03. | EXTINCTION

IN THE LAB at Avengers Tower, everyone was devastated. Right after the attack, Tony detected another swarm of his robots flying out of the tower. Thor went to chase them, while the others stayed behind to process everything that had just happened.

Christina was using a pair of tweezers to remove the shards of glass that were embedded in her arms and chest. Wincing, she pulled a rather large shard out of her right bicep, watching the small wound instantly heal shut as she dropped the glass in the ever-growing pile on the table. Maria Hill was doing the same thing, cradling her foot in her lap as she pulled the foreign objects out. While the two girls worked on getting the glass out of their skin, Steve worked on getting the glass out of Zeus. Small patches of his white fur were stained crimson, the Super-Soldier pushing the dog's fur back and forth in search of more shards.

"All our work is gone," Bruce announced. "Ultron cleared out. He used the Internet as an escape hatch."

"Ultron," Steve muttered under his breath, softly stroking Zeus' head when he began to whine. The Super-Soldier was clearly annoyed with the entire concept of Ultron.

Natasha nodded, checking through her own data banks. "He's been in everything—files, surveillance—probably knows more about us than we know about each other."

"Guess that explains why he likes us so well," Liam pointed out, joking but clearly disturbed by all of this.

Rhodey nodded grimly, gently massaging his sore shoulder. "He's in your files, he's in the Internet. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?"

"Nuclear codes," Maria said, realizing the implications of what Rhodey was saying.

"Look," Rhodey began, moving to stand in the middle of the lab, "we need to make some calls, assuming we still can."

"Nukes?" Natasha repeated. "He said he wanted us dead, but..."

"He didn't say 'dead,'" Christina corrected, looking down at her torn dress sadly. "He said 'extinct' and I don't know, but the last time that I checked—those two words meant two totally different things. And he also said that he killed somebody."

"There wasn't anyone else in the building," Maria proclaimed, trading her pair of tweezers for a roll of gauze, wrapping the plush cloth around her injured foot.

"Yes, there was," Tony announced and with the flick of his wrist, an orange hologram appeared in the middle of the group. It was an image of Jarvis' data matrix. The code had clearly been ripped apart. The whole system was flickering. All of the Avengers knew what that meant—Jarvis, their constant companion, was a fatality of Tony and Bruce's creation.

There was a long moment of grim silence, finally being broken by Bruce: "What—this is insane."

"Jarvis was the first line of defense," Steve said, thinking tactically. "He would have shut Ultron down. It makes sense."

"No, Ultron could have assimilated Jarvis. This isn't strategy. This is—this is rage." Bruce explained and everyone took the comment seriously. They all knew that, more than anyone else alive, Dr. Bruce Banner was an expert on dealing with the effects of rage.

Just then, Thor rushed into the room, completely decked out in his battle armor. He grabbed Tony Stark by his neck, backing him through lab equipment and up against the wall. Within seconds, Christina was on her feet, moving to stand closer to the action just in case things got out of hand. But it was then that she realized that Tony had started something that they knew he couldn't stop; created something that would cause more bad than good—something completely opposite than what he had in mind.

"Come on, use your words, buddy," Tony urged, his voice strained as Thor tightened his grip on his throat.

"Oh, I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark," Thor huffed.

Steve stepped up, pushing Christina behind him just in case things got messy, trying to defuse the situation. "Thor—the Legionnaire?"

Thor responded to Steve, tossing Tony to the ground but didn't lessen his hard glare that was fixated on the billionaire. "The trail went cold about one hundred miles out, but it's headed north. And it has the scepter. Now we have to retrieve it, again."

"Well, the genie's out of that bottle," Natasha clarified, crossing her arms over her chest as she nodded toward the illuminated monitors. "Clear and present threat is Ultron."

"I don't understand," Helen said, staring down at the mutilated body that Ultron used to attack the Avengers. "Tony, you built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?"

"And if it's so bent on killing us, why didn't it?" Christina asked, shoving her arms into the gray jacket that Clint had tossed to her before zipping it up. "It could've blown up the entire building, taken at least most of us out. Instead, it attacked us head-on, why?"

Thor grimaced at the enhanced woman, "It wasn't an attack."

"Oh, then what would you call that, Thor? Because that back there, sure as hell felt like an attack." Christina blurted out, the traits of her old personality seeping through the cracks of the hollow shell that she had become. "I don't know what attacks felt like on Asgard—but, that's what attacks here on Earth, feel like."

Steve could practically see the steam radiating off her body from the amount of emotion that she had been bottling up for the past year. Her cheeks were reddened from anger, eyes blazing brighter than any of them had ever seen before—that was it. That was the moment when the pressure had built up so much inside the small bottle that the cap finally busted off; everything that had been cramped inside now flowing freely through her body. He gently placed his hand on the small of Christina's back; the contact alone had been enough for her to take in a breath to try and calm her pounding heart.

And at that moment, Tony laughed out loud. This endeared him to no one, all of them turning to look at the man with puzzled looks on their faces.

"Mmm-mmm," Bruce hummed, warning Tony to stop before he took it too far.

Thor stepped forward, his anger piquing once more. "You think this is funny?"

"No," Tony replied simply, turning away from the monitor to face the group. "It's probably not, right? This is very terrible. Is it so—it is. It's so terrible." He continued, barely being able to finish his sentence as his laughter kept breaking through his words.

"This could have been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand."

"No!" Tony exclaimed, returned Thor's aggression as the billionaire and the Viking God stood toe-to-toe. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this. There's a million different scenarios that could have played out, but if you think any of them involves us getting out of a fight, then yes, it is funny."

Bruce, in an attempt to calm his friend down, stepped forward to speak: "Tony, maybe this might not be the time to—"

"Really?" Tony cut him off, whirling around to face the doctor. "That's it? You just roll over, show your belly every time somebody snarls?"

"Only when I've created a murder-bot," Bruce deadpanned.

"We didn't!" Tony shouted, raising his arms out beside him. "We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?"

"Well, you did something right." Christina observed, stepping away from Steve and allowing all of her emotions to come at her head-on. "And you did it right here, keeping it a secret from the rest of us. The Avengers were supposed to be different—better—than S.H.I.E.L.D."

Tony's face flushed with anger, mirroring the same reddened cheeks as the blonde woman in front of him. "Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole? Saved New York?"

"No, it's never come up," Rhodey said dryly. "Never heard that."

Tony ignored his closest friend and continued: "Recall that? A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. And we're standing three-hundred feet below it. We're the Avengers—we can bust arms dealers all the livelong day, but that up there, that's...that's the endgame. How were you guys planning on beating that?"

"Together," Steve responded quietly with certain firmness in his tone.

Tony leveled a serious look at him. "We'll lose."

Steve was unfazed by his comment. "Then we'll do that together, too." The billionaire seemed unconvinced by the Super-Soldier's words, but Steve turned to the others and said: "Thor's right. Ultron's calling us out. And I'd like to find him before he's ready for us."

The others nodded to one another, knowing that he was right.

"It's a big world, guys," Steve continued. "Let's start making it smaller."

▲▽▲

CLASSIFIED LOCATION
MAY 21, 2005

Ash and dust clouded the air around her, pulling her into a haze of death and destruction. Gunfire rang loudly in her ears, and she knew that the battle was far from over. The thick air hung over her like a wool blanket—smelling of blood and sizzling flesh, something she had become accustomed to although a month ago it brought tears to her eyes. But in that moment, it hadn't mattered because orders were being called.

"Lieutenant 5379068," a decorated officer shouted. She glanced down at her wrist with a heavy heart, knowing that the exact set of numbers were tattooed horizontally on her forearm. "We've got wounded in that southeast building."

Taking a lungful of the contaminated oxygen, Christina sprung into action—running through the deserted area, having to occasionally jump over large pieces of debris. The gun and katana strapped around her made it feel sluggish at run, but her enhanced genes pushed her forward. Sweat flowed down her grimy face and stung her eyes as she squinted against the blazing sun. To her left, she saw a man obliterate an insurgent from the burning rays shooting out of his hands—another successful test subject. Just like her. Doctor Almedia had been experimenting on young men for decades, but only came across a successful subject every couple hundred failed ones. Christina knew that she wasn't one of Almedia's experiments, but she was someone's. When he saw what she could do he took her in and began torturing her to see if he could push the limits on what her abilities were capable of. He broke her, that much she knew. He made her hollow, made sure that she would no longer have a place in the world—and then he shoved something else inside her shell.

It had been two years since the last time Doctor Almedia had electrocuted her or stuck a knife in her—and she still had nightmares.

But in the end, he had won. He turned her into the cold-blooded killer he wanted her to be. A sixteen year old soldier who had the strength of an entire army. She finally made it to the southeastern building she had been instructed to go to, instantly seeing that it was barely standing; the walls were blackened with soot and embers were dying out in patches around it. The burnt door fell off its hinges when she pushed on it, taking cautious steps into the building afraid that it might crumble down around her if she moved too hastily. An intense pressure built up at the base of her skull, eyes stinging with their unnatural hue as she neared closer toward the source of whimpering.

"This is Lieutenant 5379068—Sitma, I'm here to gather the wounded." There was a string of broken groans before screams of anguish echoed throughout the charred remnants of the room. Christina's eyes widened, running toward the source of the scream.

She came across a door at the end of a long and wide corridor, fiddling with the doorknob until it fell off the door completely and clattered to the floor. When she stepped into the room, her breath caught in the back of her throat—entire body freezing as her feet seemed to be cemented in their spot.

A group of a dozen men stood around the room; war paint covered their faces as their hands gripped their guns tightly, awaiting for the Enhanced girl to attack. And in that moment, she knew that she had been caught. The revelation had hit her like a sledgehammer to the chest, Almedia had set her up. And as if on instinct, all twelve men charged forward—leveling their guns at her head with their fingers on the trigger ready to send as many bullets into her head as they deemed necessary, Almedia was testing her limits trying to see how much her heightened healing would repair.

Christina closed her eyes, breathing in a sharp intake of air—some instinct older than civilization itself was screaming at her—and that part had taken control of her. Her left hand floated out in front of her, an almost steam like mystical force coaxed the bodily extension, and before she knew what she was doing she flicked her wrist. Twelve sickening snaps rang painfully through the room, they echoed loudly in her ears as all of the men's bodies crumpled to the ground with certain death.

That had been the first time she had used her powers to kill people.

▲▽▲

The next day, Christina, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Natasha, and Rhodey were all furiously working togeether in the Avengers Tower lab.

    "Well, right now you guys are off the Pentagon's Christmas list," Rhodey informed them. "Every country with a nuke is fighting a cyber-attack. I'm being deployed to the Middle East, in case someone starts blaming someone besides you."

    Tony gazed at Rhodey, concerned for his friend. "I'm shipping you a new encryption drive for you suit, in case Ultron wants in."

    "Thanks," Rhodey replied. He knew that he would need everything Tony had up his sleeve to defeat this new menacing villain, especially one so elusive. "We've got security breaches all over," Rhodey reported to the group. "So far the nuclear launch codes are secure, but there are physical break-ins at military installations, nuclear power plants, uranium mines..."

    "He's all over the globe," Maria Hill reported to them as she exited the elevator, moving toward the stairs. "Robotics labs, weapons facilities, jet propulsion labs. Reports of a metal man, or men, coming in and emptying the place."

    Steve raised an eyebrow, "Any fatalities?"

    "Only when engaged," Hill replied, beginning to ascend the stairs. "And no one has seen anything. Just a lop of open doors and men left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears, and "something too fast to see.""

    "The Maximoff twins," Christina said, recognizing the description of the effects of Pietro's and Wanda's powers. "Of course he would have gone with them—they have someone in common. And we know that they're not working alone. Ultron has a new body."

    "We're getting denied access on basic information streams." Maria announce, handing Steve and Christina a tablet so they could see what Ultron had done. Strucker was leant up against a brick wall with a bullet hole in his head—the word 'peace' written on the wall in his blood.

    "Ultron killed Strucker," Steve voiced as they walked into an open area at the top of the stairs. Thor taking the tablet from Cap before slapping it against Tony's chest; Christina shook her head at them, not being able to stop herself from thinking that they were acting like a couple of children.

    "And he did a Bansky at the crime scene, just for us." Tony added, handing the device off to Bruce, who furrowed his eyebrows while examining the picture.

    "This is a smoke screen," Natasha said. "Why send a message when you've just given a speech?"

    Christina stepped forward, her shoulder brushing against Steve's bulging bicep. "Well, it's obvious that Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss."

    "I bet he..." Natasha trailed off, her fingers working along the keyboard. "Yeah—everything we had on Strucker's been erased."

    "Not everything."

A few moments later, the main floor of the Avengers Tower was filled with evidence boxes—which were loaded with S.H.I.E.L.D. files—holding all of the information they had on paper about Strucker. Christina assisted Steve in the task of bringing the boxes into the room. By the fifth or sixth trip, though, something in her body shifted. Her movements slowed. After the next trip she stopped, allowing herself to try and gather her bearings. She was abruptly exhausted and hot, she then began to fan herself with her hands. A coolish breeze was caused and it felt good on her skin.

Steve's warm arms were around her, pulling her against him. At the same time, a sudden pain twisted in her stomach, almost like the aftershock of catching a punch in the gut.

She could hear his voice in her ears but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. "Excuse me!" she gasped, struggling to get free of his arms.

He dropped his hold automatically. "Chris?"

She streaked for the bathroom with her hand clamped over her mouth. She felt so horrible that she didn't even care—at first—that Steve followed her into the bathroom while she crouched over the toilet and was violently sick.

"Chris? What's wrong?"

She couldn't answer yet. He held her anxiously, keeping her golden hair out of her face, waiting till she could breathe again.

"Are you all right?" His voice was strained.

"Fine," she panted. "You don't need to see this—go away."

"No way in hell, Christina."

"Steve, they need you more than I do," she moaned again, struggling to get up so she could rinse her mouth out. He helped her gently, ignoring the weak shoves she aimed at him.

After her mouth was clean, he carried her to the little love-seat pressed up against the wall adjacent to the bathroom and set her down carefully, supporting her with his arms.

"You think it's food poisoning?" Steve asked, bright blue eyes clashing against her shining emerald enhanced orbs. "I don't recall you ever getting sick since the day I met you."

"I don't know," she croaked.

He put a hand on her forehead. It felt intrusively hot. "How do you feel now?"

Christina thought about that for a moment. The nausea had passed as suddenly as it had come, and she felt like she did any other day. "Pretty normal. I'm actually kinda hungry, if I'm being honest."

Steve made her wait until she was able to keep down a big glass of water before he had Natasha make her a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich while he went back to help the rest of the team. Christina felt perfectly normal—beside the usual electric current flowing through her. Natasha turned on the television, switching it to the first news channel she could find. Even though they were away from the team, they needed to make sure that Ultron hadn't started World War III.

And just like earlier, a sharp pain hit her stomach when she shifted in her position on the couch. She lurched off the couch, her hand tight over her mouth. She knew she'd never make it to the bathroom, so she ran to the kitchen sink.

And that time, Natasha had held her hair.

"Maybe we should call Liam and have him run some tests," she suggested anxiously when Christina was rinsing her mouth afterward. Natasha had never seen the blonde get sick—ever. Christina was like Steve in that way; the pair practically had immune systems made of steel. Something was definitely up with Red Cobra.

Christina shook her head and edged toward the hallway. Even though she loved Liam like a brother and trusted him with her life, calling him would only cause more questions to be asked. "I'll be fine after I brush my teeth."

When her mouth tasted better, she searched through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom adjoined to her "vacation bedroom" at the Avengers Tower. It was full of mundane things like band-aids and ibuprofen and—her desired object—anti-acids. Something—anything to calm her stomach and get everyone off their toes.

But before her skimming fingers stumbled across the anti-acids, she found herself stumbling upon something in the medicine cabinet. She wrapped her slender fingers around the purple and black box, stared at it in her hand for a long moment, forgetting everything else.

Then she stated counting in her head. Once. Twice. Again.

A knock on the door startled her; the little box fell into the porcelain sink.

"Hey, you all right in there?" Natasha asked through the door. "Did you get sick again?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Christina replied, but her voice sounded strange.

"Do you want me to get Steve?"

Panic. "No, no, no. There's no need to worry him—you know how he gets."

"Can I come in?" Natasha asked.

"Ye...yeah?"

Widow came in and appraised her position, standing directly in front of the sink, and her expression, blank and staring. She stood next to Christina, her hand going to the middle of her back.

"What's wrong?"

Christina was counting again. She held up a finger, cautioning the red-head to wait, and mouthed the numbers to herself. She'd never been wrong before. She started over again. She tried to swallow. It didn't work. So she reached into the sink, grabbing the small box of tampons again. She held them up silently.

Natasha's expression instantly changed. "Do you and Steve even have sex?"

Christina managed to roll her eyes. "If we didn't do you think I'd be worried that my period is over a week late?"

Natasha's facial expression changed several times before it finally decided to fall into a neutral one.

"Oh, my God," Christina mumbled to herself in a flat voice. "Oh, my God."

Reflexively, almost involuntarily, her hand dropped to her stomach.

"I didn't think it was possible," she whispered.

▲▽▲

not edited