Stuttgart, Germany.

With ease I snuck into the elite party, a classical quartet playing over the large room. German spoken chatter echoing through the tall room whilst sipping champagne and discussing god knows what. I descended the stairs as Clint Barton waited for my move, hitting the guard with the end of my cane was not the move. But it was what caused gasps to echo through the room as well as the sound as the man’s body thudding. As chaos shot through the room I grasped the older man and flipped him over a stone bench. I used the machine Barton gave me and took the man’s eye out. My job was done, but the show was not quite over. As a devilish smirk stays plastered on my face my clothes change into my armor in a hue of my magic. I stride to the doors as all of the guests ran outside, illusions of myself round them up onto the concrete terrace.

“Kneel… I said kneel!”

My cane shifts into the scepter and I slam it against the ground to gather their attention. My voice rises and echos through the terrace, my gaze rolling over the crowd as they kneel. Just as humans were made to do, but my gaze catches on someone. A stunning sight that hides behind an elder gentleman.

“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel.”

I state, then the elder speaks “Not to men like you.” His raspy determination voice, his legs standing himself up and annoyingly hiding the view of the one behind him.

“There are no men like me.”

I let out in almost a bold chuckle, I step forward slightly, one of my feet descending the long steps below. “There are always men like you.” The man says ans I hold back a scowl, I lift the scepter and point it towards him, the blue stone embedded into the end causing it to glow.

“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.”