The hotel's private lounge was quiet, tucked away from the city's noise. A soft glow from the chandeliers bathed the room in warmth, while faint notes of a piano drifted from somewhere unseen. The table between them held the remnants of their late-night meal—Freya had sampled a bit of everything, from the fruit to the wine, while Luthar, unable to digest normal food, had only sipped lightly from a bowl of broth. Two untouched glasses of wine and the half-finished plate of fruit remained, suspended in the quiet, a testament to words unspoken.
Freya leaned back in her chair, her disguise still flickering faintly, but her silver eyes glimmered through. She studied him for a moment, her lips curling into a faint smile.
"You know," she began, her voice casual but edged with curiosity, "I can't help but wonder—what's your next move? Silently taking over the world, or going back to your original world to fight demons?"
Luthar set his glass down with deliberate care, the light catching against the shimmer of his holographic face. His tone was calm and measured, but beneath it carried the certainty of a man already thinking ten steps ahead.
"Returning to my world in the current situation would be suicide," he said, his gaze steady. "For now, the plan is simple: let the agents adjust to their new armor and weapons. Then I will take them into the dungeon world to gain experience."
Freya tilted her head, smirking. "Turning assassins into adventurers. You're really not afraid of all the people in that world going against you?"
"That's better. I can only truly test the efficiency of my weapons when there's a real conflict," Luthar said, folding his hands neatly on the table. "I'll also need to continue my work on Mars. By the end of the year, we can have a fully operational base there."
For a moment, silence lingered. Then Freya let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.
"Mars, dungeons, armies of agents and machines… but where is the fun and enjoyment?"
Luthar's single organic eye softened, though his voice remained level. "For that, I need to improve my personal strength. Occasional breaks are okay, but I can't spend too much time playing games or watching movies when there are so many things that could kill me."
She raised her glass, the wine catching the glow. "You just need to relax. After all, there will always be something or someone that can kill you. No point stressing over it just because there are people stronger than you."
They touched glasses, the sound a soft chime in the quiet room. For a fleeting instant, it felt almost ordinary—two people sharing a drink, a night, a moment away from the weight of plans.
But as the clock edged past midnight, Luthar rose, offering his hand. "It's time to go back."
Freya took it, rising with a smirk. "Back to boring life."
They left the lounge together, the hotel's warm light fading behind them. By the time they returned to the base, the softness of the morning light was already spilling across it.
Luthar and Freya paused at the entrance, the warmth of the hotel already fading behind them. The date had brought them closer but did not make them lovers who cannot separate.
Freya glanced at him, her silver eyes catching the glow of the hallway. Slowly, she flicked away the faint shimmer of her holographic veil, letting her true face show. "I hope the next date is more romantic," she murmured with a playful tilt of her head.
Luthar mirrored her gesture, removing his own holographic mask. Then he put back the standard mask on his face with its familiar, precise lines—less intimate but functional, a barrier between him and the world. No words passed. A brief touch, a nod, then they separated. Freya moved toward her quarters, her steps light but measured. Luthar's strides were steady and deliberate, each footfall a return to focus as he moved toward his temporary workshop.
Inside, the soft hum of servers and the faint glow of holographic displays greeted him. Natasha waited, dark rings under her eyes betraying hours without rest, but her posture remained alert, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
"You're back," she said, voice controlled yet carrying a hint of impatience. "I wanted to know, how do you plan to handle all the agents?"
Not caring whether she was asking because she was worried about the agents or inquiring so she could send this information to Shield, Luthar activated the projections. Schematics of sleek assassination armor, armor inspired by battle sisters, and experimental weapons appeared with clarity, each model rotating slowly in midair, highlighting design intricacies and operational functions.
"I'll produce these first," he said evenly, his tone deliberate and measured. "Then the agents will familiarize themselves with the gear before any live exercises."
Natasha's dark eyes scanned the displays, every curve, edge, and attachment scrutinized. "You're confident they will handle this?" she asked, a faint edge of skepticism in her voice.
"I am," Luthar replied calmly, his single organic eye flickering with thought. "The agents who survived the Red Room selection process are exceptional, disciplined, and precise."
Natasha let out a sharp huff, a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Precise? That's a word for chess pieces or machines, not living people. They're human, not gears in your machines."
Luthar's single organic eye flickered with thought, the corner of his mask tilting slightly. "I do not deny their humanity, but to achieve perfection, one must approach them as both individuals and instruments of calculated potential."
Natasha shook her head. "That's not a good reply." She leaned closer to the projections of armor and weapons, frowning. "To be fair, these don't look that impressive compared to what Tony is building."
"When fighting a war, what you need is not shiny armor, but something reliable." Luthar's hand hovered over the controls, projections shifting to weapon loadouts. Experimental munitions rotated in precise formation, targeting simulations flickering beside them. "Each weapon and armor is designed to be durable, efficient, and easy to maintain."
Natasha's eyes narrowed, her voice low but sharp. "And who exactly do you expect to be fighting this war against?"
Luthar's gaze didn't waver. He ignored the implications of intelligence leaks, speaking openly. His organic eye gleamed with quiet certainty, the mask amplifying the weight of his voice. "War with anyone who interferes with my work. Gods, demons, aliens, or humans—if they obstruct me, they become the enemy."
"So basically, you are a scientist ready to burn the world just to do some research," Natasha said, her tone laced with amusement, though Luthar heard it clearly.
"You should not use the word 'research.' It's a disgusting word for a tech priest," Luthar replied, a subtle smirk ghosting across the metallic edge of his mask. "People like me make discoveries based on rules and blueprints, then test them until they are perfected."
Natasha's eyes narrowed, not in challenge but calculation. "And you're going to make me test these weapons?"
Luthar's smirk deepened, almost imperceptibly. "You could be the first, if you wish."
Her lips curved into a faint smile, though her refusal was firm. "No chance. I'd rather live to complain about it later." With that, she pivoted sharply, steps crisp and purposeful as she left the room, leaving the hum of machinery and glow of the projections to fill the space once more.
Luthar remained silent. He knew she would talk to Fury again and relay this conversation from his perspective—it was a complete waste of time. Fury had his alien allies and Captain Marvel as trump cards, but Luthar also had two goddesses and a guide for how to kill the alien.
After allowing himself a brief pause before returning to the schematics, his fingers traced armor outlines and weapon sequences. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk lingered beneath his mask. The next challenge would be sending his drones to other worlds to collect information for future use.
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