Ed POV – The Next Day
The meeting room was full.
Peggy.
Sage.
Plo Koon.
Battle Beast.
Siegfried.
A-Train.
Bang.
Today was the day.
The Red Room ends.
I stood at the front of the holographic table, projecting a 3D model of the floating Red Room base.
"Alright. Here's the plan," I began.
The map zoomed in.
"Step one: Plo Koon and I teleport directly into Dreykov's office. No alarms. No warning."
Plo Koon gave a small nod.
"We immediately put him under mind control and have him issue a global recall command. Every active Widow returns to base."
The hologram shifted, highlighting a massive empty structure inside the facility.
"Once they arrive, A-Train, I need you to relocate the adult Widows into this section."
A-Train leaned forward. "Looks like a hangar."
"It is," I said. "For some reason, it's currently unused. That makes it perfect. Once they're inside and sealed in, I'll disperse the cure through the ventilation system. Airborne delivery. Fast. Efficient."
The map shifted again.
"The child Widows will already be in their sleeping quarters. Large shared dormitories. The cure will reach them at the same time."
A-Train cracked his neck. "No problem. Thanks to that artificial Speed Force setup you built, I'm faster than I've ever been."
He wasn't wrong.
After months of research, I finished the artificial Speed Force generator and ran extensive testing. Once stable, I linked A-Train to it.
Best decision I've made in a while.
He used to take an hour to run across his city.
Now?
Twenty minutes.
And improving.
I also connected Pietro.
Interestingly, Pietro is slightly faster than A-Train.
Both produce blue lightning.
Which brings me to the red streak in Central City.
Barry Allen.
He's just starting. A few weeks into hero work. Raw. Talented. Emotional.
I want him in the Vanguard.
But that means Reverse Flash.
And while I'm confident I can handle Eobard Thawne…
I'm not interested in drawing the attention of a psychotic time-traveling speedster yet.
One war at a time.
I refocused on the room.
"Once the Widows are secured, Battle Beast, Siegfried, and Bang handle the perimeter guards."
Battle Beast's grin widened.
"You don't need to hold back," I continued. "I've reviewed every personnel file. Every single one of them has participated in trafficking, torture, or child conditioning. They're scum."
Siegfried crossed his arms. Bang cracked his knuckles.
"You can eliminate them."
I paused.
"Except for one."
The screen shifted.
An image appeared.
A man in armored combat gear. White hood. Skull mask.
Silence filled the room.
Peggy narrowed her eyes.
"Who is that?" she asked.
"This person is called Taskmaster," I said, bringing up the file on the screen. "A gun for hire. He's been working with Dreykov and the Red Room for about a year now."
I crossed my arms while looking at the image of the skull-masked mercenary.
"Normally, I'd just say kill him… but this time I want him captured. I want him to join the Shadow Guards. The guy only cares about one thing, money, and we've got plenty of that. Of course, we're never going to fully trust him, but his abilities are way too useful to waste."
I was honestly surprised when I found out he was working with the Red Room.
At first, I thought it was Dreykov's daughter acting as Taskmaster, like in the movie. But nope.
This one is Anthony "Tony" Masters.
The real Taskmaster.
An elite fighter and marksman with photographic reflexes. He can watch someone fight once and perfectly replicate their style, sometimes even counter it better than the original user. Captain America's shield work, Black Widow's techniques, Hawkeye's archery, even Spider-Man's movements… if he's seen it, he can copy it.
Which makes him extremely dangerous.
And extremely useful.
"I wouldn't trust him anywhere near the main team," I continued, "but for Black Ops missions? He's perfect, as long as the paycheck clears."
Honestly, he'd probably join without hesitation.
Money is literally the only thing the guy cares about.
Still, one thing had me curious.
Was this the version of Taskmaster who injected himself with that old Nazi experimental super-soldier serum that enhanced brain function? If that was the case, then he might have worked for SHIELD before becoming a mercenary.
Hard to say right now.
I already asked Gamma to dig into his past, see if there's any SHIELD records and track down information about his wife.
If the intel is right, that might be the best leverage we've got.
I looked around the room.
"Is everyone clear on the plan?"
Everyone nodded.
Then Bang spoke up while studying the screen.
"We understand," he said calmly. "But I would like to make a request."
I raised an eyebrow.
"What kind of request?"
Bang pointed at Taskmaster's file.
"If the information here is correct, he can learn any fighting style simply by watching it. I've never met someone with that ability before—not even in my world."
A small smile appeared on his face.
"I would like to fight him… and see that ability up close."
I didn't even hesitate.
"All right," I said. "I have no problem with that. Taskmaster is all yours."
Honestly, I wasn't worried about Bang in the slightest.
He was already one of the greatest martial artists alive, with strength bordering on inhuman.
And that was before he took my version of the super-soldier serum.
Taskmaster might be good…
But Bang?
Bang was going to destroy him.
I almost felt bad for the guy.
Almost.
Third-Person POV
Deep within the Red Room's hidden base, Dreykov sat in his office, scrolling through a list of new contracts.
Assassinations. Sabotage. Political removals.
Just another day of business.
One contract, however, caught his eye.
Target: Edward Valtheris
Payment: $50,000,000
Dreykov leaned back in his chair, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"And all I have to do… is kill some kid."
Fifty million dollars for something that simple.
Honestly, it was almost insulting how easy it sounded.
He could send one of his Black Widows to infiltrate Omnitech, gain Edward's trust, and eliminate him quietly. He had orchestrated operations like that hundreds of times before.
To him, it would be routine.
Then suddenly, Dreykov felt two presences appear behind him.
Cold.
Silent.
Watching.
"…Okay," a voice said casually. "My head is definitely worth more than that."
Dreykov's eyes widened.
He immediately tried to reach for the alarm button hidden under his desk, but his body froze.
Completely.
It was like invisible chains had wrapped around him, locking every muscle in place.
"I don't think that's the important part here, Arsenal," Plo Koon said calmly.
The Jedi Master stood behind him, one hand slightly raised as he used the Force to keep Dreykov perfectly still.
Arsenal, however, seemed far more offended by something else entirely.
"No, seriously," Arsenal continued, crossing his arms. "Ashley and I built our company from the ground up. We're improving infrastructure, medicine, technology, pretty much half the world. My head should be worth at least a few billion."
Plo Koon tilted his head slightly.
"You are a strange one," he said. "I have never seen anyone complain about the price on their own head."
Arsenal shrugged.
"Someone clearly never watched One Piece."
Once the brief conversation ended, both of them turned their attention back to Dreykov.
Plo Koon's Force grip tightened slightly while Arsenal stepped forward.
Then they focused their abilities on Dreykov's mind.
A moment later, the man's eyes lost their clarity.
The resistance disappeared.
His fingers slowly moved across the keyboard on his desk.
Under their control, Dreykov began typing orders into the Red Room's global command network.
New Directive: All active Black Widows are to immediately return to base.
Across the world, agents paused mid-mission.
Some were infiltrating government buildings.
Others were seconds away from completing assassinations.
A few were deep undercover in places they had spent years infiltrating.
The order made no sense.
Dreykov never cancelled operations halfway through.
Yet the command came directly from him.
So despite their confusion…
They obeyed.
One by one, the Black Widows abandoned their missions and began making their way back to the Red Room.
It took nearly three hours.
But eventually, every last Widow returned to the base.
Exactly as Arsenal planned.
Once every last Black Widow had returned to the base, a ground bridge suddenly opened in a random part of thebase.
Moments later, A-train shot out of the portals and began moving through the halls at incredible speed, collecting every adult Black Widow and transporting them to a single designated area.
The entire operation took less than twenty seconds.
When the last Widow arrived in the containment area, Arsenal and Plo Koon forced Dreykov to issue another command.
Every exit in the room is sealed shut.
Heavy blast doors slammed down over the corridors, locking the Widows inside so none of them could escape.
The moment the room was secured, Arsenal disappeared in a flash and reappeared inside the base's central air circulation chamber.
Large turbines hummed as fresh air flowed through massive ventilation ducts that connected to every section of the facility.
In Arsenal's hands was a large cylindrical device filled with glowing red liquid.
He carefully connected it to the main ventilation system.
"This should do it," he muttered.
The device was a dispersal unit, loaded with Melina's antidote—the cure designed to free the Widows from the Red Room's chemical mind control.
Once the system was locked into place, Arsenal pressed the activation switch.
The machine hummed to life.
Within seconds, the red antidote began to vaporize and flow through the entire air system, spreading through every corridor, room, and chamber in the base.
Slowly but surely…
Every Black Widow in the facility began to breathe in the cure.
And the Red Room's control over them started to break.
Bang POV
I stepped out of the ground bridge alongside Siegfried and Battle Beast.
The moment my feet touched the floor, I already knew where my target was.
Sage was providing overwatch and feeding me directions through the comms.
Taskmaster.
"Bang, are you sure you don't require any assistance?" Siegfried asked, sounding slightly concerned.
I shook my head.
"No, my friend. I can handle this hired gun on my own. I've fought monsters capable of destroying cities. This man will not be a problem."
I began walking down the corridor.
Behind me, I could already feel Battle Beast's excitement building.
"You two be careful," I said calmly. "Take care of the rest of these scummy humans. And Battle Beast… try to have some fun."
I didn't even need to look back to know he was grinning.
The three of us split up.
Following Sage's directions, I moved deeper into the base.
A few guards tried to stop me along the way, but they barely slowed me down. Within seconds, they were all unconscious on the floor.
It took roughly thirty minutes of walking through the sprawling facility before I finally reached my destination.
Standing in the center of a large hallway was Taskmaster, surrounded by a squad of armed guards.
That made sense.
The entire base was in chaos.
Battle Beast and Siegfried were tearing through security forces, and the alarms were echoing through the halls.
All eyes turned toward me.
The guards immediately raised their rifles.
"Stop right there!" one of them shouted.
I stopped walking.
But my eyes remained fixed on Taskmaster.
"So you're one of the ones attacking the base," he said. "Who are you… And who are you working for?"
"My name is Silver Fang," I replied calmly. "And I am a member of the Vanguard."
I clasped my hands behind my back.
"And we are here to dismantle the Red Room."
Even behind their masks, I could sense their reactions.
Shock.
Fear.
Arsenal's reputation clearly carried weight.
Taskmaster cursed under his breath.
"Fuck that," he muttered. "Kill him and let's steal one of the airships and get the hell out of here."
He glanced at the guards.
"I did not sign up to fight the second strongest superhero."
The guards didn't hesitate.
They opened fire.
Bullets screamed through the air toward me.
I raised one hand.
With smooth, flowing movements, I deflected every bullet.
When their magazines ran empty, the guards rushed forward with electrified batons.
I stepped forward.
In a blur of motion, I moved through them like water flowing around rocks—striking, redirecting, and knocking each of them unconscious with effortless precision.
Within seconds, every guard collapsed to the floor.
Silence returned to the hallway.
Taskmaster slowly clapped.
"Well now… that was interesting," he said. "I've never seen a fighting style like that before."
He tilted his head.
"What's it called?"
"Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist," I answered.
Taskmaster nodded slowly.
"Good," he said. "I'll make sure to put it to good use."
I smiled faintly.
"We'll see about that… young man."