The Quinjet's damaged hatch remained ajar as the storm raged outside, wind and rain battering the craft. The team had regrouped after the sudden attack, but the atmosphere was tense, the air heavy with unanswered questions. The mysterious assailant who had torn into the jet and vanished without a trace had left them all on edge.
Steve was already moving, checking on the condition of the remaining hostages. Thor stood at the breach, his gaze fixed on the storm, Mjolnir still crackling with residual energy. Natasha was silent, nursing the bruises from the fight, her eyes focused but distant. And Metis—he could feel his mind racing, the system working overtime as it replayed the fight, analyzing every movement, every strike, trying to find an edge for the next encounter.
"This wasn't random," Steve said finally, turning toward the others. "Whoever they were, they knew exactly where to hit us."
Tony's voice broke through the comms, but it lacked his usual bravado. "Our systems are still down. Whatever that guy used, it scrambled every piece of tech we had running. We're flying half-blind right now."
"I don't think this is over," Metis said, stepping toward the open hatch. His senses were still on high alert, the system feeding him constant warnings. "They'll be back."
Natasha looked up at him, her face unreadable. "And when they do, we need to be ready."
Steve crossed his arms, his jaw set in determination. "We will be. But right now, we need to figure out who that was and what they're after."
Metis nodded, but his focus remained on the storm outside. The figure they had faced was fast—faster than anyone they had encountered before. Their tech was advanced, their combat style refined. This wasn't a random enemy, not a rogue agent or mercenary. This was something else, something calculated.
The Quinjet lurched slightly as they began their descent, the storm clouds parting to reveal the cityscape below. Tony guided them toward a hidden S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house on the outskirts of New York. They needed a place to regroup, to assess the damage and plan their next steps.
As they touched down, the team disembarked, each of them silent as they processed the events that had unfolded. The safe house was nondescript, a forgotten building hidden in plain sight, its exterior unassuming. Inside, however, the walls were reinforced, the tech cutting-edge. Tony immediately set to work, trying to recover whatever data he could from the scrambled systems.
Metis stayed near the entrance, his mind still replaying the fight. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming, something bigger than they had anticipated. The system kept pulling up anomalies—patterns in the data that didn't make sense. Every time he tried to focus, the information blurred, as if there was something hidden beneath the surface.
"You're still thinking too hard," Natasha's voice cut through the haze. She stood next to him, her arms crossed, watching him with those piercing eyes of hers.
Metis exhaled, shaking his head. "I can't help it. This isn't adding up. The timing, the attack—it was all too precise."
She raised an eyebrow. "You're right. But obsessing over it won't help right now. We need answers, not just more questions."
Metis met her gaze, appreciating her calm, no-nonsense approach. It was one of the things that grounded him, kept him from spiraling into over-analysis. But even with her words, the gnawing feeling in his gut wouldn't go away.
"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly, the words surprising even himself.
Natasha's eyes flickered with something, but she didn't hesitate. "I trust you on the battlefield. Beyond that, I don't trust anyone easily."
It wasn't the answer Metis had hoped for, but it was honest. And in a way, that meant more. Trust was something fragile between them, something neither was willing to give fully. Not yet.
Before he could respond, Tony's voice echoed through the room. "Got something!"
The team gathered around a large monitor where Tony was pulling up footage. The screen flickered as the Quinjet's onboard cameras replayed the moment of the attack. The armored figure appeared, their face still obscured by the helmet, their movements almost too fast for the camera to track.
"There's no way this is regular tech," Tony muttered, zooming in on the figure's armor. "This is beyond anything we've seen."
Steve frowned, studying the footage closely. "Whoever they are, they're trained. Military precision."
Thor gripped Mjolnir tighter, his eyes narrowing. "They wield power, but it is not the power of the gods. It is something more… mechanical."
Metis leaned in, his eyes scanning the figure's movements. There was something about the way they fought—something familiar, yet off. He could almost feel the system trying to piece it together, but every time it got close, the data slipped away.
"Run a full analysis," Metis said. "There has to be something we're missing."
Tony nodded, his fingers flying across the keyboard. The footage slowed, showing the exact moment the figure had unleashed the shockwave that disabled the Quinjet's systems. Tony paused the video, zooming in on the energy signature that radiated from the armor.
"There," Metis pointed. "That's not just tech. That's… something else."
Tony's eyes widened. "No way. That looks like—"
Before he could finish, the room's power cut out. The screens went black, and the hum of the building's systems fell silent. In the darkness, the team stood still, their instincts flaring.
"We're compromised," Natasha whispered, already moving to the shadows.
Metis felt his pulse quicken. Whoever they were dealing with wasn't just one step ahead—they were miles ahead.
A faint buzzing filled the air, and suddenly, the walls around them began to shift. Panels slid back, revealing sleek, black drones emerging from hidden compartments. Their eyes glowed red as they activated, locking onto the team with lethal precision.
"Everyone, get ready!" Steve shouted, raising his shield.
The drones attacked.
Metis moved without thinking, the system kicking into overdrive as he dodged the first barrage of laser fire. The room erupted into chaos as the Avengers fought back, their movements fluid and coordinated. Steve's shield deflected blasts, Thor's lightning arced through the air, and Natasha weaved through the chaos with deadly efficiency.
Metis fired at the closest drone, taking it down with a single shot, but more kept coming. Whoever had set this trap knew exactly how to target them, how to exploit their weaknesses. It was too well-coordinated.
"Tony, we need systems back up!" Steve called out as he blocked another blast.
"I'm working on it!" Tony's voice crackled from somewhere in the dark. "Just keep them off me for a few more minutes!"
Metis moved to cover Tony, taking out another drone with a well-placed shot. But the feeling in his gut was growing stronger. This wasn't just a random attack. Someone had planned this from the start.
As the last of the drones fell, the room went eerily quiet. The lights flickered back on, and Tony finally managed to reboot the systems. But the damage had been done.
"This was a setup," Steve said grimly, wiping the sweat from his brow. "They knew we'd be here."
"Question is," Natasha added, "why are they coming after us now?"
Metis didn't have an answer. But he knew one thing for sure—the enemy they were facing was far more dangerous than they had anticipated. And if they didn't figure out who it was soon, they'd be walking right into another trap.
And next time, they might not be so lucky.