not some kind of monster, but members of the intelligence agencies and a good chunk of the hero community recognized it for what it was. As long as Ainz presented an amicable facade to the world they would accept whatever he told them. Steve had seen it happen one time too many and knew the kinds of monsters that could hide in plain sight. It was in a world which appeased monsters that they thrived.

It was for this reason that when Fury approached him to be their ears and eyes in Ottawa he had instantly accepted. This was Steve's chance to save millions of people from a great evil and he would take it.

Fury had sent Steve to act not as Captain America, nor as a representative of SHIELD but as an actual part of the United States military. The paperwork and the orders were real, he was the legally assigned military attache to the embassy and if for some reason he were to be recognized, the legal fiction would be enough to protect both SHIELD and the United States from any diplomatic repercussions.

But for now, there was no evidence of the minions of the dictator known as Ainz Ooal Gown having discovered him and Steve would work to ensure it remained that way. His mission was to learn as much as he could about the forces occupying Canada and ensure that whatever happened in the Meeting would be reported to SHIELD.

That cursed meeting… Just thinking about it made Steve angry.

When the announcement that the rulers of Genosha and Latveria, the super-powered criminals known as Magneto and Dr. Doom, would be attending a diplomatic meeting with their new 'peer' in Canada, had come as a shock to almost everyone. Two of the most powerful, in both a direct and political sense, men in the world gathering to speak with what promised to become a new peer, had not done any wonders for the continued mental health of intelligence operatives and military men alike. If Ainz Ooal Gown managed to strike an alliance with either Doom or Magneto, never mind both, then any chances of freeing Canada would evaporate.

But as urgent as Steve's mission was, the meeting would not occur until the next day. Until then a nationwide celebration was declared, people were given a free day from their jobs and were expected to join the celebrations held in honor of Doom and Magneto alike.

Steve once again looked at the scene, now the columns of marching soldiers were long past and a great quantity of what could best be called 'armor' was walking by.

If the infantry made each step feel like thunderclap then the monsters now walking through the busy streets felt like an artillery barrage. The heavy frames making the ground shake as they moved in unison.

They were tall, almost three meters if Steve were to hazard a guess, and their armor dark as the night. Spiked and tough, it was something worn to fight and to kill. There was none of the chivalric charm to be found on the most common foot soldiers, these were brutal killing machines with the same violent grace of a tank.

There were at least five hundred of them, if not more, divided into two files two monsters thick. They all had their weapons sheathed but at the ready, thus freeing one hand while the other carried an incredibly heavy tower shield. An enormous sword on their back and a heavy auto-cannon over their left shoulder provided options for ranged and close-quarters combat. Steve wasn't sure how powerful the cannon was but he assumed around a Bushmaster equivalent or so.

I wonder how they handle recoil with that design?

But the most attention-grabbing thing, at least to Steve, were the two flags held by the pair at the front. At a simple glance it was the usual red and white Canadian flag, but when one looked with more attention the lack of the Maple Leaf became apparent, its replacement a strange crest in bright red.

The symbols of freedom are always the first to go. I just can't believe this is actually happening so close to home.

Having decided that he had enough for one day, Steve started walking away from the parade. While the streets were not one would call 'full', there were still enough people to make anything but a slow pace rather difficult.

He had barely walked twenty meters before a commotion drew his attention.

The crowd parted quickly as Steve pushed his way through it, his enhanced physique making it easy to push the onlookers away.

When he arrived, the scene that awaited him was strange, to say the least.

A creature, best described as a robe-wearing, mostly decomposed corpse with only flakes of skin remaining, was holding a man. Its bony grip like a steel clasp on the man's wrist. The man, on the other hand, was busy moaning from the pain and trying, unsuccessfully, to free himself.

"By the authority of His Supreme Majesty, Ainz Ooal Gown, you are hereby under arrest. You have the right to a fair trial and a clean punishment. Please remember to be grateful to the Supreme one for his kindness." Its voice was raspy, like what one could expect from a lifelong smoker.

"I- I didn't do anything, let me go!" Pleaded the man to no avail, his face pale with fear.

"Lying is also a crime in the new penal code approved by His Majesty, so I recommend you continue doing so. Your punishment will be increased accordingly." It may have come off as a joke from anyone else but the creature had no emotion of any kind in its words, just a cold satisfaction.

The presumptive criminal paled even more at that but wisely decided to remain quiet.

With no effort the creature,- They call them Liches, though Steve - stood up, its steel grip never once lessening as it dragged the man back.

"I will let you go now, but know that if you try to escape your punishment will escalate into something much worse. You have been warned." And just like that, he released the man, who fell forward from his now unbalanced posture.

For a moment everyone, Steve included, held their breath. Everyone was wondering the same 'will he run?'. But thankfully, either because he was too shaken to even think about it or not stupid enough to try, the man just remained sitting on the ground and weeping quietly.

"And you," spoke the Lich as he turned around and pointed his fleshless hand at a woman close by.

"Y-yes?"

"I assume this is your belonging," the monster handed the woman a cellphone with a yellow casing and a sticker of Thor's face on it.

"Yes, but how… when?"

"It was taken by the pickpocket," explained the creature as it handled it back to her. "Now citizens, please leave this place and let the authorities work. Your continued presence will be considered as a disruption of the peace."

The sudden change of gears from helpful to menacing caught many off guard, but they were quick to leave the area, the woman saying a quiet 'thank you' before quickly walking away.

Steve was about to leave too, but a hand held him back as he tried to.

"You, wait there," It was the Lich's hand, its bony fingers ice-cold as they held his shoulder.

Did it discover me?

It was preposterous, the idea that he could be so easily recognized. While it was true that his face had been seen before in public events, Steve had mostly appeared as the masked Captain America for most of his career and the times his face had been properly recorded could be counted on one hand.

"Are you Captain Rogers?" the question only confirmed his fears. If his cover had been blown then he would have no choice but to make an escape on his own. If he were to be captured then SHIELD and the United States would disown him, his presence in Canada marked as the actions of a rogue agent.

��Yes," Steve would not back down now and there was clearly no point in pretending anymore.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Good, I was told to find you." Steve tensed, ready to punch the creature's head off.

"By whom exactly?" He just had to make time, wait until no civilians were close enough to risk casualties if he couldn't take the undead in the first hit.

"I delivered the invitation to tomorrow's gala to your embassy and I was told you were to be given one too," the being explained matter of factly.

Steve had been expecting many things, a fight first and foremost, but to be given a highly elaborate envelope with beautiful a wax seal and to be invited to a party was not one of them.

"Now that you have received the invitation my work is done. I would be pleased if you didn't lose it, but alas I can't count on you humans managing the simplest of jobs," spoke the undead.

"That… won't be a problem, thank you for your concern," Steve wasn't sure why he added the last part, probably the way his mother had raised him causing him to do it by reflex.

The being said nothing but gave Steve a simple nod before raising a hand to its head, as if it were listening to something.

Now that Steve was not thinking about how to punch it into dust, he noticed the undead, for all he was an abomination against nature, was very well dressed. The Lich had a fine crimson robe, with gold embroidery. It's left hand held a dark wooden stave, topped by an egg-sized ruby. It was nothing like the zombies Steve thought of when talking about the undead.

Noticing he was still there, the undead gave Steve the stink eye, or it would have if it had eyes.

"You may not be a citizen of this great nation ruled by the Supreme One, but you have to respect the same laws. Move along." Without waiting for Steve's answer it went back to what was previously doing.

Steve decided not to push his luck and did as he was ordered.

The walk back to the embassy was quiet. Not long after he was alone in his assigned room, the entire episode with the Lich replaying in his head over and over.

It was brutal, it was cruel but it wasn't wanton. It did its job well.

His experience was that the more brutal a regime the less competent it was. People could only work so well when in such fear for their lives, especially because the enforcers of such regimes were usually no better than thugs, rapists and other low-lifes.

But this thing was quick, efficient and fair… for a certain definition of fair at least.

In the end, Steve gave up on analyzing the event anymore. He would write it down and make it part of his full report to Fury. The rest would come later.

"Now, about that letter."

Quickly breaking the seal, Steve found himself reading a beautifully handwritten letter. Its flowery language used a lot of words to say little but the gist of the message was that he was invited to the formal gala to be held in honor of President Magnus and King von Doom next day. He was expected to attend and if needed be would be offered everything, from a tailored suit to…

'A full healing in case of bad health'? I think this is something Fury will certainly want to know about.

Remembering that one of the Ambassador's aides had a back problem, Steve decided to ask the man if he would be ready to test what their 'hosts' were offering.

Putting down the letter, Steve got back up. He still had many things to do if he wanted to be ready for what may come tomorrow.

I don't know what you are planning but I will be ready. I won't fail again, never again.

---

AN: Yeah yeah, I know. "Where is the meeting?" Well, first of all this is the lead up to it, setting the stage so to speak. Second, I still need the Magneto meeting before I can go with the three way one and that's out of my hands.

Regardless, before someone does decide to start talking about "Hey Steve, isn't not careing about discount Nazi Canada a little hypocritical?" please keep in mind we are going with a much less overt "EVIL!" for both Canada and the US. Sentinels are known but they are "to subdue violent mutant criminals" and concentration camps are not something people get to learn about, the Canadian government made sure of that. The same goes for the US. They have made sure people like Steve don't know about it.

Now, if he were to learn about them, well... let's just say things would get bad really fast for a lot of people. I mean, this is motherfucking Captain America, this shit wouldn't happen if he knew about it.