"Mission 2: Destroy one alien warship."
"Difficulty: Hard."
"Time Limit: 15 days."
"Tip: Alien warships contain large numbers of Chitauri. Completing this will also complete Mission 1."
"Tip: The more you destroy, the higher your final evaluation."
"Mission 3: Stop the alien invasion plan."
"Difficulty: Hell."
"Time Limit: 15 days."
"Warning: If you fail to complete the mission within the allotted time, the Forbidden Zone will erase you."
Staring at the three options hovering before him, Vincent chose the third without hesitation.
This instance was The Avengers. For Vincent, it was practically a rerun.
The invasion's cause was Loki, of course.
Somewhere deep in the stars, a mysterious figure had handed Loki an Infinity Stone and loaned him an army of Chitauri to carry out the invasion.
As long as Vincent shut down the portal at the end, the mission would be cleared.
And the method for closing it was burned into Vincent's memory.
Now all that remained was to find Autumn. After that, he only needed to execute the plan, and nothing could go wrong.
A flash of white swallowed his vision.
When the light cleared, Vincent found himself standing inside a battered, run down warehouse.
He scanned the surroundings once and immediately knew where he was.
Voices drifted from not far away. Vincent slipped behind a stack of shipping containers and moved toward the sound.
"Hey, you bitch, are you going to talk or not?"
"I've been patient enough. If you keep wasting our time, we won't mind finding some entertainment on your body to pass it."
"Don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink the forfeit."
A man in military fatigues slowly drew a short black leather whip from behind him, glaring impatiently at the woman bound to a chair.
From behind the container, Vincent activated his heightened vision and got a clear look at everyone's faces.
The woman tied to the chair was none other than S.H.I.E.L.D.'s ace agent, Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff.
As for the three men threatening her…
They didn't matter.
Watching the man close in, Vincent decided there was no point waiting.
He blurred.
In the next instant, he was behind them.
His hand turned into a blade and tapped each of their necks.
Thud.
All three dropped unconscious at once, blood slowly leaking from their noses and mouths.
"Hey," Natasha snapped, clearly annoyed, eyes sharp and guarded on Vincent. "I hadn't even started interrogating them yet. Why'd you kill them?"
This man had taken them out before she even sensed him.
That meant he was dangerous.
Possibly more dangerous than her.
Vincent waved a hand, relaxed. "Stop staring at me like that. I'm not a threat to you. If I were, you'd be on the floor with them."
"And they're not dead. Just unconscious. I'm a law abiding citizen. Murder's illegal, and I don't do illegal."
He bent and picked up a phone from the ground.
Natasha watched him closely, expecting his next move.
Then the phone rang.
Vincent didn't look surprised at all. He answered and held it to Natasha's ear.
"Natasha. You need to get back here. Now."
"Are you kidding me?" Natasha frowned. "I'm working. Even if this job can't exactly continue."
"Perfect," Coulson said. "Then come back immediately."
"For what?" Natasha asked, confusion in her voice. Her right hand had already produced a thin hidden blade from nowhere, and she was sawing through the rope around her wrists with quick, practiced motions.
"Barton's been compromised. We need you."
Coulson tried hard to keep his voice steady, even though what had just happened had clearly rattled him.
S.H.I.E.L.D. had been breached.
An agent had been taken.
And the Tesseract had been stolen in a single strike.
It was the first time something like this had ever happened.
Hearing Barton's name, Natasha's brow tightened. She flicked her eyes up slightly.
Vincent understood. He pulled the phone away.
But in the next second, Natasha suddenly kicked out.
Straight for the one place a man never wanted to get hit.
Bang.
Natasha sighed in defeat.
Of course it hadn't worked.
Vincent had caught her ankle, his grip like a steel clamp. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't pry free.
"Alright," she said dryly, raising an eyebrow. "I get it. I was wrong. Let go."
Vincent released her, his tone cold. "That's your first and last warning. If there's a next time, I won't mind breaking your leg."
"You're useful, sure. Just not that useful."
"Yeah, yeah. Got it." Natasha sounded irritated. The last strands of rope snapped, and with a shake, the bindings slid off her wrists.
She rolled her shoulders to wake up the numbness, took the phone from Vincent, and called back.
The two of them started an encrypted conversation.
Mostly code words.
Vincent couldn't make out the details, but he knew the plot from here.
Coulson would have Natasha track down Dr. Banner, the Hulk.
For Vincent, that was pure wasted time.
To Natasha's disbelief, Vincent rummaged through the three unconscious men, scraped together a little over a hundred dollars, and pocketed a few small items that looked valuable.
Then he walked off like he owned the place.
"Natasha?" Coulson's voice came through the line, dry from talking. "Did you hear my instructions?"
Natasha snapped back to reality, tossed out a couple of vague acknowledgements, got the coordinates, and ended the call.
Vincent was already gone, disappearing into the distance.
Natasha watched him for a long moment, murmuring to herself, "What a strange guy…"
Leaving the warehouse, Vincent moved quickly along the road.
He counted the little stack of cash in his hand and frowned.
Three men dressed like they had money, and they were this broke?
All three combined barely cleared a hundred bucks. That wouldn't even cover a decent barbecue meal.
Of course, he hadn't taken it for barbecue.
He waved down a private car and, using the "Fluent Foreign Language (Trial Version)" the Forbidden Zone had provided, smoothly told the driver what he wanted.
Then he handed over a hundred dollars.
The driver happily agreed.
The car sped down the road. The night scenery smeared into long streaks of light, oddly beautiful.
Vincent frowned.
Even though they were moving fast, he had the distinct feeling they were getting farther and farther from the city.
"Where are you taking me?" he asked.
The driver chuckled. "So you noticed?"
He didn't bother hiding it. "You didn't really think a hundred bucks could buy me, did you? You foreigners really are naive."
The car rolled to a stop beside a wooden cabin. The driver reached into his bag, pulled out a heavy machete, and glared at Vincent.
"Hand over anything valuable. Now."