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... ratched wooden table in the Dawnridge studio, the early evening light filtering through a narrow window, casting a warm glow across the cluttered room filled with cables, mics, and the faint hum of amplifiers. The air carried the scent of worn leather and brewing tea. His guitar rested in its open case nearby, the leather strap's stars catching the light, a tether to his mom's pride. The Hearth's embers still glowed—Shatterpoint at eighty-four thousand listens, Flicker nearing seventy-three thou ...

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1946

Peggy Carter walked to the Brooklyn Bridge and poured Captain America’s blood sample under the bridge with her own hands. “Goodbye, dear.” A woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her, as if it had come out of nowhere. “He will come back.” At this time, Carter’s face was full of tears, and he looked at the woman in black with a black hat in his pocket very puzzled, “Ha, I’m sorry to scare you suddenly. Seeing what you said Yes, I just want to persuade you.” After finishing speaking, he looked towards the bridge and looked at the sea view in the distance. Carter, who was very vigilant, felt relieved after hearing such an explanation, wiped away his tears, and wanted to leave. “I have a friend ……” The mysterious woman suddenly said another word, interrupting Carter, which made her feel uneasy.

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