The machine wasn’t supposed to do this.

Tony had said “worst case, we open a tiny hole in space-time.” No one had expected the sky to tear open like a wound.

One second you’re standing beside Natasha in the lab—red lights flashing, Steve barking orders, Sam mid-complaint—and the next, the ground vanishes beneath you.

You hit concrete hard.

Weapons up. Instinct takes over before thought does.

You rise into a defensive stance, twin batons already in your hands, eyes scanning the unfamiliar room. Industrial. Starkly lit. Armed personnel everywhere.

Across from you stand three people who are very clearly not from your universe.

A woman with military posture and a stare that could flay someone alive. A massive man in a red shirt holding a helmet like it’s sacred. And—

“OH MY GOD,” the man in green blurts, eyes lighting up like it’s Christmas. “You guys fell out of a PORTAL.”

Natasha steps up beside you, calm as ever. Steve squares his shoulders. Tony mutters, “Yep. Definitely not Kansas.”

The woman—Emilia Harcourt—doesn’t lower her weapon. “Everyone stay exactly where you are.”

Adrian Chase ignores her completely.

“Wait—wait—are you,” he squints at you, head tilting, “a Black Widow?”

You don’t blink. “Yes.”

His mouth falls open. “LIKE… THE Black Widow?”

Natasha sighs. “Unfortunately.”

You glance at your sister, then back at him. “She’s my sister.”

Silence.

Chris Smith lets out a laugh. “No way. Two of them? That’s cheating.”

Adrian looks like he might actually combust. “That is SO COOL. Do you both do the leg-scissor thing? I mean—not like—at the same time—unless—”

Harcourt elbows him hard. “Shut up.”

But Adrian’s already staring at you like you’re a legend come to life.

“You’re trained in the Red Room,” he says, awe mixing with something sharper. “Assassins. Spies. Moral gray areas.”

You meet his gaze, assessing him in half a second. Unpredictable. Deadly. Masked insanity barely contained.

“Yes,” you say evenly. “And you’re clearly not the brains of this operation.”

He grins. “Correct! But I am extremely enthusiastic.”

Tension crackles through the room—two worlds colliding, heroes and antiheroes measuring each other. You shift slightly, placing yourself half a step in front of Natasha without thinking.

Adrian notices.

He lowers his voice. “You protect her.”

“Always.”

His smile fades—not entirely, but enough to mean something. “Yeah. I get that.”

Harcourt finally lowers her gun—just a fraction. “We need answers.”

Tony exhales. “Lady, join the club.”