𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 | 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲

𝟎𝟐. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

"𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 going to be fine. We'll be in and out within the hour."

Clint Barton sighed and slouched further in his seat as he recalled the captain's words. Clint had lost track of the time, but he knew that it had surely been over an hour. He pursed his lips, growing engrossed in his own thoughts that just maybe he could liven things up; however, one glare from the redhead beside him was enough to rethink that plan. He straightened his posture, but only briefly so that he could slide down further in his seat as he released an exaggerated groan to emphasize his boredom.

Natasha simply rolled her eyes in reply to the archer's drama before focusing her attention on Steve once more. However, the chills that ran down her spine told her to reevaluate her surroundings. That uncomfortable sense of paranoia had kept her alive this long, so she'd learned to trust it more than anything else.

That was when everything went dark. The entire city block and then some of Times Square experienced the blackout of technology. Surprisingly, the air was quiet for a max of three whole seconds before complaints filled the atmosphere. Although the sun was bright enough to keep the city light enough to see, one would have assumed that the world had entered the dark ages by the overreaction of panic.

The archer and the spy both stood, placing a hand to the commlink following their immediate eye contact with one another.

"Down." It was the only reply necessary to explain that even their advanced tech had been affected in the blackout. Which ultimately meant that the blackout wasn't just caused by a faulty powerline.

"Damn." Clint frowned at the static ringing in his ear and shook his head. "We just can't seem to catch a break."

"You were looking for excitement," the spy replied as a competitive smirk formed on her face. "Lock down the perimeter and meet back here. Ten bucks says I figure out the cause before you do."

"Oh, you are so on," Clint released a haughty laugh and shook on the bargain made.

He quickly folded up his metal chair to move back a row then began to push through the crowd to start his perimeter check.

Most might have looked down on the bet made during the crisis, but Clint had no intentions of losing. He fought his way through the crowd that looked more prepared to watch fireworks on the Fourth of July than sit through a political speech, but the captain's popularity was enough to explain the numbers of the crowd.

He finally made his way to the outskirts of the crowd, but it only took a second more before he determined that he needed a different viewpoint. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he was indeed a bit jealous that Wilson had been elected to serve as their eyes from the sky, so he had the luxury of the view from one of the buildings overlooking the conference.

His eyes scanned over the dozens of heads clumped together before he noticed the lamppost toward the back that could serve as his makeshift perch. He jogged over and began to scale the pole, but stopped and winced as the static from his earpiece interacted with the static from the speaker system.

He released a surprised yelp of pain and lifted a hand to remove the commlink from his ear, but stopped as the piercing static morphed into something that almost sounded like words. Rather than remove the comm, he fiddled with the controls to enhance the sounds hidden in the static. The pace and pitch gradually normalized, growing clear enough that Clint was able to make out the phrase being repeated over and over again.

«Δύναμη μέσα από την ενότητα» The warbled, distorted voice paused and then repeated the phrase. «Δύναμη μέσα από την ενότητα... Δύναμη μέσα από την ενότητα»