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Chapter Forty-Eight: The Vision

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Unable to put up with the unmatched stupidity that was Bruce and Tony, I'd retired to the lower floor to join Clint. I wasn't much help to him, of course, but if he got a hold of Nat somehow, I wanted to be the first to know.

Hours had passed, and I was beginning to think Clint's plight was completely useless.

That was when I notice a tremor rack Clint's body, as he leaned in to the radio, holding his headset close to his ear.

I sat up straighter, waiting for him to share what he'd heard. A few moments passed, and he put the headphones down, turning to the computer. On the screen, he pulled up a map, honing in on some European country. He looked to me, and smiled.

"I got her."

Before either of us could move, the sounds of fighting broke out upstairs. Our smiles faded.

"Tony's gonna be in so much shit," I breathed, as we stood up and made for the stairs.

We passed beneath a glass ceiling, and above it stood someone I didn't recognize. Before I could ask who it might have been, Clint had pulled out his gun and let off a shot through the glass.

The man fell through the shattered floor, landing in an unbecoming heap at our feet. On the floor above us, the accented voice of a woman called out, "Pietro!"

"Ah," I nodded, looking down at the man, "Strucker's experiments, nice to meet you."

"Pleasure," the man groaned painfully below us.

Clint smiled. "What? You didn't see that coming?"

Suddenly, a harsh beeping sounded from upstairs. Then, more sounds of fighting and equipment breaking.

"Shit," I breathed, as Barton and I raced upstairs, "Whose side exactly are we on?"

"Uh, the neutral third party?" Clint answered uneasily, as he drew his gun and I drew my flames.

We emerged into the room as it erupted into chaos, Cap throwing his shield, Wanda and Bruce a tangle of flailing limbs, Tony shooting with only half his suit on. Loki leaned casually against the wall, arms folded and an amused smirk plastered across his face.

"Can I suggest that we go back downstairs?"

"Not a half-bad idea," Clint nodded in agreement.

But before either of us could take another step, the fighting paused, as everyone's eyes flew to Thor.

"When did he get here?" I asked.

"Not sure," Clint answered, "You go downstairs for five minutes and you miss everything, apparently."

Thor lurched forwards, and I watched as he jumped atop the Cradle, hefting up Mjolnir and calling to the lightning.

"Wait!" Banner shouted.

But it was too late. Thor brought the hammer down, encasing the Cradle in lightning. The circuits fried and the screens erupted in static.

Everyone watched with baited breath.

And then the Cradle exploded, sending Thor hurtling backwards.

Smoke enveloped the room, pouring from the opened Cradle. And then, something that looked part man, part machine emerged soundlessly. Everyone watched him silently as he looked around the room.

I frowned, meeting Clint's eye. "What the f—"

My words died on my lips as the thing lunged at Thor, so quick he was a blur of red and silver.