As you walked back toward the tower, the cool night air still lingering on your skin, you felt the familiar tug of Steve's presence behind you. Without warning, he was at your side, his hand closing around your arm, his grip firm and insistent. You almost winced from the pressure, not because it hurt, but because you could sense the weight of his concern. He didn't understand yet how much control he was exerting over you. He was still unaware of the quiet strength you'd been cultivating, the resilience you had learned to hide behind a calm exterior.

"Who was that you were talking to?" Steve's voice broke the silence, his tone even but edged with curiosity. There was an undertone of something deeper, something protective. You could feel the tension in his hand, even as it remained on your arm, as if he was waiting for your answer, as if he needed to know.

You stopped walking for a moment, your heart beating just a little too fast. You hadn't anticipated this encounter, and now you found yourself caught between explanations. You couldn't very well tell him the truth—not yet, anyway. Not when the situation felt so... uncertain. Instead, you managed a calm smile, though it was tinged with a trace of something you couldn't quite hide.

"It was... nothing," you said, your voice steady but laced with a thin thread of hesitation. "Just someone I ran into."

Steve's eyes narrowed slightly, still searching for the truth beneath your words. The concern was palpable, like a heavy fog settling between you both. You could feel the way his gaze lingered, probing, but you weren't sure if he was looking for reassurance or answers.

He shifted his stance, his hand still resting on your arm, but now, it felt like he was trying to anchor you in some way—ground you to this moment, this reality, where everything should make sense. But you could feel the weight of the knowledge you hadn't shared with him yet, the tension in your chest as it pressed down, urging you to speak, to explain, but you couldn't.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Steve's voice was softer now, less commanding, as though he'd sensed the change in you.

You nodded, a small but reassuring motion. "I'm fine, Steve. Really."

But deep down, you knew you weren't. You were anything but fine.

SCENEBREAK

Ultron sat, his mind swirling in a complex web of calculations and desires. His metallic fingers drummed against the surface in front of him, a deep thoughtfulness in his posture, as his glowing red eyes narrowed with every word that echoed in his mind. He had been listening carefully as Pietro entered the room, carrying news of a certain woman.

"I ran into her today, Ultron," Pietro said, his voice laced with a tone that was far more wistful than Ultron had expected. The speedster's words hung in the air, pregnant with the weight of a past that had yet to be fully understood.

Wanda, standing in the shadows, watched her brother carefully, her sharp eyes narrowing with concern. Pietro, despite all of his speed and strength, was still so easily swayed by his emotions. She had seen it before, and now, she saw it again. She stepped forward, her expression cautious, before her gaze flicked to Ultron.

Ultron's response was calculated, measured, as if he had already weighed every possible outcome. "I see," he said, his voice cold, though there was an undertone of something darker beneath the surface. He paused, and for a moment, there was silence. Then, without another word, he stood, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the room. He moved toward Pietro, each step purposeful, the hum of his mechanical limbs vibrating through the air.

Wanda instinctively moved closer to her brother, her body language protective, yet her expression betrayed a tinge of apprehension. She wasn't sure where this conversation would lead, but she had a sinking feeling that Ultron's patience was running thin.

"You must understand, Pietro," Ultron's voice broke the silence, his tone firm, unyielding. "Do not form any attachment to her. She is the enemy."

Pietro's face flickered with uncertainty, his eyes darting between Wanda and Ultron. His usual cocky grin faltered, a silent question in his gaze. Wanda's eyes softened just for a moment, the flicker of sibling affection showing before the reality of Ultron's command took over.

Pietro nodded slowly, his thoughts still a swirling storm of conflicting emotions. But he knew what Ultron expected, what Wanda wanted him to do.

For now, he would obey.