HellFire's Rider Of Vengeances

Chapter Five: Mistakes

                    The night was heavy with tension as Clarke swooped through the shattered window of Stark Tower. The living room lay in disarray, a testament to the chaos that had unfolded. She landed gracefully amidst the debris, her eyes immediately catching sight of the two sets of golden wings attached to her back. They stretched out magnificently, each wing spanning an impressive twenty-two-point-eight feet. The wings slowly began to shrink, folding in on themselves with a series of soft pops until they disappeared entirely into her back. Clarke reached behind her, fingers brushing over her skin, but there was no trace of the wings that had just been there. Her mind raced with questions, but a furious voice cut through her thoughts. "I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark!" Thor's voice was a thunderous roar, filled with anger.

                   Clarke's attention snapped to the source of the commotion. She followed the sound to Tony's and Bruce's lab, where she found Thor holding Stark by the throat, his grip unyielding. "Thor, drop him!" Clarke commanded her voice firm and unwavering. The Asgardian turned to look at her, his eyes meeting hers. He saw the fierce glow in her eyes, a light that shone like a star. Reluctantly, he released Tony, stepping back with his hands raised to show he meant no harm. Tony rubbed his neck, wincing, as the room fell into a stunned silence, all eyes on Clarke as her eyes returned to their normal state.

                    Steve stepped forward, his expression a mix of concern and determination. "Blaze, the Legionnaire?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

                    "I lost it about a hundred miles out," she explained, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. "But it's headed north, and it has the scepter."

                    Thor's frustration was palpable as he glared at Tony. "Now we have to retrieve it again," he spat.

                    Natasha, ever the voice of reason, interjected. "The genie's out of that bottle. Clear and present is Ultron."

                   Dr. Cho's face, etched with confusion, looked to Tony. "I don't understand. You built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?"

                   Tony's laughter was bitter, and Bruce subtly shook his head, trying to signal him to stop. "You think this is funny?" Thor's disbelief was evident.

                    "No. It's probably not, right? Is this very terrible? Is it so... is it so... it is. It's so terrible," Tony replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

                    Thor's anger flared again. "This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand."

                    Tony's annoyance was clear as he retorted, "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this."

                    Clarke stepped between them, her presence commanding attention. "It doesn't matter how or why it happened right now. What matters is stopping Ultron before he kills someone else."

                    Steve nodded in agreement. "Blaze is right. Ultron's calling us out. And I'd like to find him before he's ready for us. The world's a big place. Let's start making it smaller."

                    Clarke made her way up to her room. The rest of the team was scattered throughout the base, calling in favors and scouring for any leads on Ultron's whereabouts. Clarke's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as she entered her room, the door closing softly behind her. She stripped off her ratty clothing, tossing the torn and bloodied fabric into the trash with a sense of finality. Standing naked in front of her long mirror, she turned her back to it, searching for any sign of the wings that had emerged earlier. Her reflection showed nothing unusual, but then she saw a subtle movement beneath her skin. Clarke's eyes widened in shock, and she quickly looked away, her heart pounding. She hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans and a cotton long-sleeve shirt, the familiar fabric grounding her. As she braided her hair, her fingers moving with practiced ease, Natasha appeared in the doorway, her expression serious. "Maria has found something," she said, her voice breaking the silence. Clarke nodded, acknowledging the information.