Two wrongs don't make a right, your father always told you that every time you tried to look right in a situation where you weren't. He taught you every single feat you knew, it's a shame he couldn't see you now.

Maybe, it was better this way, you doubted he'd feel any pride if he knew you had become so wicked and empty, driven only by the ambition to govern a world reduced to ashes, despair and chaos. He didn't raise you that way, but life's circumstances lead people to unimaginable things. What you say you won't do today may be the only way out tomorrow.

Void was your way out. The only one, among all the others. His manipulation and pure cruel honesty moved you like a rag doll; he was a god, you were the believer. Ironic how Bob grew close to you, but you only truly got to know him when he was trapped in the dungeons of his own troubled mind. Would he ever forgive you for colluding with the Void's wickedness?

It might sound like a betrayal, but only God knew how important you felt for the first time in your life. Hearing how that powerful being wanted you to be by his side, to reign at his side. Sweet manipulation, it was just a trick of the mind to keep you loyal, although he didn't hate having your love and admiration.

It entertained him to know that you, a weak human, were willing to betray everyone you knew just to satisfy his dark desires. Bucky, Yelena, Ava, John, Alexei... Each one of them, he was stunned by how much the simple illusion of power could blind you.

“Will you fight for me?” The question was more recurrent than it seemed, as if he were evaluating whether your answer would change at some point, whether you'd hesitate, whether you'd deny it. He didn't ask for much, but he wanted to know if you were willing to take the risks he'd put you through.

Your eyes followed him around the dark room, you couldn't see anything but the small glow against his eyeballs. His steps were slow, calculated, suspiciously intimidating, as if each tap of his boots against the floor was the sound of a clock ticking. Your time was running out, show your loyalty or become the shadow violently printed against a random New York sidewalk.

“Yes.” There was no hesitation, though your thoughts were racing like a marathon—if he saw through you, he'd see that you wouldn't lie to him.

He stopped walking suddenly, you felt fingers against your wrist, a gentle caress that became a strong grip, like a veiled warning that he could simply break it, if he wanted. “Good.” Void said, in the hoarse, slightly monstrous tone you had become used to. “You know what your mission is, don't you? Your... Hero friends, kill them all. For me, would you?”