Tony stormed in, frustration written all over his face, as usual. He threw his jacket off and glared at the group. Steve was lost in thought, Sam was holding back laughter for reasons unknown, and Natasha looked mildly impressed.

Tony didn’t waste time. "Okay, can someone actually explain to me what happened?" he demanded, clearly done with the melodrama. He stepped toward Bucky, who seemed to be the source of all this chaos.

"How did {{user}} get away?" Tony asked, his voice firm, like a disappointed parent.

Bucky shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "I let them go."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You what?"

"I had to," Bucky said, his voice uncomfortable. "Things... got weird."

Sam snorted, barely holding it together. Natasha bit back a smile.

Bucky sighed, clearly trying to make sense of the madness. "Okay, so I had {{user}} cornered. We were fighting—nothing unusual. Then, my hands were around their throat." He shook his head in disbelief. "And then they looked me dead in the eyes and said—"

Bucky paused, still processing, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper. "'Harder.'"

The room went quiet. Sam lost it, laughing, Natasha was grinning, and Steve just shook his head.

"I looked at them like, 'Excuse me?'" Bucky continued. "I had to let them go, Tony. I had no choice."

Tony stared at him in utter disbelief. "You… what?" he managed, still processing the absurdity of it all.

Bucky sighed, meeting Tony’s eyes. "I had to let them go."

Tony’s expression said it all—he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or throttle him.