The room stank of blood, sweat, and the metallic scent of burnt flesh. The screams of the fallen architects of the Red Room reverberated through the steel walls, their agony filling the air like a symphony of suffering.
Melina was having a blast, torturing them, just like they tortured countless others.
Dreykov's once-proud form was barely recognizable. His face was swollen and disfigured, one eye nearly shut from bruising. Blood dripped from where his ears used to be, and jagged wounds were left behind from Melina's blade. His fingers were gone, severed one by one. His toenails had been ripped out, leaving raw, exposed nerves throbbing in unbearable agony. His legs were shattered... knees and ankles smashed beyond repair, twisted at unnatural angles.
He had stopped screaming at some point. His body convulsed, reduced to shuddering gasps and strangled moans, his mind teetering on the edge of madness.
Tony sat nearby, watching with a detached expression. His fingers moved subtly, manipulating the nanites within Dreykov's system, amplifying his pain receptors beyond human limits. Every pulse of agony was magnified, turned into an all-consuming inferno of suffering.
The others hadn't been spared either.
Madame B, the cold overseer, had lost both arms, her limbs dangling uselessly as blood poured from the gaping wounds. Her once-stoic expression had cracked, her eyes hollow from pain and exhaustion. She will die in a few minutes...
Then there were those unlucky surviving agents who by mistake came inside that room... They were guarding the hanger bay. Well, Milena did a number on them... broken ribs, shattered jaws, limbs twisted and rendered useless. Some had already passed out, their minds unable to withstand the torment.
Tony took a deep breath, stretching his arms. "Man, I gotta say, you've got a real talent for this." He smirked, glancing at Melina, who was kneeling beside Dreykov with a blade in hand, twirling it absentmindedly. "Ever thought about switching careers? Maybe open a clinic? Call it Melina's Pain and Suffering Spa?"
Melina didn't respond. She was too focused on her work.
Dreykov trembled, his remaining eye rolling wildly in its socket. His lips moved, but no words came out.
Tony leaned in, his voice casual. "Come on, buddy. You've held out longer than most, I'll give you that. But you and I both know the pain isn't gonna stop. Not until you give me what I want."
Dreykov let out a strangled sob, his breath hitching. "S… stop…" His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.
Tony smiled. "Oh? Ready to talk?"
Dreykov's lips trembled. "I—I'll tell you…"
Melina grabbed his shattered hand and squeezed. Dreykov let out a horrific wail as fresh pain lanced through his ruined nerves.
"Talk fast," Melina said coldly.
Dreykov gasped, barely clinging to consciousness. "We… we recovered something… an AI… from a Hydra bunker beneath the Arctic Ocean…" His breaths were ragged. "Ancient… but somehow powerful enough to enter our modern network. We have completely isolated it from the network system."
Tony's eyes sharpened. "Hydra AI? You mean Zola."
Dreykov gave a weak nod, his head lolling to the side. "Zola AI. That's what it said. Madame Hydra's eyes… they were the key… to accessing the bunker…" He coughed violently, blood splattering onto the floor. "The AI… it's here… inside the safe… beyond that door…" He gestured weakly with the stump where his fingers used to be.
Tony finally found that fucker. Arnim Zola, Hydra's lead scientist.
If that AI had fallen into Hydra's hands, it would have been catastrophic.
'Tsk. A hidden wall safe right before my eyes and I couldn't even see it with my upgraded scanners, interesting,' He wondered.
Tony stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Well, that's all I needed to hear." He turned to Melina. "Dreykov's all yours. Do whatever you want."
Melina didn't hesitate.
She grabbed Dreykov by the throat, dragging him toward the steel table. His mangled body barely put up resistance. He whimpered.
Tony didn't bother to watch. He had more important things to do. He let out a low whistle as his palm pressed against the smooth, cool surface of the vibranium wall. "Well, well… someone went all out," he muttered. 'No wonder, my scanners failed to detect anything. I guess, Nat also carries vibranium suits, that would explain why I couldn't detect her in that Hydra base. Well...'
His fingers twitched, sending a pulse through his suit. The remaining nanites surged forward, spreading over the surface like liquid mercury.
"Legion, let's try that beta replication feature. Begin protocol RN."
The microscopic machines began to dismantle the vibranium at the molecular level, breaking it down and converting it into more nanites. His Arc Reactor pulsed, feeding them enough energy to keep up the process without burning out.
Legion answered in his earpiece. "Nanite replication is at 67%. Estimated breach time: two minutes. Everything is stable."
Tony leaned back, watching the metal slowly disintegrate. "Gotta love self-replicating tech."
As the nanites worked, he spared a glance over his shoulder. Dreykov's screams had turned guttural, raw. Melina was efficient, methodical, and enjoying herself. Tony had no sympathy to spare. The bastard deserved worse.
A dull clang echoed as the last layer of vibranium crumbled. Tony stepped forward, entering the hidden chamber beyond.
The air was stale, thick with dust and time. Flickering overhead lights cast eerie shadows over the cold, metallic room.
'They pulled out the entire room and placed it here. These numbskulls kept a ticking timebomb here...'
At the center stood an old computer terminal, ancient by modern standards—thick monitor, rusted keyboard, blinking green text on a dark screen. Nearby, a robotic frame stood slumped against the wall. It was humanoid in shape, its joints stiff, its plating dull with age.
Tony stepped toward the terminal, brushing off a layer of grime. The text flickered.
Authorization Required.
A distorted voice crackled from an unseen speaker. "Who—who are you?" The voice was warbled, robotic, confused.
Tony smirked. "Guess you never got the Hydra update memo, huh?" His fingers flew over the keyboard. He didn't need to brute-force his way in since Zola was old, his programming rigid, and predictable.
"Outdated encryption detected. Weak firewall. Rewriting core pathways now."
Lines of code flashed. Tony inserted a new command, overriding Zola's base functions. The AI stuttered.
Error. Unauthorized access.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up," Tony muttered. His hands moved with precision, bypassing the last security layer.
Deleting core processes…
The screen flashed red. The robotic frame twitched violently, then fell still.
Zola's voice stammered, his once-calculating tone now panicked. "No—NO! YOU CAN NOT—"
Tony exhaled, stepping back. "And that's how you delete a Nazi in under thirty seconds."
The terminal shut down completely. The old robot remained lifeless. Zola was gone. For good.
Tony dusted off his hands and stepped out of the hidden chamber, rolling his shoulders as his nanites dissolved the last traces of Dreykov's vault door. He absorbed them back and his suit was back at near full capacity. He glanced at Melina, who was finishing her work.
His body lay twisted and mutilated, a lifeless husk on the cold steel floor. His mouth was still frozen in a scream, but no sound would ever come from it again.
Madame B was slumped against the far wall, her once-imposing form reduced to a bloodied, broken shell. Her eyes, which had always been cold and calculating, were now vacant.
Melina stood over them, breathing heavily. Blood stained her gloves, but her expression was unreadable.
Tony gave her a nod. "Feeling better?"
Melina wiped her hands on her tattered suit, exhaling. "Not yet."
Tony smirked. "Give it a minute."
A groan caught their attention.
She was stirring, her body twitching as she slowly regained consciousness. Tony checked his HUD—his nanites had finished purging the neurochemical conditioning from her system. She was free.
Yelena sat up, blinking in confusion. Her green eyes darted around the room, taking in the carnage. Then, she saw Melina.
"Wh-what happened?" she muttered, clutching her head. "Where… where am I?"
Melina crouched beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're safe now, Yelena. The Red Room is gone. It's over."
Yelena's breathing hitched as she processed the words. "Gone?" She shook her head, disoriented. "That's… that's not possible."
Tony knelt down, tapping his wrist. A tiny holographic display flickered to life, revealing a detailed scan of the Red Room's infrastructure. Every facility. Every base. All marked TERMINATED.
"Believe it," Tony said. "Dreykov is dead. The Widows are free."
Yelena stared at the hologram, her lips parting slightly. "I…" Her hands trembled as she looked at Melina. "Is it real?"
Melina gave her a small, genuine smile. "Yes, my child. You're free."
For a long moment, Yelena didn't speak. Then, suddenly, she let out a breathless laugh—part relief, part disbelief.
She covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking. "We… we did it?"
Tony stood up, stretching his arms. "Well, I did most of the work, but sure, let's go with 'we.'"
Yelena glanced up at him, arching an eyebrow. "Who the hell are you?"
Tony smirked. "The guy who just saved your ass."
Before Yelena could respond, Tony tapped his wrist again, opening a secure line.
"Let's give your sister the good news."
The holographic feed shifted, dialing a direct comms link. After a few seconds, Natasha's face appeared on the screen.
Her eyes immediately narrowed. "Stark. What happened?"
Tony grinned. "Hey, Romanoff. Miss me?"
Natasha crossed her arms. "Not in the slightest."
"Cold as ever," Tony muttered. "Anyway, I figured I'd call with some good news. The Red Room? Gone. Dreykov? Extra crispy. Your sister? Alive and well."
Natasha's expression faltered. "Yelena?"
Yelena leaned into the frame. "Nat?"
The moment their eyes met, Natasha's breath hitched. For the first time, her usually guarded expression cracked.
"Yelena," she whispered.
Yelena smiled faintly. "Hey, sis."
Tony stepped back, letting them have their moment. Melina watched silently, her own expression softening as she saw the reunion.
Natasha took a deep breath, regaining her composure. "Are you okay?"
Yelena nodded. "I think so." She glanced around at the destroyed room. "A little sore. Also, I think Stark's an asshole."
Tony scoffed. "You'd get along great with your sister."
Natasha exhaled, shaking her head. "I can't believe it's over."
"It is," Melina confirmed. "No more Red Room. No more Widows under their control. They're free to make their own choices now."
Natasha's eyes softened. "Thank you, Melina. And you too, Stark."
Tony smirked. "Oh, now I get a 'thank you'? That's progress. Well, I hope you remember your promise."
Natasha ignored him. "What happens now?"
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[Read 14 advance chapters] [No double billing]
AN: Vol-2 will be released starting Sunday night. See ya.