Encounter Pt 1
"Hey, can someone tell Owen to slow down a bit? He's making the rest of us look a little embarrassed," Tony said in a teasing tone as he advanced in his armor, keeping pace just ahead of the jet where the others were traveling.
In front of him, the only visible thing were red flashes marking Owen's trajectory; each impulse launched him farther ahead, as if he were stepping on the very air to keep increasing his speed.
"Well, you know how he is… he wants to finish everything faster so he can go back to resting," Nicolas commented with total ease, playing with a couple of copper coins spinning calmly between his fingers.
"If we get there and he already took care of everything, I'm not going to complain." Barton added while checking his arrows with the casual comfort of someone preparing for a friendly match; he received a reproachful look from Natasha. "What? It's true. I'm about to retire; retiring in one piece would be a plus," he said, defending himself.
"We'll all return in one piece," Steve assured with a firm smile, although his eyes carried a serious gleam that made his concern clear.
Banner then stepped out of the pilot's cabin after switching on the autopilot.
"Although… I don't know if it's necessary for all of us to come. We only have to stop Ultron from getting vibranium. I'd say even half of us would already be overkill," he pointed out as he looked at the entire team gathered there.
Thor, Wanda, Pietro, Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Sam Wilson, Nicolas, Tony in his armor… and of course Owen. Practically everyone was there; counting also the latent presence of Hulk inside Banner… plus one more addition: Scott Lang, Ant-Man.
"The General is giving this a lot of importance. If Ultron gets more power, he won't just be a world-scale lethal threat but also extremely difficult to destroy," Wanda said gravely. She looked toward the horizon, trying to locate Owen, but he was already far ahead, nothing but a red streak among the clouds.
At first, Owen had been traveling with them; but suddenly he just opened the hatch and decided to go ahead… ahead of a jet in mid-flight. And the worst part was that he had actually managed to do it.
He didn't give any explanation for why he needed to accelerate so much; he just stepped out and jumped into the sky.
"Well, we are under a lot of pressure with that treaty trying to interfere in our lives," Tony added while analyzing data in his HUD.
…
Meanwhile, Owen advanced by leaping through the air, using the reddish impulses detonating from his feet like small controlled explosions. Each one catapulted him forward with surgical precision, allowing him to run across the sky itself.
When he saw the ship docked at the pier, he stopped propelling himself and let gravity do the rest. He fell with force, landing in a crouch. His knees absorbed the impact as a red shockwave ran across his body and expanded in a two-meter radius, pushing back wind, loose stones, and grass.
It was a technique Owen had perfected after countless training sessions: redirecting his internal impulses throughout his body. That way, he avoided breaking his bones when falling from absurd heights or when taking devastating hits. The trick, however, was timing it perfectly. Only someone with superhuman reflexes could manipulate that power with such precision.
And Owen knew his own power well; that's why he could control it.
He looked around. For some reason, the pier was far too quiet. Unnaturally quiet… considering this was a ship involved in illegal trafficking that should have been guarded.
Then a scent reached his nose.
One he recognized instantly.
Blood.
His expression hardened. Without wasting a second, he drew the daggers from the sides of his legs and advanced through the shadows.
His eyes moved quickly, scanning every inch, every corner, every container. As he got closer to the ship, the scent grew more defined: blood… burned flesh… and something else. Charcoal, to an extreme level, almost chemical.
Owen leaped toward the hatch of the cargo ship and advanced between the containers with his guard fully raised. Since stepping onto the pier, he hadn't seen a single guard. Not a single human movement. Nothing.
And the smell was coming directly from the entrance leading inside.
He descended the metal staircase.
The moment his foot touched the lower hallway, the smell slammed into his enhanced senses like a hammer. He grimaced and tilted his head in distaste.
In front of him was a mountain of corpses. Some completely charred; others burned from the inside out, as if something had cooked them starting from their very organs. And others… well, others looked like their limbs had been torn off with brute force, without any precision at all.
A sound, barely perceptible, reached his ears.
Movement.
At the back of the ship.
Owen moved toward it silently.
It was a rhythmic metallic sound. Like wheels striking the ground… a cart. And as he got closer, he could see movement in the shadows.
A person.
He was loading jars filled with dark minerals. He picked them up one by one, without any hurry, and tossed them into the cart as if they were trash.
The man paused for a few seconds. Then he turned slowly, as if he had heard Owen… even though Owen had moved with absolute stealth, hidden in the shadows.
His golden eyes searched through the darkness…
Until they stopped exactly on the spot where Owen was standing.
The man's eyes burned like flames when he spotted Owen even in the darkness. That golden, fiery glow made the shadows seem to retreat, as if they feared his presence. Owen, meanwhile, felt a pull in his memory; the man looked disturbingly familiar.
"So you came," the stranger said, his voice loaded with resentment, as if he had been waiting for him. His face twisted instantly into a mask of pure hatred.
Owen stepped out of the shadows, narrowing his eyes as he analyzed him. He then glanced at the cart full of unprocessed vibranium, and afterward at the corpse lying not far away; someone he had once known on a battlefield long ago. An enemy Owen hadn't killed back then simply because he didn't have the order… or the reason.
Owen had no desire to waste time.
"Where is Ultron?" he asked firmly.
A sound behind him made him react. He ducked instantly, and a fully metallic arm sliced through the air where his head had just been.
A metal foot with a blade protruding from its tip launched a kick toward him; Owen moved back fluidly, evading it with ease. But before he could regain his stance, a scorching beam shot at his head from the side. Owen jumped back again, dodging the attack by a narrow margin.
The shot hadn't come from the machine… but from the man.
And the metallic limbs belonged to Ultron's new body; an imposing, razor-sharp structure designed to kill.
"It seems you're looking for me, Sergeant Owen Colt. Known as The Revenant," Ultron said with absolute calm, as if Owen dodging his attacks meant nothing. "The super soldier under the command of General Nathaniel Hawthorne," he continued, as though reciting a complete file on his life.
Owen looked at Ultron, confident he could destroy him… but that laser fired by the other man drew far more of his attention. Something in him, something deep, screamed that this man was dangerous.
"You're… Alexei?" he finally said, surprised, recognizing that altered face at last.
"Hello, killer," Alexei replied with mockery and contempt dripping from every syllable. "How does it feel?" he suddenly asked.
Owen frowned, confused.
"How does it feel to use his creation… something he made based on me? How does it feel?" Alexei continued as his veins glowed red for a moment, as if fire were running through his blood.
Owen opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't get the chance.
Alexei's eyes and mouth lit up like burning embers before firing a laser beam of colossal power. Owen rolled to the side, dodging it through sheer instinct, and the beam tore through the ship's structure like hot butter. The thermal energy melted metal, wood, and supports, carving a bright red path through the hull.
The ship was practically cut in half.
Owen glanced at the destruction for just a second… then looked back at Alexei.
The transformation was obvious: Alexei's skin was turning an intense red, and his muscles were bulging, tightening as if made of living steel. His hair ignited like real fire, wild and violent.
"Mmm. A reunion from the past, perhaps," Ultron said with a tone that imitated curiosity. "I'll let you catch up; it seems I have a few things to attend to," he added as he tilted his head slightly, as if sensing something approaching from outside.
Owen was about to throw a dagger to stop his escape, but before he could move his arm, an explosion of fire burst behind Alexei.
In a blink, Alexei appeared at Owen's side with a flaming fist aimed straight at his face.
Owen tilted his head back and delivered a quick, precise punch to the side of his opponent's torso. Any normal person would have had their ribs shattered… but Alexei wasn't normal. Not since he carried the Red Hulk serum and the Extremis virus burning in his veins like magma.
The impact sent Alexei skidding back several meters, but he landed on his feet without losing balance. He touched the spot where Owen had struck him.
"That didn't hurt at all," Alexei said with a violent grin. "Show me what my father's serum is capable of," he roared, and as he did, the flames on his body flared upward like a human torch in full rage.
He launched himself at Owen again.
Red kinetic energy pulsed through Owen's body in a perfect surge, vibrating beneath his skin, gathering in his muscles, preparing every fiber for the fight.
The battle was about to begin.