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winters8child · 6 months ago

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It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 65

I stood rooted to the spot, my breath catching in my throat as I stared at the framed photograph of Steve and me. It was as if time had slowed, the memory rushing back with startling clarity. Nat had captured the moment at the party, a candid shot I hadn’t even realized she had taken. In the photo, Steve and I stood on the balcony, wrapped in each other's arms, the soft glow of the evening light casting a golden hue around us.

I could almost feel the warmth of Steve's embrace again, recalling how he had confided in me just moments before, his voice tinged with a vulnerability I rarely saw. He had admitted that he felt like he was always in Bucky’s shadow, a constant second best. My heart had ached for him, and I had reassured him with everything I had, telling him that I would love him until my very last breath.

The picture captured the aftermath of that confession. We were both smiling, a shared secret in our eyes, our lips still tingling from the kiss we had just shared. My cheeks were flushed with emotion, the intensity of the moment lingering between us.

Bucky had been right, we did look happy—radiantly so, as if nothing else in the world existed except for us in that fleeting moment. I barely had a moment to process the weight of Bucky’s final goodbye when a deafening crash shattered the air, followed by a thunderous roar that reverberated through my very bones. The ground seemed to tremble beneath me, a sense of urgency igniting in my chest.

Without hesitation, I grabbed my gun, the cold metal familiar and reassuring in my grip, and bolted toward the lab where Tony and Bruce were working feverishly on the Cradle. My heart raced as I dashed to the elevator, jabbing the button repeatedly as if sheer force could make it move faster. The ride felt agonizingly slow, each second stretching into an eternity.

When the doors finally slid open, I rushed out, my breath hitching as I caught sight of the scene unfolding before me. Thor was crouched atop the Cradle, his mighty hammer crackling with fierce lightning that arced directly into the device. The lab was bathed in an eerie, flickering glow, the air thick with tension. Every eye in the room was wide with horror, frozen in the face of something terrifying and unknown.

It was then that I noticed Steve had returned, flanked by the two talents he had brought back with him. My gaze locked onto the girl’s face, and in an instant, a torrent of anger surged to the forefront of my mind—rage I had tried to bury, now burning with renewed intensity.

Suddenly, the Cradle burst open with a deafening crack, sending shards of metal and glass flying. From within the wreckage, a figure emerged, shrouded in an unsettling, almost otherworldly aura. Its skin was a deep, blood-red, gleaming eerily under the flickering lights. At the center of its forehead, an orange crystal pulsed with a menacing glow, catching the light with a hypnotic brilliance. That must be the gem Dr. Cho had warned us about.

The figure’s gaze swept over us, its eyes sharp and calculating, as if assessing the situation with a mix of caution and latent power. Slowly, it began to straighten, rising to its full height with an air of quiet, ominous authority. The tension in the room thickened, each of us holding our breath as we stared back, uncertain of what this new and terrifying presence might do next.

Without a hint of warning, the figure lunged forward with blinding speed, a blur of red streaking directly at Thor. But Thor was ready. With lightning reflexes, he caught the figure mid-charge, his powerful hands gripping its shoulders. With a mighty heave, Thor hurled the figure across the room, sending it crashing into a glass panel. The impact was brutal, the glass shattering into a cascade of jagged shards that exploded outward with a deafening crash.

The figure halted abruptly in mid-air, hovering just inches from the shattered window. It seemed almost mesmerized as it stared out at the world beyond, where the night had settled over the city, leaving the skyline aglow with a sea of shimmering lights. The figure's gaze shifted to its own reflection in the fractured glass, its expression unreadable as it absorbed the sight.

Steve tensed, ready to spring into action, his muscles coiled like a loaded spring. But before he could make a move, Thor extended a hand, halting him with a firm grip. Thor’s eyes were locked on the mysterious figure, a mix of curiosity and caution etched on his face as he watched, waiting to see what the next move would be.

The figure slowly turned to face us, and as it did, its crimson skin began to shift and ripple, transforming before our eyes. The red hue gradually faded, replaced by the sleek appearance of a grey suit that seemed to form seamlessly over its body. With a controlled descent, it landed in front of us with a solid thud, the sound reverberating through the room.

Thor, sensing a change, set aside his hammer and stepped forward, his gaze steady as he approached the figure. The tension in the room was palpable as we all watched, unsure of what would happen next.

The figure looked at Thor with an expression that seemed almost human, its eyes filled with something akin to gratitude. "I am sorry. That was odd. Thank you," it said, its voice startlingly familiar. The words carried a calm, measured tone, and the unmistakable voice of Jarvis echoed in our ears, leaving us stunned by the realization of who—or what—this figure truly was.

Thor sighed, the tension in his shoulders visibly easing as if a great weight had been lifted. His eyes remained on the figure, watching as it stood in silent contemplation, processing something deep within. Then, without warning, the air behind the figure seemed to shimmer, a subtle ripple passing through the space.

As we watched, a cape materialized, unfurling like a flag in the breeze. The fabric was rich and flowing, reminiscent of Thor’s own, and it draped gracefully over the figure’s shoulders, completing the transformation.

Steve approached cautiously, his posture tense and his eyes locked on the figure. “Thor, you helped create this?” he asked, his voice edged with a mix of disbelief and stern authority. The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired.

Thor turned to face Steve, his expression grave. “I’ve had a vision,” he began, his voice carrying a somber tone. “A whirlpool that sucks in all hope of life, and at its center is that.” He extended a hand, pointing directly at the glowing gem embedded in the figure’s forehead.

Bruce, who had been watching from the sidelines, suddenly stepped forward, his face paling as he processed Thor’s words. “What? The gem?” he stammered, his voice tinged with nervousness.

"It's the Mind Stone. It's one of the six Infinity Stones. The greatest power in the Universe, unparalleled in its destructive capabilities.", Thor explained his eyes wandering over us. Steve's face darkened, "Then why would you bring..", Thor interrupted him before he could finish his question. "Because Stark is right".

Bruce’s eyes widened in disbelief at Thor’s explanation. The realization that Thor had just confirmed Tony’s concerns sent a ripple of unease through him. The gravity of the situation was clear—if Thor was acknowledging that Tony was right, it meant we were facing a threat of unprecedented scale.

“The Avengers cannot defeat Ultron,” Thor continued, his voice carrying the gravity of a dire warning. His eyes met ours with an intense urgency.

Before any of us could fully absorb this, the figure spoke its voice a smooth, almost soothing contrast to the tension. “Not alone.”

I stepped forward cautiously, my brow furrowed in confusion and suspicion. “Why do you sound like Jarvis?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and concern. The familiarity of the voice, so eerily similar to Tony’s trusted AI, only deepened the mystery of the figure before us.

Tony’s eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and apprehension as he gestured toward his creation. “We reconfigured Jarvis’s matrix to create something new,” he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of nervous excitement. The figure before us stood tall and enigmatic, a new and unsettling presence in the lab.

We all eyed the figure warily, each of us grappling with a swirl of suspicion and uncertainty. Could we trust this entity? Was it merely an extension of Ultron, despite its vehement denials? The questions lingered, casting a shadow over the room. In these unprecedented times, I couldn’t help but long for the clarity and simplicity of the 1940s.

Steve stepped forward, his face set in a determined frown. “Are you on our side?” he asked, his voice laced with doubt.

The figure remained still, its expression inscrutable. The witch, her eyes dark with foreboding, interjected with a shiver in her voice. “I looked into its mind,” she said, her gaze flickering to the figure. “All I saw was annihilation.”

The figure turned its gaze toward us, its eyes reflecting a cold resolve. “I am on the side of life,” it said, the words resonating with a chilling clarity. “Ultron isn’t. He will end it all.” The gravity of its statement hung heavy in the air, the weight of impending doom was palpable.

"What is he waiting for?", Tony asked getting impatient for the figure to simply reply with "You".

If Ultron was waiting, we had to confront him and end this madness once and for all. The figure's demeanor shifted, an almost mournful expression crossing its features as it spoke. “I don’t want to kill Ultron,” it said, its voice heavy with regret. “But given what Ultron has planned for our planet, there’s no other choice.”

It paused, letting the gravity of its words settle over us. “There may be no way to make you trust me,” the figure continued a note of urgency in its tone. “But we need to go.”

Before we could react, the figure moved with unexpected speed and grace. In one fluid motion, it grasped Thor’s hammer, lifting it with ease before walking over and handing it to him. The gesture left us all stunned, our mouths agape as we watched the hammer, a symbol of Thor’s immense power, pass from one hand to another.

Thor surveyed the room with a knowing smirk, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Right,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of approval and resolve. He clapped Tony on the shoulder with a firm pat, his gesture both reassuring and congratulatory. “Well done.” With that, he turned on his heel and strode purposefully toward the exit.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of what was to come pressing down on us. Steve broke the stillness, his voice cutting through the tension with a commanding edge. “Three minutes,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “Get what you need.”

The urgency in his voice was palpable, fueling our resolve. It was time to put an end to this nightmare.

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