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Chapter 29 – Who's The Real Monster?
Salvage Yard, African Coast
"Well, this is cosy," Ophelia muttered under her breath, crouched on a metal beam high on the abandoned ship's catwalk and adjusting the gold and black mask on her face as sweat dripped down her forehead.
The smell of rust permeated the air as she looked down at her targets. One obnoxiously tall vibranium robot who looked a little too much like the Terminator. One silver-haired speedster with a permanent mocking smirk on his face.
And Wanda.
With her hair pulled up into a high ponytail and dark eyeshadow dusted on her eyelids, the enhanced girl looked...dangerous. Enough to make Ophelia's breath hitch, and not in a fearful way.
"Focus, Lia." Steve huffed into his comms quietly, somehow knowing instinctively that his young charge was getting distracted again.
"I don't know what you're talking about gramps." She sniffed haughtily before refocusing on her objective, but not before giving one last lingering look at the Sokovian witch.
"Don't compare me with Stark! It's a thing with me. Stark is, he's a sickness!" Ultron suddenly barked, his voice tinged with disgust and irrational anger as he kicked one Ulysses Klaue down a flight of stairs.
"Yikes, and I thought I had daddy issues." She chuckled to herself, looking down to see Nat and Clint creeping up to the deranged robot behind walls as Thor, Steve and Tony took centre stage.
"Ahh, Junior." Tony drawled, landing between Thor and Steve. "You're gonna break your old man's heart."
"If I have to," Ultron answered stroppily, rather like a child that had been put on time out.
"We don't have to break anything." Thor tried to mediate, taking the rare peacekeeping role when normally the Asgardian would take bets on who could defeat more enemies.
"Clearly you've never made an omelette." Ultron quipped; his words disturbingly familiar to the rest of the team. Ophelia narrowed her eyes at the murder bot with renewed interest; wondering how much of Tony did Ultron inherit in the first place?
"He beat me by one second." Tony dryly reassured, confirming the similarities between the two.
"Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark. It's what, comfortable? Like old times?" Pietro accused, a faux casual tone to his voice that masked a well of hatred aimed at one Tony Stark. The speedster gestured down to the weaponry stored below, with nukes and missiles stacked on top of each other with careless abandon. Missiles that echoed the very same ones that callously murdered the twins' parents. The only thing missing was a Stark logo.
Ophelia couldn't help but feel sympathy for the Maximoff's. Whether it was because of her weird connection to Wanda or understanding their need for vengeance, the brawler didn't think there was anything inherently evil about the two. Broken certainly, misguided for sure. But not evil.
