This Is Stella's Reality

July 12, 2015

Steve tapped a pen to the conference table. He was frowning as Maria Hill told us the intel she had gathered. My hands rested on his forearm and Bucky's knee, hoping to at least make one of them relax.

"He's all over the globe," Maria said. "Robotics labs, jet propulsion facilities, weapons manufacturers. Reports of a metal man, or men, coming in and emptying the place."

"Fatalities?" Bucky asked. His voice was thick with something I couldn't detect. Anxiety, depression, lack of sleep. We were all in the same boat.

Maria shook her head and took a deep sigh. "Only when engaged. Most of the victims made it out in a fugue state going on about old memories and their worst fears. There were also reports of something too fast to see.

"We've determined who they are," Maria said. She flicked the remote control and two people appeared on the screen. One was the red haired girl from my vision of the future. "Meet twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. After their parents were killed, they agreed to become Strucker's new test subjects."

My blood ran cold. There was only one way they could have gotten their abilities. My eyes rushed to Loki who was already staring at me. His eyes were steady on mine. Don't say anything, he warned.

"She has telekinetic abilities along with energy manipulation. And he has an increased metabolism that allows him to run at incredible speeds."

Their pictures stared back at me. They were at a protest, yelling and angry. I assumed they had every right to be. Their home was in disarray, and they had lost their parents. I didn't blame them. They wanted to save their home. Fight for what they believed was justice.

"It makes sense Ultron would go to them," Natasah sighed. "They have someone in common."

Maria laughed, "Not anymore." She changed to the next screen to show us an image of Baron Strucker dead in his jail cell. There was a single gunshot wound to his head, and blood was splattered on the wall. Peace, was written with the blood, still dripping and alive.

Tony sucked his teeth, "Nice. He did a Banksy at the crime scene just for us."

"This is a smoke screen," Bucky said. His voice was exhausted. He had stayed up all night tracking leads. There were dark circles around his eyes. " Why send a message when you've just given a speech?"

"Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss," Clint said slowly. He looked just as tired. He rubbed his hand over his face. He tapped on his tablet's screen and laughed. "Yep, everything we had on Strucker is officially gone."

Maria laughed quietly. "Well," she said with a tease to her voice, "not everything."

And that's how we found ourselves digging through boxes and boxes and even more boxes of physical files and paperwork. The conference room became a disaster of thrown papers and cardboard boxes. Known associates, frequent locations, catalogued bases. My mind was dizzy with information.

"Seems like a popular guy," Tony remarked as he flipped through an old SHIELD file.

Bruce looked at him like he was crazy. "These were horrible people, Tony. Like look at his man." He held up a file of a tattooed and gruff looking man. His hair was curly and greasy, and a thick beard wrapped around his face.

Tony stared at the file for a moment before recognition dawned over him. "I know him," he breathed. He reached for the file and stared a bit harder. "It was a long time ago, but I know him. He operates in Africa, along the coast. He's a Black Market arms dealer."

We all turned to Tony with disappointed but unsurprised looks on our faces. He held his hands up in defense. "Listen, there are conventions, okay? You meet people; what can I say? I never sold him anything." He rolled his eyes and turned back to the files.

Thor looked over Tony's shoulder and pointed to something. Tony shrugged, "It's a tattoo."

"No," Thor replied. "These are tattoos. That is a brand."

Bruce took the file back from Tony and ran it through a computer program. I watched from the couch, interested to see how this played out. A match appeared on the screen.

"It's a word from an African dialect meaning thief." Bruce turned back to the group with a small smile on his face. "Thief in a not so friendly way."

"What dialect?" I asked.

Bruce turned back to the screen and squinted. "Uh, Wakanada. Wa-wa-wa-kan-da," he stammered.

Instantly, Steve, Tony, and Bucky all exchanged looks with each other. My heart skipped a beat. They were walking in hushed whispers, but I strained my ears to hear them.

"I thought your father said he got the last of it?" Bucky said.

I stood and walked over to them, "Got the last of what?"

They turned to me with grave faces. Steve turned to his shield which was sitting on the floor nearby.

"The strongest metal on earth."