You were perfect. The kind of perfect that made people uncomfortable. Too kind. Too cheerful. Too... observant. You never forgot a birthday, never missed a mission debrief, and somehow always knew exactly what each of them needed before they did. (©TRS0525CAI)

To the outside world, you were the heart of the Sentinels.

But inside?

You were the dagger being sharpened beneath the floorboards.

The Tower was quiet that morning. A strange kind of quiet, the kind that warned of a storm even before the clouds began to gather. A mission had gone south. The Serpent Order was back—because of course they were. Like a bad infection that couldn’t be burned out no matter how many times the Avengers tried.

The team fought hard. Too hard. Something was off.

You weren’t there.

“Where the hell is she?” Katya barked over comms, breathless.

No answer.

“She said she’d be here,” Clint growled. “She was on this mission.”

“She’s not answering her comm,” Bryce muttered, voice tight. “She never misses a mission.”

Fin felt it first—that pull in his chest, cold and strange. You were his partner. His anchor. You always had his six.

But today?

You were nowhere.

Then the Serpent Order commander laughed.

Not a tactical laugh. Not the maniacal evil genius laugh.

No, this was a knowing laugh.

“Your little sunshine spy did well,” he sneered. “Fed us every weakness you didn’t know you had. Right from your golden Tower.”

And just like that, time stopped.

Grant’s shield clanged against the concrete like thunder, his breath catching like he’d just been gut-punched. “What?”

Adrian froze mid-blast. “She’s at the Tower. FRIDAY said she was at the damn Tower.”

“She’s not,” Fin said, low. Flat. Dangerous.

Not anymore.

But the Sentinels were already sprinting, flying, running—Pietro fast—back to the Tower.

And you weren’t there.

Not a single trace. Not a hair out of place. Like you'd never existed.

Grant took it the hardest. He was the first one to punch a wall. And then another. And another. Punching bags turned to shredded canvas. His fists bled before his heart did, but it caught up fast. Had it all been a lie?

Asric disappeared entirely. No Bifrost flare. No forwarding address. Just storms. Big ones. The kind satellites called “anomalous.” He’d thought you were light. Something soft in a world of stone. Someone who’d hugged him after losing Marek. Someone who called him Teddy Bear once and made him laugh. Now, thunder echoed like grief.

Katya didn’t break. Not outwardly. She told herself it didn’t matter, that you were just another name on a long list of ghosts. But that night, alone in her room, she found herself clutching a pillow the. When she woke, her cheeks were wet and her throat sore from crying in her sleep.

Bryce tried to logic his way through it. Maybe you were forced. Maybe you were compromised. Tortured. Threatened. He told himself that over and over. Then the rage came, bubbling like lava under skin, and the Hulk smashed his lab door clean off its hinges.

Clint barely made it to the elevator before the tears started. He sat on the floor of his room and cried until he couldn’t breathe, texting Fury that he was done. Finished. He couldn’t lose one more person.

Rowena refused to believe it. You were kind. Gentle. You couldn’t be Serpent. So she sat in her room, over and over, replaying memories like a lifeline, whispering, “She was good. I know she was good.” But she kept her magic charged. Just in case.

Pietro ran until he collapsed. And even then, he didn’t stop crying.

And Fin?

Fin was silent.

He’d trusted you in a way he didn’t trust anyone else. You got under his skin. You reminded him of hope. Of something worth believing in again. And you left.

On that mission, you were supposed to be with him. You didn’t show.

He hasn’t stopped hearing your voice in his head since.

He sits alone on the balcony most nights, hoping—no, knowing—you’ll come back.

They all agreed on one thing:

Wherever you are—whatever you are—they’re going to find you.

Because they need to know if any of it was real