ᵒᵒ. ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ.

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PROLOGUE.

THE DISTANT FUTURE: NOVEMBER

THREE MONTHS AHEAD OF THEIR FIRST MEETING.



KATE BISHOP sometimes wondered how she got herself into these kinds of situations. She tried to ignore the intense thumping of her heart in her chest as she stared twelve stories down onto the busy street below. She decided this whole thing was probably Clint's fault.

     Kate's back was bent in a backwards arc, so she hung upside-down in an acrobatic stance, favourite bow in her hands. Wind disrupted her hair from its ponytail and sent it curling below her. She and the team were fighting some C-grade villain with a jetpack, rampaging his way around the city. It was almost surprising the Avengers had been placed on the job, but she supposed he was trying to blow up New York.

     And that left her, one of the best sharpshooters on the team and clearly more agile than Clint, hanging off the side of the building with a single chord and harness to keep her from falling.

     Kate had her bow aimed upwards, an arrow slotted in the rest as she tracked the villain through the sky. The world seemed to fall away around her: she no longer focused on the way her body swayed in the wind or the noises of traffic below, or the harness tugging around her waist; only the familiar and comforting weight of the bow in her hands.

     The arrow flew from the string, through the air. It fell short of the target by several meters, plummeting to the street safely.

     Kate swore to herself. She had to be closer to him to even be within range. Her bow string could only stretch so far. She planted her feet firmly on the glass window and propelled herself forward, trusting the harness and the rest of the team above to arc out over the street below. The wind moved past her face and the string of her bow was stretched taught, anticipating for the arrow to fly.

     Kate released the arrow from the rest, feeling the familiar weight of the drawn string leave her fingers. The arrow pierced through the back of the jetpack and it subsequently exploded, rippling through the air.

     It was then that Kate noticed the momentum still carrying her forward, and quite specifically downwards.

     The breath left her mouth for a second. Okay, this looks bad.

     Whoever had let go or cut her rope was now responsible for her plummeting at something miles per hour towards the street of fleeing cars below her. The wind tugged her hair in a stream and Kate was still gripping at the rope sending her falling towards the ground, legs curled towards her body, like it was some nightmare theme-park ride.

𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒, kate bishop  ¹Where stories live. Discover now