The hum of the Quinjet's engines provided a low, steady background noise as they ascended into the night sky. The battle on the ground was behind them, but Metis couldn't shake the unease that lingered in his gut. The enemy had been too organized, too well-equipped. Whoever was behind this knew exactly how to strike, and they had done so with precision.
Steve stood near the cockpit, speaking quietly with Tony and Thor. Metis watched as they discussed the mission, their expressions tense but controlled. Natasha was at her usual spot, tending to her gear in silence, her face unreadable. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents they had rescued were being treated for minor injuries in the back, grateful but shaken.
Metis leaned back in his seat, staring at the ceiling. His mind raced as the system fed him bits of data—anomalies from the mission, potential threats, patterns in the enemy's tactics. It was a constant stream of information, but he had learned how to process it, to use it without letting it overwhelm him. Still, something was off.
They had saved the hostages, but why had they been taken in the first place? There were no demands, no clear agenda. The facility wasn't a high-value target. Something didn't add up.
Natasha's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "You're thinking too hard again."
Metis glanced at her. She hadn't looked up from her gear, but she didn't need to. She always seemed to know when something was on his mind. "I can't help it. Something's wrong. This doesn't make sense."
"Welcome to our world," she said, her tone dry but not unkind. "Not everything has a neat explanation."
Metis frowned, but he knew she was right. The world they operated in was filled with uncertainty, shadows, and deception. Still, his system wasn't wrong. It was designed to detect patterns, to calculate odds and outcomes—and the numbers didn't add up.
Before he could respond, the Quinjet jolted, shaking slightly as turbulence hit. Tony's voice crackled over the intercom. "Looks like we've got a storm front coming in. Hang tight, we'll be through it in a few minutes."
Metis glanced out the window. Dark clouds loomed on the horizon, the sky heavy with the promise of rain. Lightning flashed in the distance, briefly illuminating the landscape below. For a moment, he let his mind drift, watching the storm roll in.
Then, as quickly as the turbulence had started, it stopped. The Quinjet leveled out, the storm still raging outside but no longer affecting their flight. Metis felt the tension ease slightly—until Natasha spoke again.
"You feel that?"
Metis blinked, glancing at her. "Feel what?"
Natasha's expression was focused, her eyes narrowed. "Something's off. We're being followed."
His system activated instantly, scanning the airspace around them. There was nothing on the radar, no sign of any aircraft in their vicinity—but Natasha's instincts were rarely wrong. Metis leaned forward, activating his own sensors, pushing them beyond their normal limits.
And then he saw it. A faint blip, barely detectable, moving in the Quinjet's blind spot.
"We've got company," Metis said, his voice low. "Tony, check the rear. There's something trailing us."
Tony's voice came back over the intercom, sharper now. "On it. Everyone, stay alert."
Steve and Thor moved toward the back of the Quinjet, their expressions hardening as they prepared for whatever was coming. Natasha was already on her feet, her Widow's Bite ready, her eyes scanning the windows for any sign of the threat.
Then, without warning, the Quinjet shook violently, throwing them all off balance. Alarms blared as the lights flickered, and the rear hatch groaned under the force of a sudden impact.
"Brace yourselves!" Tony shouted.
The Quinjet shuddered again as something slammed into it from the outside, metal screeching under the pressure. Metis could feel the system surging, feeding him information in real-time, preparing his body for the fight.
"Get that hatch open!" Steve barked, grabbing his shield as he rushed to the back of the jet.
Thor's hand tightened around Mjolnir, lightning crackling around him as he prepared for battle. "I will handle this intruder."
The rear hatch groaned again, and then, with a deafening crash, it was torn open. Wind rushed into the cabin, howling as the pressure equalized. Metis and Natasha held on, bracing themselves as the air whipped around them.
Through the chaos, Metis caught a glimpse of their attacker—a figure clad in dark, sleek armor, hovering just outside the jet. They had some kind of advanced tech, allowing them to remain airborne in the storm. Their face was obscured by a helmet, but their posture was aggressive, radiating power.
The figure didn't wait. They surged forward, landing inside the Quinjet with a force that shook the entire cabin. Metis could feel the power emanating from them—strong, fast, deadly.
Steve was the first to engage, his shield up as he charged. The intruder moved with blinding speed, dodging Steve's attack and delivering a powerful kick that sent him crashing into the side of the jet. Thor was next, swinging Mjolnir with a thunderous roar. Lightning arced through the cabin, but the figure deftly avoided the blow, their movements fluid and precise.
Natasha moved in, her Widow's Bite aimed at a vulnerable spot in the armor. She fired, but the figure twisted at the last second, deflecting the attack and countering with a punch that sent her sprawling.
Metis knew it was his turn.
He stepped forward, the system already calculating the best approach. His senses heightened, his reflexes sharp. The figure turned toward him, their stance shifting as if they recognized him as a threat.
Without hesitation, Metis lunged, his enhanced speed matching the intruder's as they clashed. Fists collided, sparks flew, and the sound of metal meeting metal filled the cabin. The intruder was fast—faster than Metis had anticipated—but his system kept him in the fight, predicting their movements, adjusting his attacks.
For a moment, it seemed like a stalemate. Neither of them could gain the upper hand. But then, with a sudden burst of energy, the figure unleashed a powerful shockwave, sending Metis and the others flying back.
The intruder didn't stay to finish the fight. Instead, they leaped out of the Quinjet, disappearing into the storm as quickly as they had come.
"Everyone okay?" Steve called out, pushing himself up from the wreckage of the cabin.
"I've had worse," Natasha muttered, wincing as she stood. "Who the hell was that?"
Tony's voice crackled over the intercom again, sounding shaken. "I don't know, but we just lost all radar. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't just after us for fun."
Metis frowned, staring at the torn hatch where the figure had disappeared. His system was still on high alert, processing the fight, analyzing the intruder's movements, their technology. It had all been too calculated, too precise. Whoever they were, they had planned this attack.
But why?
As the Quinjet continued its flight through the storm, Metis couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Something far more dangerous was lurking in the shadows, and whatever it was, it had just made its first move.
And it wasn't done with them yet.