I'm lying to you // Natasha Romanoff x OC Odindottir

Chapter 26 - 'Super-Soldier-Flying-Squirrel'

Hyra's pov

"Sister!" Thor hurls the last of the numerous bots in my direction. My sword flies up instinctively, stabbing it through its metal chest. Lassoing it's neck, I wrench the head from its body, watching how its lights and movement cease immediately. My weapons evaporate instantaneously, leaving the severed head to fall heavily into my empty palm.

"That was dramatic! I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world, but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to...evolve?" Ultron's shrill, mechanical voice echoes around the walls, "With these? These puppets? There's only one path to peace: The Avengers' extinction."

I contort and manipulate the head in my hand into a tight ball, sending it flying into Ultron's torso at the speed of a bullet with only the flick of my wrist. At the same time, Thor hurls Mjolnir plowing into the cavity I had just made. The body limps in a crooked gait, sparks flying and the odd extremity twitching at random.

"I had strings, but now I'm free. There are no strings on me, no strings on me," Ultron croaks out in a haunting, sing-song voice. The body begins to jerkily collapse, its words becoming less and less decipherable as it continues. Until it stop all together, in a heap of scrap not unlike any of the other bots lying around the room.

~~~~~~

Instead of going into the lab - which I overhear to have just been one huge argument over whether Tony is a complete jerk or not - I go and have a shower. Much more peaceful. Despite wanting to indulge in my curiosities surrounding this 'Ultron', the reason I returned still looms: my hunt for Loki. With the sceptre stolen by an escaped bot, there's no telling if I'll be able to confirm Loki's status.

"Knock knock?" a quiet voice asks after three short taps on my door. Maria. I walk over, a small towel still resting around my shoulders to stop the drips of my hair from dampening my fresh clothes. I swing it open, being met by the assessing gaze of senior SHIELD agent, "A shower, really?"

"I could hear you all from here, don't worry," I wave her off, leaning on the doorframe with a neutral expression, "What can I help you with?"

"Either your super-hearing didn't cover it - or you selectively ignored it - but we are about to go through a tonne of paper files on Strucker. We found him dead, involuntarily advertising 'PEACE' next to his bloodied corpse," she fills me in.

"Ultron's doing?" I ask, throwing the towel from my shoulders into the laundry basket. I ghost my hands over my hair, letting my magic twirl it into neat braids.

"Without a doubt, and he erased every online file of Strucker: he wants us to miss something," she explains.

"And I presume you're here to wrangle my hand for help? Typical," I tut jokingly. She simply rolls her eyes, gesturing wordlessly for me to follow her.

Reaching a large room, it looks like a small bomb has hit the filing cabinets. Off-white paper is strewn everywhere in disorderly piles; files of numerous unfamiliar faces are stacked high among the detritus.

"Welcome to the jungle," Maria laughs quietly to me, before we get to work, searching through the reams of papers. It seems like forever (about half an hour) before anyone begins a meaningful conversation.

"Known associates. Well, Strucker had a lot of friends," Rogers lifts up a plain file with a hint of tired success. We all huddle around as Steve opens it, flicking through the pages rather swiftly.