[ 𝟐 ] 𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 | 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟

𝟎𝟏.

[ FIRST PERSON POV ]

[ TW: GUN VIOLENCE ]

[ THE FOLLOWING MORNING ]

"Does the name Claus Sieger ring a bell to you?" Natasha inquired as we hastily descended the stairs, with Wanda closely trailing behind. "He's the man who popped up on our radar last night. Unfortunately, his file has been practically wiped clean; it seems HYDRA has quite the guilty conscience regarding him." Natasha casually brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and rolled her eyes. "Fortunately, we have someone here who might be able to provide the crucial information we need. You, Stella." She pointed at me. "What do you know?"

"The name sounds familiar, but I can't recall anything off the top of my head," I sighed, my stomach churning. Upon reaching the last step, I came to a stop. Hearing me halt, Natasha stopped near the door and turned toward me. Wanda stood on the step with me, leaning on the railing. "Nat, if this man is connected to my parents' deaths, I want you to know that I've exerted all my strength to bury that memory. I don't want it haunting my mind again."

"I understand, Stell," Natasha frowned. "But if this man did kill your parents, we need to locate him as quickly as possible. He could pose a threat to other young boys and girls."

"I just don't know if I can retrieve that memory as easily as you might think. It's buried deep inside my head, and I'm certain it's significantly distorted."

"I could assist," Wanda spoke softly. "I'm not sure if it's right for me to do so. The last time I delved into everyone's minds, I brought unnecessary suffering into your lives. Although we haven't spent much time together, I'm starting to value our friendship. I don't want to jeopardize it."

Natasha and Wanda both looked at me, anticipating a response. I was reluctant to revisit that memory, but Natasha had a point. If Sieger's crimes were ongoing, more families could be affected. If not, ensuring my parents' killer faced justice would bring me some closure. "Wanda, I think that's a great idea. If this is what we need to do to access that memory, then I trust you." I nodded at the two women, who both offered sympathetic smiles. "When you manipulated my mind the first time, the memory seemed spliced. Some pieces were missing or altered slightly. Can you access those as well?"

"Now that I have ample time to concentrate, yes, I should be able to."

"Well," I took a deep breath. "Let's see if this works."

Wanda moved closer, her hands hovering a few inches from my forehead. The usual red energy surrounded her hands, but this time it made contact with the entirety of my forehead and temples. Before I knew it, the world before me was slowly fading away.

A flood of memories rushed back into my head. I witnessed myself confined in a dark room with no windows and minimal furniture. The dim lighting emanated from the television—the only other presence aside from me. The television broadcasted a German news channel my father habitually watched after returning home. Suddenly, the news report was interrupted by a live stream. The live stream displayed an empty room. Abruptly, as if the individuals managing the live stream were aware of my watchful gaze, my father and mother were pulled inside by ropes. I saw Claus Sieger standing alongside my parents, his gun in hand. He was a slender man with a slight hunch in his back, concealing his towering height. He appeared perpetually weary, yet his expression always carried a trace of sinister amusement. He embodied the archetypal storybook villain, yet this story's conclusion was far from cheerful.

As the live stream persisted, my despair deepened. My parents were dehumanized and treated as mere objects. Sieger subjected them to torture—tightening their restraints, threatening to shoot them, and ruthlessly assaulting my father when he resisted divulging information about his business. While everyone was aware of the success of his enterprise, its concealed secrets remained unknown to all, including me. My father continued to sob, repeatedly asking about my whereabouts; each query met with more beatings. Desperate to communicate and prevent further harm, I tried to tell him where I was, but the distance was impossible. They couldn't hear me, and I couldn't rescue them. My mother and father persisted in sobbing and pleading with Sieger. "Please stop crying. They're going to hurt you," I silently implored. Almost as if on cue, Sieger raised his gun and fired at them both. Their bodies slumped, their cries reduced to a haunting echo. They were gone. And I was powerless.

I lost control. I launched myself at the door, attempting to kick its hinges off to reach any HYDRA operative within my grasp. I screamed and cried, cursing in every language I knew. Abandoning the door, I seized the television, smashing it onto the ground. I stomped relentlessly until the screen was obliterated. When nothing else remained to destroy, I unleashed a primal scream. The force of my scream was so intense that the room quivered violently, but I was detached.

A group of HYDRA operatives stormed into the room, pinning me against the wall in front of Normand Haas, one of my physicians. Haas forcefully inserted a needle into my arm, injecting a liquid into my veins. "Their demise will constantly remind you of your purpose here," he murmured. "You belong with us. They mean nothing to you now. Direct all your focus to your duties here. Comply, and you shall be rewarded."

Before I could utter a word, the effects of the injection took hold. My strength waned, collapsing to my knees despite my desire to resist. As I closed my eyes, my doctor uttered a phrase, a term that never failed to induce nausea. "Hail HYDRA."

⋯

I opened my eyes, finding myself back in New York. However, the haunting memory I had just witnessed continued to torment my thoughts. Tears streamed down my face, hot and wet. Glancing at Wanda, I saw she was as traumatized as I felt. It dawned on me that she, too, had witnessed the images from my mind. Without hesitation, she hugged me tight, allowing me to cry into her shoulder while gently rubbing my back. I wept incessantly until my sorrow transformed into a different emotion—a newfound resolve. Breaking away from the embrace, I turned to Nat, who appeared concerned and determined to gather more information about the suspect. As I faced her, my troubled expression shifted to one of vengeance. Heat surged through my body, and my tears practically evaporated from my face. With unwavering confidence, I uttered a single sentence.

"Claus Sieger will regret every breath he's ever taken."

this update is in honor of stan lee.

stan, thank you. i owe you so much. all marvel movies and characters have taught me many great lessons—how to love even when the world is falling apart, bring humor into the worst of situations, and find confidence within myself. even though he's gone, his legacy will continue forever in our hearts. he and his iconic cameos will certainly never be forgotten.

rest in peace. excelsior!