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  As the chaos unfolded on the racetrack, six figures remained seated in the luxury viewing area, a bubble of calm amid the panicked crowd. Nero leaned back casually, resting his on one hand, his sharp eyes fixed oion below. o him, Maria sat with her arms crossed, her posture rexed but attentive. Anthony and Sofia, seated a row ahead, were unbothered, sharing a bag of pop between them as if they were watg a summer blockbuster instead of a battle that had everyone else scrambling for safety.

  Diego watched the spectacle with a faint smirk, occasionally tossing g the terrified onlookers pushing their way toward the exits. "Think Stark’s gonna pull this one off, or is this guy gonna make Monaco his retirement party?" he quipped, popping a piece of pop into his mouth.

  Anthony shrugged, not taking his eyes off the fight. “Odds aren’t bad. Stark’s suit looks like it’s limping, though.” He gestured with his toward the racetrack, where sparks erupted as Tony deflected another whip strike. “I’ll give him… five more minutes before he figures out some half-assed solution to win."

  Nero, as always, took his time, his expressioral as he watched Tony rip the reactor from Vanko’s suit in a reckless lunge. Sparks exploded, the faint echo of the shockwave even reag their high vantage point. He finally sat up straight, brushing an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve.

  “Maria, Diego,” Nero said, his voice cutting through the faint din of distant sirens. “Go bail Ivan out.”

  Diego grinned, already standing and stretg zily. “What’s the py? Snatch him ht, or wait for the dust to settle?”

  “Quickly,” Nero replied, his tone firm. “Subtle’s not required, but don’t make a mess. Bme Hammer for it.”

  Maria stood, stretg her arms as if she were about to take a casual stroll. Diego’s grin widened, his movements deliberate as he adjusted his bzer and stepped closer to the baly railing.

  “Subtle’s overrated anyway,” Diego said, brushing ent lint from his sleeve. He turo Maria. “Ladies first?”

  “Keep up,” Maria replied, already stepping over the railing. She dropped lightly onto the lower terrace, her figure disappearing into the chaos below. Diego followed, his dest less about speed and more about fir, nding with an unnecessary flourish before straightening his pel.

  Nero watched the wreckage below. Stark’s damaged suit glinted uhe harsh sunlight as he struggled to move toward the exit, the remains of Vanko’s exosuit still sparking faintly orack. Security swarmed the area, but it was clear they had no idea what to do with the wreckage—or with Stark, who seemed seds away from colpsing.

  Maria reached the edge of the chaos first, the panicked crowd surging around her like water against a stone. Her movements were effortless, the subtle shimmer of her illusionary abilities bending perception just enough that people instinctively moved aside without realizing why. Diego followed close behind.

  “We’re close,” Maria said, her voice barely audible amidst the cacophony. She sidestepped a pair of fleeing race officials, her gaze locked on the sm remnants of the fight ahead.

  Diego let out a low whistle as he surveyed the se. “Stark really knows how to make an impression. It’s almost artistic.”

  The two of them slipped past the st line of security personnel, unnoticed thanks to Maria’s carefully pced illusions. They approached Vanko’s colpsed form, the crude exosuit sparking itently. The faint glow of his arc reactor cast jagged shadows across the cracked pavement.

  Diego crouched beside Vanko, tilting his head as he studied the man’s battered dition. “You think he’s still funal?”

  “Funal enough,” Maria replied curtly. She pced a hand on Vanko’s shoulder, her voice low. “ you move?”

  Vanko’s eyes flicked open, bloodshot and filled with fury. He rasped something in Russian, his voice barely audible over the chaos. Diego leaned in, smirking. “I don’t think that was a ‘thank you.’”

  Maria ighe remark. “We’re getting you out of here. Don’t resist, or this gets a lot harder.”

  Vanko’s gaze shifted betweewo of them, his breath bored. He grunted, his head lolling slightly to the side. Maria took that as assent. She gestured sharply to Diego. “Grab his arm.”

  Diego sighed theatrically but plied, hoisting Vanko up with surprising ease. “You really should’ve stretched before y show,” he muttered, steadying the man as they began to move.

  Diego shifted Vanko's weight slightly, the man leaning heavily against him as they moved toward an unmarked car parked in the shadow of a colpsed barrier. “So,” he said, gng at Maria, “how exactly are we pinning this on Hammer? Not that I’m against throwing him uhe bus, but details help.”

  Maria smirked faintly, her voice low but clear as she walked ahead. “People will see what I want them to see.”

  Diego raised an eyebrow. “Care to eborate, or are we just improvising?”

  Diego chuckled, shifting Vanko’s weight as they walked. “So, what are they seeing, Maestro?”

  Maria didn’t answer immediately. She lifted a hand with a subtle flick of her fingers, and a wave of distortion rippled outward. Diego blinked as the se in front of him ged, his smirk widening into something closer to genuine surprise.

  The illusion was masterful. Onlookers and cameras would now see a Hammer Industries voy, the vehicles pstered with sleek logos, barreling through the wreckage. Men in tactical gear, their faces obscured by bck helmets, appeared to rush the se with brutal efficy. Two figures emerged, each carefully sculpted in the illusion to resemble promi Hammer security personnel, bending over Vanko’s fallen form. In this version of events, they weren’t resg him—they were capturing him.

  “Wow,” Diego said after a moment, his tone a mix of admiration and disbelief. “That’s brutal. You’re not just pinning this on Hammer—you’re turning them into the vilins.”

  Maria kept her gaze forward, her steps measured. “People see what they want to see. Hammer’s been pying at being Stark’s petitor for years. A little nudge, and suddenly they’re the ones funding rogue operations.”

  Diego snorted. “A his is a full-blown shove off a cliff.”

  Maria gnced back at him briefly. “You’d be amazed hoeople fall when you give them the right push.”

  Behind them, the illusion pyed out fwlessly. One of the fake Hammer operatives dragged the illusory version of Vanko toward a sleek bck van that did, while another waved a gloved hand toward the panicked crowd. Maria didn’t bother hiding her satisfa as security personnel on-site began shouting into radios, trying to piece together what was happening.

  Ivan Vanko's eyes cracked open to an unfamiliar ceiling, the dim light above him casting sharp shadows on the walls. His muscles screamed in protest as he shifted slightly, metal restraints biting into his wrists and ahe room was cold, ical, yet stripped of the sterile polish he’d expect from a hospital over facility.

  Fures stood in front of him, their faces partially obscured by low light and masks. Their postures were unyielding, their presence heavy. The one in the ter, taller than the rest, leaned slightly forward, his mask marked with a faireak down its left side.

  Vanko coughed, his voice hoarse. “Who... who are you? SHIELD? Ameris? Stark's dogs?”

  “You’re not important enough for SHIELD,” Nero said, staring down at him. “And Stark? He’d rather have you rot orack than waste a sed talking to you.”

  Ivan ched his jaw, his mind rag to process the situation. These weren’t gover agents. Their posture cked the stiffness of bureaucrats. And they weren’t Stark’s people—too posed, too deliberate. He spat on the floor, his lip curling. “Then what do you want? Kill me or let me go. Don’t waste my time.”

  Diego chuckled, leaning against the wall, his arms folded as he g Nero. “Feisty for someone who just ged out of the wreckage like yesterday’s trash.”

  Nero raised his hand, sileng Diego with a slight gesture. The room fell quiet except for the faint hum of unseen maery. He stepped closer to Vanko.

  Nero stepped closer, the faint hum of unseen maery in the cold room undersg his presence. Vanko’s bloodshot eyes flicked toward him, attempting defia faltering under exhaustion and pain. Diego leaned against the wall, tent to let Nero hahe heavy lifting, while Maria stood just behind him, arms loosely crossed, her gaze sharp and unreadable.

  “Ivan,” Nero started, his voice steady, “you’re a smart man, so I’ll skip the theatrics. You’re angry. You’ve spent years trying to make the world feel your pain. You picked Stark because of your father’s history with Howard. The question is... was it worth it?”

  Ivan’s lips curled into a sneer. “Howard Stark... a thief, a liar. My father—genius. Your world took everything from him. From me.”

  ilted his head slightly. “Howard Stark did your father dirty. That much is true. He built his empire off ideas your father helped create, and when the Cold aranoia fred, Howard sold ons to the same military that killed your people. Your father retaliated, sold what he could on the bck market to level the pying field. I don’t bme him for that.”

  Ivan’s sneer wavered, fusion flickering across his battered face. “You think you uand?”

  “I uand enough,” Nero replied simply. “Your father was deported, his reputatioroyed, but he still had his mind. His brilliance. Same as you. You had the tools to build somethier, to rise above Howard Stark’s betrayal.” He took aep forward, his tone hardening. “Instead, you chose to drown in your father’s bitterness. You turned genius into vengeance.”

  Ivan growled low in his throat, pulling weakly against his restraints. “You do not know what it is to lose everything. To see your family crushed uhe weight of men like Stark.”

  Nero’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re wrong. I kly what it’s like. But I also know revenge for revenge’s sake is a fool’s game. You wasted your brilliarying to kill a man who doesn’t even know your name. And now, you’re in this room, powerless and bleeding.”

  Diego spoke up from his spot against the wall, smirking. “Hate to break it to you, but if this was y legacy move, you might wanhink the branding. ‘Guy with whips’ doesly scream ‘genius.’”

  Iva Diego but turned back to Nero. “You mock me, but you take me from the Ameris. Why? To mock my father too?”

  Nero shook his head slowly. “See, this is your problem. You lump people into one box and act like they all deserve the same rea. Why does every Ameri deserve your hate because a few wronged you? Should I hate all Russians because you’re here, wanting to kill me?”

  Ivan scowled but said nothing, his breathing ragged as he struggled against his restraints.

  “Howard Stark was Howard Stark,” Nero tinued, his voice sharp but calm. “Sure, Tony shares his st name, his blood, his fortune. But he doesn’t even know who you are. He doesn’t know who Anton Vanko was or what Howard did to him. You’re trying to kill a man who’s never heard your name.”

  “And if he knew?” Ivan shot back, his eyes narrowing. “What makes you so sure he wouldn’t have dohe same?”

  “Maybe he would,” Nero said bluntly. “Maybe not. You didn’t care enough to find out. You just picked up your father’s grudge and ran with it, dragging whatever was left of your brilliahrough the mud.”

  Ivan growled, but his voice wavered. "You don’t uand. You stand here, lecturing me, but you do not know what it feels like to lose everything."

  Anthony stepped forward, his arms still crossed. "You’re not the first person to lose everything, Ivan. You think that makes you u doesn’t. What makes you stand out is how you decided to burn every bridge in sight instead of building somethier."

  Ivan’s gaze shifted to him, his expression hardening again. "Better? When the world is rotten? There is er."

  Diego snorted. "Wow. That’s a real motivational pht there. ‘The world sucks, so let’s make it worse.’ Inspiring."

  Nero goward he flicker of patien his eyes extinguished. “I’m doh seling,” he said bluntly. “I have her the time nor the ination to coddle you.” His gaze shifted to Nigel. “Cloud, expin what we’re and what the alternative is. Make sure he’s fully cooperative. You know what to do otherwise.”

  epped forward, carrying the fai of authority. The others stepped aside, giving him room without needing instru. Vanko’s eyes tracked him warily, the faint rattling of the s the only sound in the room.

  Nigel crouched slightly, leveling his gaze with Vanko’s. “Listen carefully, Ivan,” he said, his toting ly through the tension. “This isn’t a iation. It’s a oime offer. We give you an opportunity, and you walk out of here with your life. You waste it, and we make sure no one ever finds what’s left of you.”

  Vanko’s lips twisted into a bitter smile, blood staining his teeth. “Opportunity? From thieves in the shadows?”

  Nigel’s eyes locked onto Ivan’s, the pale grey like shards of frozen gss. “Thieves or not, we’re the only people who wouldn’t ht kill you,” he said. “You better cherish that, boy.”

  Ivan snarled faintly, pulling against his restraints with what little strength he had left. “I cherish nothing from liars and cowards. If you had any strength, you wouldn’t talk—you’d act.”

  ilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t uand strength. Strength isn’t about tantrums and vengea’s about knowing when to use ford when not to. You? You wasted your strength, and now you’re at my mercy.”

  epped closer, unhurried, his shadow falling over Ivan. “It’s time to choose,” he said, his voice cutting through the statision like a bde. “You keep ging to your father’s grudge and rot, or you do something that actually matters.”

  Ivan’s gre remained defiant, though his body sagged against the restraints. “I will not be your pawn.”

  Nigel sighed. Without hesitation, his hand flicked upward, releasing a pulse of purple light from the ring on his fihe beam entered Ivan’s forehead with precision, disappearing into his skull. A sed ter, Ivan’s body jerked once befoing pletely still, his head slumping forward. The restraints around his wrists and ankles remaiaut, but there was no longer aanot a single drop of blood was shed.

  “Stubborn bastard.” Nigel muttered, l his hand and stepping back. There was no anger in his tone, only resignation, a faint trace of pity bleeding into his words.

  Anthony leaned against the wall, pulling his mask off. He tilted his head toward Ivan’s lifeless body. “Didn’t we need him?”

  urned, shaking his head. “You think Capo cares about this level of teology? An arc reactor? We could build one in our sleep if we wa. Capo gave him the ce because he saarallel—a man ruined by the as of others, blinded by a legacy of betrayal.” He paused, his gaze hardening. “But Ivan couldn’t see past his hatred. That’s what killed him, not me.”

  Dieghtened from where he leaned in the er, shrugging his jacket bato pce. “So much for poetic justice,” he said lightly. “And here I thought we were all about redemption arcs.”

  Maria's eyes flicked toward Nigel, as she ehe room. “Redemption isn’t a gift. It’s something people have to take for themselves. He chose not to.”

  Anthony g Nigel again. “You sure Nero's gonna be fih this? He doesn’t seem like the ‘waste resources’ type.”

  “Capo doesn’t waste resources,” Nigel replied. “But he also doesn’t g to them when they’re fwed beyond repair. Vanko was brilliant, but his brilliance was buried under yers of bitterness and self-destru. Capo gave him a ce—more than anyone else would’ve.”

  Diego ughed quietly, pushing off the wall. “Well, that’s one way to save on room and buess we’re done here.”

  Maria stepped away from the door, "Let's go. Donald is back."

  --

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