The Magus In Marvel

The team moved cautiously through the camp, their footsteps muffled against the dust-covered ground. Tony's HUD flickered as he scanned the surroundings, his brow furrowing in frustration.

"This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves, not even radio," Tony muttered, lowering his repulsor slightly. His scanners picked up nothing—no electronic activity, no active power sources. "Either HYDRA developed a new way to be invisible, or we just hit a very expensive brick wall."

Clint scoffed. "So much for all-powerful AI. You'd think JARVIS would've caught something."

"Hey, don't blame my tech just because HYDRA decided to play hide-and-seek," Tony shot back. "Maybe they finally learned subtlety. Took them long enough."

Steve, however, had noticed something ahead—a building that stood out against the rest of the abandoned landscape. His expression darkened with suspicion. "What is that?" he asked, gesturing toward the lone structure.

As they approached, Steve's gaze swept the perimeter, his instincts tingling with recognition. "Army regulations forbid storing ammunition within five hundred yards of the barracks," he explained, stepping forward. "This building is in the wrong place."

Sam crossed his arms. "You think it's just a misplaced storage unit, or are we looking at something more fun?"

Without hesitation, Steve pulled his shield free and wedged it against the rusted lock, popping it open with ease. The door groaned as it swung inward, revealing an office space shrouded in dust and time. The room was eerily intact, as though frozen in history, untouched by the decades that had passed.

Natasha's eyes darted around the interior, scanning the symbols and faded insignias on the wall. "This is S.H.I.E.L.D.," she noted, stepping further inside.

Steve inhaled deeply, nodding. "Maybe where it started."

They moved deeper into the room, their eyes landing on framed portraits lining the walls. The dust barely dulled the sharp gazes of the people captured in black and white—Howard Stark, Peggy Carter, and Col. Chester Phillips, their expressions locked in history.

Natasha's gaze flicked over the images before resting on one in particular. "There's Stark's father."

Steve barely nodded, his gaze lingering longer than the others. "Howard."

Natasha's voice softened as she pointed to another figure. "Who's the girl?"

Steve didn't answer. He turned away, swallowing back old memories as he pressed forward into the room. His fingers trailed along the dusty furniture before stopping in front of a massive bookshelf, something about it catching his eye.

"If you're already working in a secret office…" he muttered, his hands pressing against the worn wood. With a firm push, the heavy shelf groaned and slid aside, revealing a hidden elevator embedded within the wall. He stepped back, exchanging a look with Natasha and Tony. "Why do you need to hide the elevator?"

Without another word, they stepped inside. The old metal doors shuddered closed behind them, sealing them into the unknown. The faint hum of machinery stirred to life, carrying them downward toward whatever secrets lay hidden beneath.

As the elevator descended, Tony exhaled, shaking his head. "You know, the more I see of S.H.I.E.L.D., the more I'm convinced that paranoia was their official company policy."

Natasha smirked. "Surprised?"

"Not at all. Just really hoping there's not another secret underground lair inside this one." Tony sighed dramatically. "Because I did not bring enough sarcasm for that."

The elevator came to a stop, revealing a dimly lit room lined with ancient-looking computers. Tony frowned. "This can't be the data-point. This technology is ancient."

Then, he noticed a small flash drive port. Without hesitation, he placed a drive into it, triggering the dusty computers to whir to life.

A mechanical voice crackled through the room. "Initiate system?"

Natasha leaned in, typing on the old keyboard. "Y-E-S spells yes." She smirked as the machine sputtered and came online. "'Shall we play a game?'" she quoted. Then, glancing at Steve, she added, "It's from a movie that—"

"Yeah, I saw it," Steve interrupted, watching warily as a screen flickered to life.

Then, an accented voice echoed through the room.

"Rogers, Steven. Born 1918. Romanoff, Natasha Alianovna. Born 1984. Anthony Edward Stark, born 1970. Rin Tohsaka, origin unknown. Nicholas Joseph Fury, born 1950. Clinton Francis Barton, born 1970."

An old camera moved above them, scanning each of them in turn.

"Ah," the voice continued. "I have unexpected guests."

Tony clapped his hands together. "Hey, hey, wait! Can we go back to the creepy introductions? I wanna do one myself!" He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Arnim Zola. Died, 2012."

The voice—Dr. Arnim Zola—responded, unimpressed. "Stark. It seems that your presence is the reason I am unable to bring some entertainment for our guests here."

Tony smirked. "I aim to please."

Steve ignored the banter. "What's on this drive?"

"Project Insight requires insight," Zola replied. "So I wrote an algorithm."

Natasha's brows furrowed. "What kind of algorithm? What does it do?"

Zola's voice took on an eerie amusement. "The answer to your question is fascinating. Unfortunately, you shall be too dead to hear it."

A tense silence fell over the room. Muscles tightened, hands hovered over weapons.

Then, abruptly, Tony burst out laughing.

"I can't do it anymore!" he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "Guys, come on. Did you really think I wouldn't prepare for this? I mean, I've known about Zola for the longest time—well, except for Rin, I guess. So obviously, I made countermeasures for anything and everything a digital lifeform could do. And all of them?" He gestured toward the screen. "They went into action the moment I plugged in that flash drive."

He turned to Steve. "Go ahead, Cap. Say goodbye to your old friend."

Zola's voice wavered, glitching as his system began to break down. "Well played… but my death will not be of much significance. Cut off one head… and two more shall take its place."

The screen flickered violently before going dark.

Tony dusted off his hands. "Yep. That's not gonna get old."

Clint crossed his arms. "Well, that was anti-climactic."

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, I get you. Having future knowledge is great, but from what Rin explained, life-threatening fights turned out to be problems that could be solved with just a little preparation."

Rin spoke calmly. "Don't get too comfortable. The threats after HYDRA… they won't be as easily handled."

Tony clapped his hands. "Alright, enough doom and gloom. Let's move before Zola pulls a horror movie jump-scare."