AutumnXd
patreon
CHAPTER 9
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 20:02:18 +0000 UTCThe team stood at the edge of the laser corridor, a glowing death trap humming with menace. Black Widow's eyes narrowed, a flicker of excitement breaking through her usual stone-cold vibe. Tony had already swiped one side mission earlier, strutting off with a shiny new superpower like he'd just won the lottery—leaving the rest of them to divvy up a handful of measly points like kids splitting Halloween candy. And that T-Virus upgrade? The one that could turn a regular schmuck into a pint-sized Superman? She'd had her eye on it from day one.
In Tony's hands, it was a toy for a billionaire man-child to play with. In hers, with her skills? It'd be a freakin' masterpiece—a one-woman symphony of badassery. She glanced at the leaderboard glowing on her HUD. There he was, Iron Man, lounging at the top like a smug cat on a throne.
One little side quest had turned him into a walking tank. So what kind of god-tier boost would first place snag you? Tony had beaten her to the punch once already, but this time? This laser corridor was her jam—agility, precision, danger. Her playground.
"I'm taking this one," she muttered, her poker face cracking just enough to show a glint of hunger. She didn't wait for applause. She never did.
"Yo, heads up, people!" Matthew barked, totally oblivious to the team's vibe—like a guy yelling about traffic in the middle of a bank heist. His eyes were glued to the corridor ahead, wide and twitchy, like it might sprout legs and chase him. "That right there? That's the company's idea of a welcome mat—stuffed with more lasers, electric zappers, and high-tech nastiness than a sci-fi villain's wet dream. Normally, you'd need the VIP key to waltz through, but plot twist: the Red Queen's gone full Rouge on us. That key's as useless as a screen door on a submarine now. We're doing this the hard way, folks!"
He trailed off, chest heaving, staring at the corridor like it owed him money. This was the company's crown jewel of defense, built to keep intruders out of the underground base. Now it was their problem. Without the key, they were staring down a nightmare—a tightrope walk over a pit of fiery death. Even for grizzled mercs like them, this was next-level insanity. One slip, and they'd be crispy critters.
But deep down, Matthew felt a tiny spark of glee. After eating Tony's dust for weeks—watching him and his fancy-pants crew mow down zombies like it was a video game while Matthew's squad scraped by—this was their moment. The laser corridor didn't care about super strength or snarky one-liners. It demanded finesse, training, the kind of elite skills his team had in spades. Tony could flex all he wanted; he wasn't brute-forcing this one.
"Finally," Matthew thought, a smug little smirk tugging at his brain. "Time to show these clowns who's boss."
He snuck a glance at Tony, expecting to see that cocky grin falter. Instead, what he saw made his stomach drop.
Black Widow was already moving—like a caffeinated ninja who'd just chugged a triple espresso. She bolted for the corridor, her body a blur of grace and grit, like if a cat and a cheetah had a baby and then gave it Red Bull. It was jaw-dropping, terrifying, and honestly, a little rude to the rest of them who were still stuck being regular humans.
Matthew's jaw hit the floor so fast it could've cracked concrete. "Are you out of your freakin' mind?!" he screeched, his voice soaring into Mariah Carey territory. "That's the laser corridor, not a damn trampoline park! One misstep and you're a human s'more—graham crackers not included!"
The mercenaries behind him lost it, their shouts bouncing off the walls like a chaotic pinball machine:
- "What the hell is she doing?!"
- "The upper and lower levels are totally different—she can't just wing it!"
- "That crazy chick thinks she's James Bond or something!"
- "We're toast! If she trips the alarm, the entrance is history, and we're locked out!"
- "She's gonna tank the whole mission!"
The corridor went from silent to a full-on circus of panic—curses flying, eyes bulging, veins popping like they were auditioning for a stress-test commercial. Matthew's nerves were fried. He spun toward Tony, desperation clawing at him like a cat on a curtain. If anyone could stop this trainwreck, it was the overpowered lunatic in the red suit.
"Quick! Stop her!" Matthew yelled, his voice cracking like a teenager's. "She's too reckless! The underground traps aren't like upstairs—speed won't cut it!"
Tony raised an eyebrow, looking like Matthew had just asked him to explain why water's wet. "Stop her? Why? Did I miss the part where this turned into a no-girls-allowed treehouse?"
Matthew blinked, incredulous. "Why?! Because if she doesn't stop, she'll trigger the lasers! I don't care if she fries—I mean, thoughts and prayers—but if she wrecks the entrance, the mission's kaput! The world's screwed! That reckless idiot!"
"Do something!" Matthew flailed, his arms waving like a windmill in a hurricane. "Move!"
Tony just stared back, his face doing this weird half-smirk thing that made Matthew want to punch something. "Hm?" Tony tilted his head, all cryptic and annoying. "You're saying this corridor's a death trap? That she's toast—and she'll take the entrance with her?"
"Yes!" Matthew snapped, missing the smug undertone in Tony's voice. "If that entrance goes down, we're done! She'll be the one who ends the world! Stop her already!"
Tony's grin stretched wider, like a kid who'd just pulled off the best prank ever. He stayed quiet for a beat—long enough to make Matthew's blood pressure spike—then shrugged. "Well, 'ending the world' might be overselling it. Sounds like a Monday for me. But the corridor?" He jerked a thumb over Matthew's shoulder. "She kinda just… breezed through it. Like it was a Sunday stroll."
---
"W-What?" Matthew froze, his brain short-circuiting. He turned slowly, like a rusty robot, his face turning a shade of red that screamed "humiliated tomato." His rant died mid-sentence, leaving him gaping like a fish on a dock.
From behind him, Tony's voice floated over, dripping with glee. "Yep…" he drawled, savoring every second. "Not only did she make it through—she told those lasers to sit down and behave. Permanently. You're welcome."
Matthew whipped around, still processing, only to see Black Widow standing on the other side, brushing off her hands like she'd just finished a light yoga class. She shot Tony a look—half "I told you so," half "don't push it"—and then glanced at Matthew with the faintest smirk.
"So," she said, voice smooth as silk, "who's next?"
Tony chuckled, leaning against the wall like he was watching a sitcom. "See, Matt, this is why I don't sweat the small stuff—like, you know, death traps. She's got this. You, uh… might wanna work on the freakout thing, though. High notes aren't your forte."
Matthew sputtered, caught between rage and embarrassment, while the mercenaries behind him exchanged awkward looks. One muttered, "Well, damn. Guess we're the backup dancers now."
Black Widow didn't wait for the applause—she never did. She just turned and started walking, leaving the team to scramble after her, Matthew still muttering under his breath about "reckless lunatics" and "my poor heart."
Tony clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. "Cheer up, buddy. At least you've got the best seat in the house for the Natasha Show."
