"Surrender. You're out of options."
Jessica hovered a few feet off the ground, looking down at Natasha Romanoff. The spy was backed into a corner of the safehouse, her dual Glocks clicking empty on the floor. Her mask had been torn off in the scuffle, revealing a face flushed with exertion and frustration.
Jessica crossed her arms, trying to look imposing, but internally, she was fighting a pang of jealousy.
"Damn it," Jessica thought, eyeing the spy. "She's shorter than me, sure. But look at her. Even covered in dust, she's stunning. No wonder Rosen took an interest."
She didn't buy Rosen's "I just want her skills" speech for a second. Men were men, even if they were dimension-hopping wizards.
"Who exactly are you people?" Natasha spat, wiping a trickle of blood from her lip. She wasn't ready to fold.
Because S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn't cleared this operation with the Hungarian government, Jessica wasn't wearing her high-profile Homelander suit. Instead, she was decked out in standard-issue S.H.I.E.L.D. tactical gear. Natasha had no idea she was facing the flying tank who had been dominating the New York news cycle.
"We're S.H.I.E.L.D.," Clint Barton said, stepping out from the shadows with his bow drawn. The tip of a taser arrow was aimed squarely at Natasha's chest. "Surrender, tell us who you work for, and we might consider letting you walk away with your knees intact."
Natasha's eyes darted between the flying woman and the archer. She ran the calculations. Zero exits. Zero ammo.
"Fine," she exhaled, raising her hands slowly. "I hope you keep your word."
But just as Barton lowered his bow slightly, the air in the room changed. A low, vibrating hum filled the space, growing louder by the second. It sounded like a thousand wings beating against the stagnant air.
SCREEEEEEE!
A massive, swirling cloud of darkness erupted from the hallway. It wasn't smoke. It was bats.
Hundreds of them.
They poured into the room like a living oil slick, engulfing Barton and Jessica in a chaotic storm of fur and teeth. Barton shouted as the creatures swarmed him, their claws snagging his uniform, their wings blinding him.
Jessica, however, just stood there. The bats swirled around her, obscuring her vision, but not a single one touched her. It was as if she were in the eye of a hurricane.
When the swarm finally dispersed, fleeing out the shattered windows into the Budapest night, the room was empty.
Natasha was gone.
"Damn it!" Barton coughed, swatting away a straggler. "What the hell was that?"
He looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a blender. His tactical suit was shredded, and his exposed skin was a map of shallow, bleeding bite marks. He was breathing hard, checking his eyes for damage.
"Are you okay?" Jessica asked, looking pristine. Not a hair was out of place.
"I'll live," Barton grunted, looking at her with a mix of envy and confusion. "How did you... never mind. You're invulnerable. Right. Bats can't bite steel."
He didn't realize the bats hadn't even tried to bite her.
"Those weren't natural," Jessica said, her voice grim. "Someone was controlling them. I just don't know if it was her backup or a third party."
She knew exactly who it was. She just hadn't expected Rosen to be able to summon a literal plague of bats. And judging by Barton's condition, Rosen had held back. If he'd wanted the archer dead, those bats would have stripped him to the bone.
"Controlled?" Barton's face paled. "This complicates things. The target has enhanced backup. We need to report this."
"Agreed," Jessica nodded. "But first, you need medical. Bats carry rabies, Barton. And those didn't look like the vegetarian kind."
Barton froze. He was an elite agent who would take a bullet for the mission, but the idea of dying from a bat-borne virus was less heroic.
"Right," he said, slinging his bow. "Good call. Let's move."
The Safehouse
Natasha reappeared in a dusty, abandoned apartment three blocks away. She stumbled, clutching her side, and looked around in confusion.
She knew this place. It was one of her old safehouses—a burn-site she hadn't used in two years.
Standing in the center of the room was a figure. He was wrapped in heavy, dark armor and a hooded robe, his face completely hidden behind a mask.
"Who are you?" Natasha demanded, her voice tight with pain and adrenaline. "Why did you save me?"
"Who I am isn't important," the figure said, his voice distorted by a magical filter. "What's important is that I can help you."
It was Rosen, of course.
He had been tracking them since Jessica landed in Budapest. The mechanical frog in Jessica's pocket gave him a front-row seat to the ambush. When the moment was right, he had triggered Carrion Swarm (Level 2).
In Warcraft, the Dreadlord's ability summoned a wave of carrion insects and bats to tear through enemies. In reality, Rosen could customize the swarm. He chose bats because they were chaotic, terrifying, and effective at creating cover. And yes, he could have killed Barton instantly, but killing a future Avenger wasn't part of the plan.
"Help me?" Natasha scoffed, leaning against a rotting table for support. "Let me guess. You want to use me. Just like the Red Room. Just like everyone else."
She tried to straighten up, but a sharp pain in her ribs made her gasp. Jessica hadn't broken any bones, but the bruises were deep.
"You're hurt," Rosen observed, ignoring her cynicism.
He reached into his robes and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a glowing, vibrant green liquid. It radiated a soft light that illuminated the dust motes in the air.
"Drink this," Rosen said, tossing the vial to her. "It'll help."
Natasha caught it, her reflexes still sharp despite the pain. She looked at the glowing liquid suspiciously.
"What is it? Poison? Serum?"
"It's a Life Potion," Rosen said simply. "It heals. No strings attached. Just drink it before you pass out."
Natasha hesitated. She looked at the masked man, then at the potion. She had no weapon, no backup, and her body was screaming in protest. If he wanted her dead, he could have just let S.H.I.E.L.D. take her.
She uncorked the vial and downed it in one gulp.