The ground beneath Metis shook as the facility's alarms blared, echoing through the narrow corridor. The dim red emergency lights cast an ominous glow over the steel walls, and the distant sound of boots thundering toward them sent a wave of urgency through the team.
Steve was already moving, helping one of the weakened S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to his feet. Natasha did the same, her movements quick and efficient. Metis stood guard by the door, his senses heightened as the system fed him a constant stream of data: the number of hostiles approaching, their positions, the tactical layout of the building. Every instinct screamed at him that they didn't have much time.
"Hostiles incoming," Metis said, his voice low but steady. "About a dozen, armed. They'll be here in less than two minutes."
Steve grimaced, glancing at Natasha, who nodded in silent understanding. "We don't have time to fight them all. We'll need to get the hostages out now."
"We don't have the luxury of a stealthy exit anymore," Natasha added, her voice tight. "They know we're here."
Metis could feel the tension in the air as they quickly formulated a plan. It wasn't going to be easy, but they didn't have a choice.
"I'll take point," Steve said, tightening his grip on his shield. "Natasha, you and Metis cover the rear. Get the hostages to the extraction point."
"Roger that," Natasha replied, her eyes locking with Metis for a brief second. There was no need for words between them; they both knew what needed to be done.
Metis nodded, adjusting the grip on his weapon. "Let's move."
With the hostages now on their feet, the team moved out, making their way through the labyrinth of corridors that led back to the surface. The facility seemed to close in around them, the walls narrowing, the tension suffocating. Every second felt like it was ticking down to something worse.
They rounded a corner, and just as Metis had predicted, the first wave of hostiles came into view—a group of armored soldiers, moving with military precision. Their rifles were raised, the laser sights cutting through the dim light, zeroing in on the team.
"Contact!" Steve shouted, raising his shield just as the first barrage of gunfire erupted. Bullets ricocheted off the vibranium, but the sound was deafening in the narrow corridor. The hostages ducked instinctively, their fear palpable.
Natasha was a blur of motion, ducking and weaving between the gunfire, using the walls for cover as she returned fire with her Widow's Bite, stunning two of the soldiers with electric precision. Metis stayed close, his reflexes enhanced by the system as he fired several shots, taking down another soldier with a well-placed shot to the knee.
Steve surged forward, shield first, slamming into the closest enemy and sending him crashing into the wall with a sickening thud. The remaining soldiers hesitated for a fraction of a second—long enough for Metis to capitalize.
His system pulsed, feeding him the perfect trajectory. In a single, fluid motion, Metis dashed forward, delivering a powerful strike to the nearest enemy. The force of the blow sent the soldier sprawling, his weapon clattering to the ground.
The rest of the hostiles tried to regroup, but Steve was already on them, his shield sweeping through the remaining opposition with brutal efficiency. In less than a minute, the corridor was cleared, the bodies of unconscious enemies strewn across the floor.
But there was no time to rest. More soldiers were surely on their way.
"Keep moving!" Steve ordered, his voice urgent. "We're almost there."
The team moved with renewed speed, rounding another corner and heading for the stairwell that would lead them back to the main level. Metis could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest, the rush of adrenaline mixing with the system's energy, making him feel almost weightless, unstoppable.
As they ascended the stairs, he kept an eye on Natasha, who was covering their rear. She moved like a shadow, her every movement precise and deliberate. Even in the chaos, Metis couldn't help but admire her control, her ability to stay calm in the face of overwhelming danger.
It was one of the many things he respected about her, but it also made him wonder—how much of that calm was real, and how much was just another layer of the walls she had built around herself?
They reached the top of the stairwell, and the exit to the surface loomed ahead. But before they could reach it, a loud explosion rocked the building, sending debris raining down from the ceiling. The blast threw everyone off balance, and the hostages cried out in fear as the walls trembled around them.
"Go! Go!" Steve shouted, his voice barely audible over the noise.
Metis grabbed the closest hostage, pulling him to his feet as they rushed toward the exit. His ears were ringing from the explosion, but his focus was unshaken. The system had already adjusted to the new variables, calculating the safest route through the chaos.
As they emerged into the open air, the full scale of the situation hit them. The facility was surrounded by more soldiers, their black uniforms blending into the shadows. Helicopters hovered above, their searchlights sweeping over the area, and the sound of engines roared through the night.
"This is a lot bigger than we thought," Natasha muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of an opening.
Steve's jaw clenched. "We need extraction now."
"On it," Tony's voice crackled through their earpieces. "We're closing in on your position. Hold tight."
But there was no time to wait.
The soldiers surrounding the facility were already moving in, weapons raised, ready to engage. The Avengers were outnumbered, pinned down in an open space with little cover. It was the worst possible scenario.
"We've got to buy time," Steve said, his shield raised. "Metis, Natasha—keep them off the hostages. We'll hold the line."
Without hesitation, Metis and Natasha moved into position, forming a protective barrier around the hostages. The soldiers opened fire, and the sound of bullets filled the air once again. Metis could feel the system working overtime, calculating each movement, each shot, each opportunity.
He returned fire with pinpoint accuracy, taking down two soldiers with clean, efficient shots. Natasha was right beside him, her Widow's Bite flashing as she disabled several more. But for every soldier they took down, more appeared, and the situation was growing increasingly desperate.
"We're running out of options," Natasha muttered, her voice tense.
Metis gritted his teeth, feeling the strain of the fight. The system was keeping him sharp, but even he had limits. And those limits were being pushed.
Just as things seemed on the brink of collapse, the roar of engines filled the air once more. Tony, Thor, and Bruce came barreling into the fray, Iron Man's repulsors blazing as he unleashed a barrage of energy blasts on the enemy soldiers. Thor, wielding Mjolnir, slammed into the ground with enough force to send several of the attackers flying.
The tide of the battle shifted in an instant.
"We're here to rescue you guys," Tony quipped over the comms, his voice filled with his usual bravado. "Miss us?"
Steve didn't waste time with a reply. "Focus on getting the hostages out. We've got this."
With the added firepower, the Avengers were able to push the remaining soldiers back, creating enough of an opening for the hostages to be evacuated. One by one, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were lifted into the waiting Quinjet, and the team regrouped, forming a defensive line.
Metis felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly as the immediate danger passed. But even as the last of the hostages were safely loaded onto the Quinjet, he knew the fight was far from over.
The enemy might have retreated for now, but this was just the beginning.
As the team boarded the Quinjet and prepared for extraction, Metis found himself glancing at Natasha. Their eyes met for a brief moment—an unspoken acknowledgment of the battle they had just survived, and the battles still to come.
There was something in her gaze that made him pause. A flicker of something deeper, something more than just the usual professional camaraderie. But before he could dwell on it, she looked away, her expression unreadable once again.
Metis exhaled, leaning back in his seat as the Quinjet lifted off. The mission was a success. The hostages were safe.
But as the city lights blurred beneath them, Metis couldn't shake the feeling that they had only scratched the surface of something much bigger—and far more dangerous.