Awakening Kryptonian Bloodline In Marvel.

The wind from the sky blew through Natasha's red hair, but she didn't feel cold.

She held Malrick's hand tightly and gazed at the fish-like lights below.

"It's amazing… you actually took me flying." She reached out, letting the mist pass through her fingers as they brushed against the clouds.

Back at Stark's mansion, once Malrick made sure Natasha was ready, he took her hand, soared into the sky, and pierced through the clouds.

The acceleration shattered the sound barrier in seconds.

Even with Natasha's usual calm, she couldn't help but scream in surprise.

In her 24 years, she had survived the harshest training, piloted the fastest jets, disguised herself as royalty—but this? This was her first time experiencing a supersonic flight without any protection.

"This has to be at least a thousand meters above the ground. Why can I still breathe and talk normally? And why aren't we being shredded by the wind?" she asked, taking it all in with wide eyes.

"Because I released a bio-force field," Malrick answered simply.

He looked up at the sky. "The altitude here is still too low. If we go any faster, it'll affect the environment. We need to go higher."

"How high can we go?" Natasha asked, amazed.

"You'll see." Malrick grinned, then surged upward with her again.

"Ahhh!" Natasha let out a startled yell, but she quickly adapted. Soon she was laughing, shouting into the wind like she was on a rollercoaster.

They soared all the way to the stratosphere.

Moonlight spilled across the sky.

Below them, a blanket of clouds stretched endlessly, their flat surfaces bathed in a soft, bluish-white glow.

Natasha stared at the view. The boundless sea of clouds beneath the moon made it feel like they were adrift in a dream. No landmarks. No reference points.

Suddenly, something hit her.

When flying a fighter jet, she could always rely on satellite positioning to navigate.

But now, flying with just her body?

No navigation at all.

"Malrick! Do you even know where you're going?" she shouted over the wind.

Malrick gave her a strange look. "Of course I do. Why? You planning to give me directions to the Red Room?"

"…," Natasha looked at him, then paused. "What if I told you I don't know where the Red Room is? Could you still find it?"

"You were trained there, controlled there, completed missions for them—and you don't know where it is?" Malrick looked even more puzzled.

Natasha's voice softened. "The Red Room is an old covert agency. It's not something the world knows about."

"To maintain secrecy," she continued, "we were sedated after every mission."

"So… I really don't know where it is."

"But someone might."

She paused in thought. "I had an adoptive father—Alexei. He was the second Red Guardian. Like a Soviet version of Captain America. He might know something. We could—"

"No thanks," Malrick interrupted.

"It'd be better for you to reunite with your family after you're free."

"Otherwise, I'd just be some random guy tagging along awkwardly while you all cry and catch up."

He didn't need help finding the Red Room anyway.

Alexei—at least based on what Malrick remembered from the movie—was more comic relief than source of real intel. He'd offered Natasha and Yelena a home, but he hadn't known much about the Red Room's operations.

"So, how do you plan to find it? Using your AI butler—Jarvis?" Natasha asked.

"No," Malrick replied. "I use my eyes and ears."

His gaze stretched across continents—he had already locked onto the Red Room's location.

Natasha blinked in disbelief. "Super hearing and super vision? You have those too!?"

"You saw the suit. Didn't you figure I'd have abilities similar to Superman?" Malrick smirked.

"People guess that, but it's hard to believe something that insane."

She studied him carefully. "So are you actually a Kryptonian? Or just a massive Superman fan who gave himself powers through experiments?"

She analyzed quickly. "Stark's dad worked on the super soldier serum, so I guess it's not impossible the current generation made a… superman serum."

Malrick gave her a look. "Your idea of 'reasonable' is wildly off."

"So how did you become Superman?" Natasha asked, eyes narrowed. "Your medical tests were all normal."

"You'll find out eventually." Malrick smiled cryptically.

Suddenly, his expression shifted—his ears twitched slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

"Hold on tight. I can hear your boss in the Red Room losing it because he can't contact you. We need to move—fast."

"You want to drop me off before he blows a gasket?" Natasha laughed. "He might even thank you."

"I'm counting on it. Can't wait to see his face."

Malrick shot forward, slicing through the sky with a sonic boom. The air pressure parted like a curtain, revealing an endless sea of clouds.

Protected by the bio-field, the winds that could cut steel barely ruffled Natasha's hair—they felt like spring breezes.

It was like wearing a VR headset while strapped to a missile. Her senses didn't match—the world was surreal.

"Oh my God, this is incredible!" she exclaimed again.

Their speed shot past Mach 50—climbing over ten kilometers per second.

The sky blurred. The stars came closer.

Natasha noticed something: the North Star was inching toward the top of her vision.

"Are we heading north? The Red Room's in the Arctic Circle?" she asked.

Malrick replied, "More precisely, above the Arctic Ocean… we're almost there."

As they dove downward, Natasha's breath caught in her throat.

She had never seen the Red Room's full structure—it had always been cloaked in secrecy.

To her, it represented death, isolation—a towering wall between her and the rest of the world.

But now she was finally going to face it.

And she wasn't alone.

Malrick—this godlike force from the sky—was her sword and shield.

She knew the Red Room wouldn't stand a chance.

Today would mark the end of her past.

But even knowing that, her heart trembled.

She wasn't thinking about revenge or destruction.

To her, it was a mission. One she was willing to die for if it meant finishing it.

Now that it was nearing completion, she wondered if she had any purpose beyond that.

She felt like a puppy about to be adopted—no longer locked in a cage, staring through glass at a world she couldn't reach.

Freedom was close.

But what came next?

She'd finally be able to feel the sun on her skin. Walk barefoot on grass.

But her eyes, unused to daylight, might flinch.

Her hands, stained by the past, might hesitate to touch anything pure.

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