Tony stood over the unconscious Widows, ready to wake them, when his HUD flared with alerts. A new analysis report popped up, flooding his screen with data.
ALERT: FOREIGN COMPOUND DETECTED
"Sir," Hermes' voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. "The Widows' neural scans are showing anomalous activity. There's an unidentified serum in their bloodstream, distinct from the Super Soldier Serum."
Tony frowned. "Details."
A holographic display formed before him, showcasing a molecular breakdown of the compound. His enhanced vision zoomed in, watching how the foreign serum latched onto neurons, hijacking signals, rewriting, and turning free will into an illusion.
"It's a synthetic neurochemical suppressant," Hermes continued. "A highly advanced mind control serum. The chemical bonds suppress independent decision-making while amplifying external commands. If they wake up now, they will not be in control of their bodies."
Tony exhaled slowly. "So, I just traded one problem for another. Great."
He rubbed his helmet, pacing in a slow circle. This wasn't just conditioning—this was biological enslavement. If he woke them up now, they'd fight him, whether they wanted to or not.
Natasha's voice crackled over the comm. "Tony? What's wrong?"
"Yeah, so… small problem. The Widows aren't just brainwashed. They're chemically rewired to be puppets. If I wake them up, they won't see us as allies. They'll see us as targets."
Silence.
Then, Natasha spoke, her voice low and controlled. "How bad is it?"
Tony glanced back at the motionless Widows. "Bad. The serum doesn't just make them obedient, it removes their ability to disobey. They're stuck in their own bodies, unable to fight back. Even if they wanted to resist, they couldn't."
A sharp inhale from Natasha. "Can you fix it?"
Tony smirked. "Fix it? Babe, I'm Tony Stark."
He turned away from the Widows and flexed his fingers, watching as the black and gold nanites along his armor shifted and swirled like liquid metal.
"Legion," he called out.
A second voice, deep and smooth, filled his helmet. Unlike Hermes, which was precise and analytical, Legion sounded almost… alive.
"Yes, Sir?"
Tony grinned. "You ready for some fun?"
A low hum vibrated through the suit. "Always."
"Hermes, send Legion everything you have on the serum. Activate the Bio-Nanite Mode."
"Processing," Hermes replied.
Tony knelt beside one of the Widows, placing his hand over her arm. Nanites slithered from his gauntlet, sinking into her skin like ink dispersing in water.
"Legion, I'm giving you free rein on this. Adapt. Override. Burn out whatever's in their system without causing any side effects."
"Understood."
Tony's HUD lit up as data flowed between Legion and Hermes. The nanites worked fast, mapping the Widow's neural pathways, isolating the foreign serum, and beginning the delicate process of neutralization.
The holographic screen in front of Tony showed a live simulation of the Widows' biology. The mind control serum was deeply embedded, its tendrils wrapped tightly around neurons, forcing chemical obedience. Legion's nanites latched onto it like microscopic surgeons, cutting away the invasive compound molecule by molecule.
Natasha's voice came through, quieter this time. "Tony… are you sure this will work?"
He hesitated, watching as the Widow's vitals fluctuated.
"I never test things before I use them," he admitted. "But if it doesn't, well… then I just committed mass murder by accident."
"Tony."
"I'm kidding. Mostly."
Legion's voice cut in. "Sir, I am progressing through the first subject. The serum is deeply integrated into the motor cortex and hippocampus. Full removal will take approximately three minutes per Widow."
Tony glanced at the 113 bodies before him. "Three minutes each?" He did the math. "That's… five hours and some. But, you can adapt after the first, so approx. 15-16 minutes should be enough."
"Correct," Legion answered. "Once I adapt to the first subject, I will optimize the process for the rest. Estimated time for full detoxification: fifteen minutes."
"As I thought."
A sharp beep from Hermes. "The first subject's neural pathways are stabilizing. The serum is being overridden."
Tony watched as the Widow's breathing changed—her chest rising more naturally, her fingers twitching slightly.
Then…
Her eyes snapped open.
Tony tensed, ready for a fight.
But she didn't attack.
Instead, she gasped, her body jerking as if waking from a nightmare. Her pupils dilated wildly before focusing on him. She looked around, confused, then down at her own shaking hands.
"I…" Her voice was hoarse. "I can… move?"
Tony exhaled. "Hell yeah, you can."
The Widow stared at him, disbelief washing over her. Then… tears formed in her eyes. Silent, unrestrained, but real.
"Legion," Tony said. "Execute on the rest."
"As you command."
The room was filled with a faint hum as thousands of nanites dispersed, flowing through the air like invisible mist.
One by one, the Widows began to wake.
Some gasped. Others clutched their heads, overwhelmed by the sensation of choice returning to them. A few immediately broke down into sobs, years of stolen autonomy crashing back all at once.
Tony stood, watching it unfold.
Then his comms crackled.
"Tony," Natasha's voice was tight, emotional. "Put me through to them."
Tony pressed a button on his gauntlet, activating the speakers in his suit. "Widows, you have a call."
Natasha's voice filled the room.
"Sisters."
Every Widow froze.
Then, one by one, they turned toward Tony, toward the sound of the voice echoing through the room.
Natasha took a shaky breath. "You're free."
Silence.
Then—
A single whisper from one of the Widows.
"…Natasha?"
Tony crossed his arms, watching as the chaos of emotion spread through the room. Some fell to their knees, sobbing in relief. Others clutched their heads as years of programming fought against their newfound freedom.
"Welcome back to the world, ladies," Tony said softly.
Then he turned to the two very unfortunate women still lying at his feet... the Headmistress and Lyudmila, both watching in horror as their empire crumbled before their eyes. Well, the Headmistress looked tougher than she looked. Despite passing out, she woke up again and was looking great for someone who lost their limbs.
Tony smirked.
"Now," he said, rolling his shoulders. "Time for your turn."
The Headmistress and Lyudmila.
The two women lay on the cold steel floor, their bodies broken but still conscious enough to understand what was happening. The Headmistress groaned, clutching the burned stumps where her legs used to be. Lyudmila, still slumped against the wall, glared up at Tony with a mixture of hatred and something close to fear.
The Widows turned toward them.
Some of them clenched their fists, their faces unreadable. Others just stared, their expressions dark, their minds processing years of pain, abuse, and stolen choices.
Tony sighed dramatically, placing his hands on his hips. "Alright, ladies. Let's have a little chat."
The Widows turned to him.
He motioned to the two women. "Now, I could kill them myself. Wouldn't take long. Hell, I could make it so they never die, just keep them suffering in some underground cell forever. But that doesn't feel right, does it?"
He took a slow step forward.
"No. That's your decision to make."
The words hung in the air.
The Widows blinked. A few of them exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. The very concept of being allowed to choose was foreign.
Tony crouched down next to Lyudmila, tilting his head. "You hearing this, Kudrin? You should be honored. You spent years turning these women into tools, stripping them of their freedom." His voice dropped to a mocking whisper. "And now? They get to decide what happens to you."
Lyudmila's breathing was ragged, but she still held her glare. "You think this will change anything?" she spat, blood dripping from her mouth. "The Red Room is bigger than one facility, bigger than me. You may have freed these puppets but they are replaceable. There will always be more."
Tony smirked. "Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that while you piss yourself in fear."
He stood up and turned back to the Widows.
"So," he said, clapping his hands together. "What's it gonna be?"
Silence.
Then—
One of the Widows stepped forward.
She was young, barely in her early twenties, with short black hair and dark, hazel eyes. She walked slowly, almost cautiously, until she stood before the two fallen women.
Her hands balled into fists. "I remember you," she said, her voice steady but cold.
Lyudmila looked up, squinting.
"You took me from my family when I was eight," the Widow continued. "You made me kill my best friend when I was twelve."
A pause.
Then she turned to the others. "How many of you were forced to kill someone you loved?"
A murmur rippled through the group. Dozens of hands went up.
The Widow's jaw tightened. She turned back to Lyudmila and the Headmistress.
Her next words sent chills through the air.
"Then we decide together."
Tony crossed his arms, watching with interest. He wasn't going to interfere.
One by one, more Widows stepped forward, their expressions unreadable.
One of them, a woman with a deep scar across her cheek, knelt beside the Headmistress and yanked her by the hair, forcing her to look up.
"Do you remember me?" she asked quietly.
The Headmistress gritted her teeth, pain evident in her face, but she said nothing.
"You should," the Widow continued. "You made me watch while you killed my sister. Said it would make me stronger."
Another Widow spoke. "You drugged us. Made us think we wanted to be your weapons."
Another. "You laughed when we cried."
More voices. More memories.
Then, the black-haired Widow, the first to speak, turned to Tony.
"What do you think we should do?" she asked.
Tony blinked. "Oh, no, no, no. Don't put this on me. You get to make this call."
"I... We..." They somewhat hesitated. The word freedom was foreign to them. Tony noticed it and thought it would take some time for them to get used to this.
He exhaled, rubbing his jaw. "Killing them would be easy," he admitted. "A quick solution. But you have to ask yourselves—will it make you feel better? Will it fix what they did to you?"
The room was silent.
Then Tony shrugged. "Or maybe you don't care about fixing it. Maybe you just want them to suffer. And that's fair, too."
Lyudmila let out a sharp breath, laughing weakly. "You're no better than us," she rasped.
Tony grinned. "Sweetheart, I never said I was a good person."
Then he turned back to the Widows. "Your choice, ladies. Just know... whatever you decide? No one's gonna stop you."
Silence stretched.
Then...
A gun clicked.
Tony raised an eyebrow as one of the Widows aimed a pistol at Lyudmila's forehead.
Lyudmila closed her eyes.
The Widow's finger trembled over the trigger.
Tony watched, curious.
Then...
The gun lowered.
The Widow exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "No," she muttered. "Death is too kind for them."
The others murmured in agreement.
Scarred Widow smirked. "Then we make them suffer."
The Widows moved as one, dragging Lyudmila and the Headmistress toward the far end of the facility. There was a lot of equipment down there. Medical labs. Surgical stations. Places where they had been experimented on.
Now?
They were about to return the favor.
Tony didn't need to watch what happened next.
Natasha's voice came through the comms. "Tony… Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. I'm far from done."
....
[Leave some reviews & Power stones as usual]
If you like my work, you can support me on>: www.patr eon.com/XcaliburXc
[Read 15 advance chapters] [No double billing]
---