The tension that filled the air in Dreykov's personal command center immediately faded as Maxim entered, cracking a joke with a smirk on his lips. His dark cloak rippled behind him, and everyone could feel his overwhelming power, yet they could also sense his playfulness.
That is, everyone but Dreykov. Maxim's overwhelming aura directly overwhelming Dreykov, leaving him soaked in sweat from fear. The Spectral Holy Eagle that was perched high above was locked onto his every move.
Throughout the room, the reactions were diverse however. The Widow's were slightly confused, as most of them had never met Maxim. However, Wanda's eyes widened, joy filling her body.
Maxim's presence was even more overwhelming than before, and she could feel that he had become more powerful than when he left. By how much? She didn't know exactly, but she knew he was stronger.
Pietro could also feel it as well, his cocky demeanor replaced by a rare moment of awe. His eyes were not only on Maxim, but also the Spectral Eagle perched above.
"Okay.... that's new." He muttered, swallowing hard. Pietro didn't know if he was imagining it, but he could swear that the Eagle's gaze was tracking his every move, and he was at a loss for words.
"Maxim?" Wanda whispered, a smile forming on her lips as her crimson aura instinctively increased in intensity due to her outpouring emotions.
Maxim's smirk deepened at her voice. His gaze flickered briefly to her, softening ever so slightly, "In the flesh, Wanda."
Before Wanda or Pietro could say more about their reunion, a familiar voice cut through the room.
"Maxim?" Natasha Romanoff stepped forward, lowering the weapon she hadn't even realized she'd raised. Her eyes gleamed with recognition, and a small, teasing smile tugged at her lips, "You know, I wondered where you disappeared to all this time. You weren't exactly hanging around with Wanda and Pietro."
Maxim turned to her, his smirk never wavering, "Romanoff," he greeted with a nod, his tone light but confident.
Natasha tilted her head, crossing her arms over her chest as she gave him a once-over. "You've been busy, huh?" Her tone was playful, but there was genuine curiosity beneath it. "I mean, showing up with that thing and all. You could've at least sent a postcard."
Natasha pointed to the Spectral Eagle as she spoke, and Maxim chuckled with amusement, responding with the word, "Business."
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her own smile widening, "That's it? Just business?"
"That's it," Maxim replied simply, his tone calm yet leaving no room for elaboration. Natasha rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a soft laugh. "Typical."
Dreykov, still on his knees from the piercing screech of the spectral eagle, groaned as he pushed himself up. His face twisted in confusion and anger. "Who... who the hell are you?" he spat, wiping blood from his mouth. His voice trembled slightly, though he masked it with bravado.
"You have no idea what you're interfering with. I built this empire from nothing, " Dreykov didn't get to finish his words, before Maxim delivered a swift, bone-shattering kick to Dreykov's chest, sending him flying across the room like a rag dall, crashing into the wall with a thud.
The impact left a crack in the reinforced surface, and Dreykov slumped to the floor, coughing violently, his glassy eyes struggling to focus as blood dripped from his lips.
Maxim turned back to the group, dusting off his hands. "Well, that was satisfying."
The freed Black Widows exchanged glances, their stunned silence giving way to the thoughts that were going through their mind. They didn't know who Maxim was, but since he was friends with the ones who saved them, they were happy he was on their side.
"Maxim!" Wanda's voice, filled with relief and excitement, cut through the tension. She rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. For a moment, her powers flickered, sending soft crimson tendrils swirling around them.
Pietro followed, his usual smirk returning, "You took your time, man. Thought you were gonna let us handle all the fun."
Maxim pulled away from Wanda, giving Pietro a firm pat on the shoulder, "Figured I'd make a dramatic entrance. Wouldn't want you two getting all the glory."
Natasha's gaze softened slightly. She didn't know Maxim well, but seeing Wanda and Pietro's reaction told her all she needed to know. He was someone they trusted, someone who could turn the tide. She gave him a curt nod, "Glad you're here."
Dreykov groaned from across the room, his body trembling as he struggled to rise. His lip was split, blood staining his teeth, but his gaze burned with hatred. "You think... you can walk in here... and take everything from me?" His voice cracked, but his fury remained intact.
Maxim barely acknowledged him. "Oh, you lost everything the moment you underestimated them." He gestured to Natasha, Yelena, and the Black Widows. "They don't need me to finish you. I'm just here to speed things up."
Suddenly, a metallic clank echoed through the room as Taskmaster, Antonia Dreykov, stepped forward. Her armor glinted under the dim lights, her movements precise and calculated.
Though her face remained hidden beneath the mask, the tension in her posture was unmistakable. She drew her sword, the blade humming with energy.
"Antonia," Natasha whispered, pain evident in her voice as memories of the past flashed through her mind.
Maxim's gaze flicked to Taskmaster, assessing her with a calm, measured look. He could tell she was still firmly under Dreykov's grasp due to brainwashing.
Taskmaster lunged forward, her sword cutting through the air with deadly precision. Maxim sidestepped effortlessly, his cloak swirling as he moved. He deflected the next strike with his forearm, his inorganic physiology absorbing the impact.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, dodging another swing, "But I will if I have to."
Taskmaster pressed on, her attacks relentless, each move a mimicry of Natasha, Yelena, and even Pietro's speed. She was a perfect weapon, her mind still shackled by Dreykov's control.
Maxim remained patient, taking advantage in a gap in Antonia's stance with his Supernatural capabilities, he caught her arm and twisted it, forcing her to drop her sword.
Then, in one fluid motion, he swept her legs out from under her, pinning her to the ground. Taskmaster struggled, but Maxim's grip was firm as he held her down.
"Wanda," Maxim called, not taking his eyes off Taskmaster. "It's time."
Wanda stepped forward, her hands glowing with crimson energy. Maxim lifted Taskmaster effortlessly, carrying her to Wanda. He handed the limp figure over with care, "Do it."
Wanda's eyes glowed as she placed her hands on Taskmaster's helmet, sending waves of her magic into the woman's mind. Taskmaster writhed for a moment, then stilled. Wanda's energy pulsed through her, dismantling the brainwashing layer by layer.
The room fell silent, everyone watching with bated breath.
After a tense minute, Taskmaster let out a shuddering gasp, her hands clutching Wanda's arms. Slowly, she removed her helmet, revealing Antonia's tear-streaked, disfigured face beneath.
Her eyes were no longer blank; they were filled with pain, confusion, and... freedom.
"It's over," Wanda whispered gently. "You're free now."
Antonia stared at Wanda, then at Natasha, who took a cautious step forward. "Antonia," Natasha said softly, her voice trembling with emotion.
Antonia's lips quivered, "Natasha... I remember everything." Her voice was hoarse, broken. Natasha reached out, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes, "For everything."
Maxim turned back to the Widows, his voice cutting through the heavy silence, "Dreykov is yours," he declared, his tone final. "Do with him what you will. Justice belongs to you."
The Widows exchanged glances, their expressions hardening. One by one, they stepped forward, surrounding Dreykov, who had finally managed to stand. His face contorted with fear as he realized his fate.
"You can't do this!" Dreykov snarled, backing away,"I made you! I gave you purpose!"
"No," one Widow said coldly, her voice steady, "You took it from us."
The Widows closed in, their collective resolve unshakable.
Maxim stepped aside, turning his back on Dreykov. He walked toward Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha, leaving the Black Widows to finish what they had started.
As the sounds of Dreykov's protests echoed through the halls, Maxim placed a hand on Wanda's shoulder. "It's over. Let's get out of here."