C҉R҉O҉W҉ | ᴍᴄᴜ x ᴍᴀʟᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

II - 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

S H I E L D  H Q

THE HEADQUARTERS WERE in a chaotic frenzy. Each second, a new wounded or incapacitated agent was brought on a stretcher. Some with deep claw marks on their skin. 

In another room, SHIELD agents watched the body cam footage, all with a horrified look etched on their faces.

In the center of the control room, Clint Barton stood before a holographic display of a figure. Filled with pitch black but incomplete as data from several footage were still structuring altogether the appearance.

"It's been years since his last known showing. Even then, people think it was just one of those government planted hoaxes." Agent Hill turned to Nick, overseeing the chaos from the balcony window. She hands the director a tablet with a newspaper article, "This was the clearest and last known image of him. There was a manhunt. Everyone described it as a blur or some sort of phantom."

Nick stares at the article before nodding as he hands over the tablet to his agent. He places his hands behind his back.

"How bad is it?" He asks.

Maria sighs.

"Lacerations. Several, if not, more. They said he has talons. Others were heavily bruised. They said he had electrified eskrima sticks. Many with broken bones on the ribs and the legs. The rest are incapacitated, unconscious. Still no report on their CAT."

"Casualties?"

"Other than severe injuries, none."

Nick snickers.

"Well, how bout' that? He's a boy scout." He sarcastically quipped. His jaw then hinges, eyeing a private room, "How's Romanoff?"

"Physically, she's got a few bruises and cuts. Small ones. But her right leg took the worst. The Crow apparently twisted it, dislocating in the process. They got the bone back and braced her knee with servomotors to quicken the healing process."

Nick furrows his eyebrows, "What do you mean 'Physically'?"

Maria purses her lip, looking down to the floor.

"I've never seen her like this. She's eating up her words. Hardly muttering a sentence." She said, her gaze drifting to the door, "She's really pale. . . like she'd seen a ghost."

Fury glanced at the door, "I'll talk to her."

As Nick entered the room, he was immediately met with the sight of the redhead, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. She looked up, her eyes wide.

"D-Director." She said, her voice shaky

Fury nodded, pulling up a chair and sitting down across from her, "Wanna talk?"

Natasha took a deep breath, steadying herself.

"I-It was like nothing I've ever seen. . . He was fast, brutal. . . relentless. It was like he wasn't even human."

Nick's eyes narrowed, "Describe him."

"He had these white eyes." Natasha's voice wavered, "Glowing in the darkness. And the way he fought. . .it was precise, almost mechanical. But there was a rage there. . . a-a kind of controlled fury. . . terrifying."

Nick leaned forward, his gaze intense.

"Did he say anything?"

"He spoke about the shadows. . . h-how he would always be watching. I-It was like he was everywhere and nowhere at the same time."