"There it is! We're here." Leon's voice pulled Natasha out of her thoughts.
Her gaze shifted, and she saw countless clouds and mist rushing past them.
At night, dark clouds layered upon one another, shrouding everything around them in a thick veil of shadows. Natasha looked around, but all she could see was an endless expanse of black clouds.
Leon moved too fast. His movements were so subtle that it seemed as if he had blended into the storm itself.
Then, suddenly, the clouds thinned.
Natasha had a premonition and focused intently.
First, she saw a steel runway several hundred meters long, tearing through the sea of clouds.
Then, a massive structure connected to the runway emerged.
The dark clouds were suddenly illuminated.
It was a fortress in the sky.
A towering aircraft carrier, designed like a vertical spire, with three stacked levels. Each floor had four fighter jet landing runways, making a total of twelve.
The fortress's lights shone brightly, piercing through the surrounding clouds like a hidden pearl forgotten by the world.
"So this is the Red Room. It's really here," Natasha murmured, the bright light reflecting in her eyes.
Leon stopped midair and examined the structure. "Impressive. But its anti-gravity system is just... massive fans?"
"This weird mix of primitive and futuristic design... The engineer must be a genius." He scoffed. "And an airborne fortress without an energy defense system? It's practically a sitting duck."
Natasha smirked. "Tony would probably love this thing. Steel, flashy design... It's exactly his style."
Leon shook his head. "Of course. Which is why I need to adjust my approach."
He ascended slightly, taking in the full scale of the fortress. "I can't destroy this thing. After some upgrades, it'll make a great birthday gift for Tony's 40th."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Your birthday gifts are next-level."
Leon activated his X-ray vision to scan the fortress. "Not always. But he gave me a spaceship for my eighteenth birthday. I can't exactly show up with a gift card."
Natasha leaned back slightly, as if an invisible mountain of dollar bills had just hit her.
"You guys... really are something else."
Other rich kids gave away luxury cars and yachts.
These two? A flying fortress and a spaceship. At this rate, they were going to colonize the galaxy.
"Alright, I'm set." Leon memorized the enemy positions.
He descended with Natasha, landing soundlessly on the top runway, as light as a falling raindrop.
"Take these and follow me." Leon handed Natasha a box containing the inhibitors. "I'll knock everyone out. Use the inhibitors where appropriate. If not... just use a knife. Any issues?"
Natasha shook her head. "No."
She knew her role. She was just backup, support. Nothing more.
"Good. I'll meet you in the central control room."
Leon lifted off, the neon runway lights casting a red glow over his figure as he soared higher.
An alarm blared through the fortress.
Soldiers on deck scrambled to respond, weapons ready.
Natasha scanned for an opening to assist Leon—but he moved first.
A sudden blur. Natasha's vision distorted as if the air itself rippled.
She blinked.
The red crosshairs aimed at Leon—gone.
Leon still hovered in place, but the enemy targeting him had vanished.
"I'll head inside first. Don't keep me waiting too long." Leon waved, then shot forward like an arrow.
Natasha barely had time to register what happened before she heard bodies hitting the ground in rapid succession.
She turned her head.
The entrance deck was littered with unconscious soldiers.
"Oh my God..."
That blur just now?
It was Leon, moving at super-speed. In the blink of an eye, he had taken down dozens of enemies and left them at her feet.
"This is Superman... It's unbelievable."
She didn't waste time. If she wasn't needed in combat, her job was simple—administer the inhibitors to every Widow she found.
The rest? A single bullet to the head.
Natasha understood one thing.
In the twisted organization that was the Red Room, there were only two types of people: the controllers and the controlled.
Anyone who wasn't a Widow? They were part of the system of oppression. None of them deserved mercy.
Once she finished administering the inhibitors, Natasha rushed into the fortress, following Leon's path.
Inside, the Red Room fortress felt eerily familiar.
It was like home. She knew every corridor, every doorway.
But this time, the halls were lined with unconscious bodies.
Each fallen enemy had a peaceful expression, untouched by violence. They lay as if they had merely drifted into a deep sleep.
She could picture how effortlessly Leon had stormed this heavily fortified base.
Without hesitation, she continued finishing off the remaining enemies while administering inhibitors to the Widows, quickly closing the gap to the command center.
But there were too many bodies.
Despite her efficiency, it took nearly ten minutes before she reached the command room.
Before she even entered, she heard a voice she knew well.
"I apologize, honorable Superman! Please forgive my overreach! I swear, I had no idea about your relationship with Tony Stark!" Dreykov's voice.
"Spare me the excuses." Leon's tone was cold. "You spent minutes preaching about controlling the world through the Widows and creating peace through subjugation. Now you're begging?"
Dreykov sputtered. "W-What do you want me to say?! I can say anything! We could talk about Gorbachev's embarrassing moments if you'd like!"
Leon chuckled darkly. "Nah. You can tell God whatever you want. You know who I am, and you think you're leaving here alive?"
Silence.
Then, a sharp, manic laugh.
"...Hehehe, Superman, you've been fooled!"
Dreykov's voice turned triumphant. "Why do you think I've been stalling? The pheromones I secrete prevent anyone exposed to them from attacking me!"
"You've inhaled too much by now. Go ahead, try to attack me again!"
Natasha pushed the door open.
Inside, she saw him.
Her old handler. General Dreykov. Short, pudgy, dressed in a crisp suit, his hair neatly combed, black-framed glasses perched on his nose.
He lounged behind his desk, grinning mockingly at Leon, lips curled in smug amusement.
…
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