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[Time to repay, Child of Miracle.]
[Mission target: T-VEX stock solution.]
[From: The Baron.]
[Note: For Wanda.]
Pietro stared at his phone, his face flickering between light and shadow.
Baron Strucker.
"T-VEX stock solution…"
HYDRA had studied T-VEX countless times; it couldn't be reverse-engineered or copied.
The root problem was the missing earliest sequencing formula. HYDRA scientists deduced that T-VEX had a parent drug—the original solution.
Pietro clenched his teeth.
He knew exactly what it was. Inside Vought it was already an open secret: every current batch was developed from that single vial of original solution. It was Vought's lifeblood and the fearless heroes' ultimate trump card.
If he stole it—and got caught—everything he owned: the mansion, the sports cars, the fans, the freedom to run in sunlight—
would all turn to smoke.
And he would have to face the Homelander.
Thinking of that ever-smiling man whose eyes occasionally flashed crimson, Pietro couldn't help shivering.
But… if he refused.
Wanda was still in their hands.
"Damn it…"
Pietro tossed the phone onto the bed and raked a hand through his silver hair in frustration.
"One devil on the left, an even worse devil on the right."
He loved this place.
He loved Vought.
The man in the star-spangled cape had given him dignity, status, even power he'd never dared dream of.
"For Wanda."
Those four words were his fatal weakness.
They were his only anchor in this World. If he disobeyed, what would that madman Strucker do to Wanda?
Pietro closed his eyes; his sister's pale face surfaced in his mind.
He grabbed a bottle of hard liquor from the coffee table and knocked back a mouthful. The fiery liquid scorched its way down but couldn't burn away the chill in his heart.
That bastard Baron Strucker—Nazi remnant son of a bitch!
He didn't want to betray Vought, but he couldn't abandon Wanda either.
So this would be a "loan."
"Get the original solution first, hand it to that old bastard Strucker," Pietro muttered to the air, trying to convince himself. "Once I'm sure Wanda's safe, I'll tear that fortress apart to get it back. Then I'll take Wanda and escape back to the United States."
"Right, that's the plan."
"Afterwards I'll return the original solution to Vought and confess to Mr. Starr. Even if I get fired, I can always deliver pizzas—fastest delivery boy in the World."
But picturing the Anthony's red eyes lighting up in the dark, Pietro shivered again.
"As long as I'm fast enough…"
He stared at his own hands.
"…As long as I'm fast enough, no one can catch me."
…Next day, 5:55 p.m.
Vought International HQ, Core Lab Zone.
It was one of the most heavily guarded areas in the entire building.
Pietro wore his silver-gray combat suit, goggles pushed up on his forehead, chewing gum—his habitual way to mask nerves.
"Hey, Debbie!"
He leaned on the supply counter and flashed the chubby clerk a killer smile. "Know what? Your makeup today is absolutely killer—like Avril or something."
The plump girl named Debbie blushed. "Cut it out, you say that to every girl. Here for this month's quota?"
"Of course." Pietro tapped the counter. "Training's been brutal lately—Ashley wants me running till my legs drop on that treadmill. I need some 'Spinach Juice' for a boost."
"Spinach Juice" was the in-house joke for T-VEX.
For The Seven, it was the best "training supplement" available.
Tests showed that, after dosing with T-VEX, supes' extreme-training efficiency jumped dozens of times.
And as long as you kept it to one shot every two weeks, the body metabolized the toxins perfectly—no resistance built up.
Debbie laughed and shook her head, then turned to open the safe and pulled out two sleek metal cases.
"Here's your pair—two shots. And this is Angela's; she said to give it to you last time."
"No problem, I'll hand it to that firecracker."
Pietro took the cases but didn't leave right away.
Beep—
The wall clock ticked.
17:58.
Two minutes until the core lab researchers changed shifts.
"Thanks, Debbie."
Pietro strolled off toward the elevator—but ducked into the restroom instead.
He locked the stall door and sat on the toilet lid.
Opened the case.
Cold mist wafted out. Two syringes glowing faintly green lay nestled in shock-proof foam.
Pietro adjusted his breathing, then picked one up.
"For Wanda."
The needle plunged straight into his thigh muscle.
Plunger all the way down.
Hiss—!!
That familiar, savage sensation surged instantly.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
The air turned viscous; the World, to him, seemed to freeze.
In the restroom a leaky faucet held a single droplet suspended mid-air, refracting the ceiling light.
Pietro stood, feeling boundless energy flood every cell, each one screaming to run.
"Let's go."
Pietro vanished.
In this near-static World, busy Vought employees looked like lifelike wax figures.
Coffee hung in mid-spill as brown beads; files slipped from hands and hovered at knee height.
Pietro threaded between these "statues" as if strolling through an empty park.
He arrived at the entrance to Vought's laboratory.
A half-meter-thick titanium airlock barred the way, requiring triple biometric checks to open.
He had no clearance.
But he had speed.
Just then two hazmat-suited researchers pushed a cart out; the door had cracked open—barely thirty centimeters wide.
He slipped through the gap with ease.
The researcher stepping out still had one foot raised, frozen mid-air.
Pietro ducked under his arm and into the core vault.
In the center of the cold-storage unit, a transparent container held blue liquid.
The original solution.
He didn't grab it—that would trigger a weight alarm.
Instead he pulled out the special sampler he'd prepared in advance.
Extract.
Once the blue original solution was drawn, an identical-colored substitute filled the vial, keeping the original weight.
Done. He turned, slipped back through the still-opening gap.
Back to the corridor.
Outside the restroom.
He struck a pose as if just walking out.
"Whew—"
He exhaled.
The World resumed its flow.
Clack.
The blast door finished opening; the two researchers strolled out, chatting and laughing, utterly unaware that in the blink of an eye someone had already slipped in and out.
No alarms sounded.
Perfect.
Pietro's heart pounded, but he forced himself to stay calm.
Carrying the case with his "quota," he whistled and swaggered toward the elevator.
"Hey, Pietro!"
A passing staffer greeted him.
"Catch you later, buddy!" Pietro waved back with a grin.
No one knew he carried a priceless secret against his chest… Pietro exited the HQ building and stepped onto the plaza outside, the bustling street bringing his overheated brain down a notch.
Success.
At full speed he could reach Sokovia in ten minutes.
Just then.
He spotted someone.
Standing beside the towering Homelander statue in Vought Plaza.