World Traveler Villain

{Chapter: 312 Escape from Death}

In the depths of a dust-choked underground parking garage, dim light barely filtered through the cracks in the concrete. Layers of debris had buried everything in sight. At the far corner, crushed under a twisted mess of steel and stone, was a sleek green sports car—its once-glossy exterior now dulled and scorched by time and force.

Inside the vehicle, two women stirred.

Natasha Romanoff let out a tired sigh and leaned her head back against the headrest, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Well, I guess this is what they mean by 'underground operations.' Trapped in the dark, buried alive. Lovely."

Beside her, Maria Hill shifted slightly, wincing at the pain in her side. She managed a weak smirk. "I'm still deciding whether we're lucky... or just too stubborn to die."

"Lucky that we're breathing," Natasha muttered, her voice dry. "Unlucky that we're boxed in under a mountain of concrete. At this point, it's like dying in slow motion."

A low rumble echoed faintly in the distance—dull, powerful, and unnervingly deep.

Natasha's expression hardened. "That tremor… the explosion that followed… it wasn't ordinary. The kind of pressure it sent through the earth—if I had to guess, I'd say it was a nuclear detonation."

Maria's face grew grim. "It was," she said with certainty. "I know that sound. You don't forget it. Only a nuke carries that kind of weight. New York… it's gone. Reduced to ash. All thanks to that arrogant bastard—William."

A cold gleam lit Natasha's eyes, her fingers curling into fists. "William… that name alone makes my blood boil. He's behind this? Then I'm not dying here. Not in the dark. Not without making him pay."

Maria turned to her, her voice steady but fierce. "Letting him walk away after this would be a mistake history won't forgive. If there's even a sliver of a chance to survive, we take it."

Natasha nodded sharply, her old fire returning. "Then let's start with this car. Might be a long shot, but I'm not ready to be buried yet."

Maria gave a thin smile. "Trying beats waiting to suffocate."

With limited room and even more limited tools, they began to work—adjusting wires, bypassing security protocols, rewiring circuits. Their movements were clumsy at times, restricted by the space and dust, but both women had trained under pressure. They'd been through worse.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of struggle, the car's console blinked to life, and the engine coughed, then roared.

Both women stared in momentary disbelief before exchanging a glance.

"No way," Natasha whispered, then let out a relieved laugh. "We're alive. The car works. Maybe fate isn't cruel all the time."

Maria grinned, her eyes sparking with newfound determination. "Maybe. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. You drive. I'll navigate… assuming we can even go anywhere."

Natasha gave the accelerator a cautious press, and the engine growled in response. The tires spun, grinding over rubble, displacing rock and ash. The vehicle lurched forward, inch by inch, chewing through the tomb around them.

"This thing's a beast," Natasha muttered, impressed. "Didn't think a sports car could plow through half a parking garage."

"Probably wasn't designed to," Maria replied dryly, bracing herself against the dashboard. "But I'm not complaining."

They continued inching forward, the car crawling over crushed columns and broken concrete beams. The deeper Natasha pushed the pedal, the more resistance gave way.

"Keep going, don't stop," Maria said suddenly, eyes focused ahead.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Was that motivational or suggestive?"

"Just drive."

An hour passed.

Then, with a sudden jolt, the car surged forward. The earth above them cracked—then shattered. A burst of scorched air rushed in as the vehicle broke through to the surface in a plume of smoke and debris. The green car soared over three meters into the air before slamming back down onto the devastated ground.

For a moment, there was silence.

And then laughter.

"Haha! We're out!" Natasha shouted, gripping the wheel tightly. Her chest rose and fell with every breath, but her smile was wild and full of fire. "We're alive, and William is going to regret not finishing the job."

"Damn right," Maria breathed, letting herself lean back for the first time in hours. "We're still standing. Barely, but we are."

Their laughter died quickly.

Smoke still curled into the sky like fingers of death. All around them, the land was scorched and broken. Ash rained like snow. The distant city skyline was gone—no buildings, no people, no landmarks. Just the ghost of what had once been New York.

"This… isn't a city anymore," Maria said quietly. "It's a graveyard. Nothing's left."

Natasha stared out at the landscape. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice carried no sorrow. "From this moment on, there is no New York. Not on the map. Not in memory. It's been erased."

Maria turned toward her. "Doesn't this bother you at all?"

Natasha didn't look back. "I was never a New Yorker. But I know what it means to lose everything. And I know what comes next."

Maria took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Then let's make sure someone pays."

Natasha started the car again. "Oh, someone will. I promise you that."

Suddenly, a calm yet synthetic voice echoed from within the vehicle.

"Two future mistresses, the nuclear contamination in this region has reached critical levels. Prolonged exposure may result in acute radiation sickness. For your safety, I must now evacuate you from this area."

Maria's eyes widened in disbelief. Her hand instinctively reached for a concealed weapon she no longer had. "Who said that? Who's speaking?!"

"The vehicle you are currently occupying… is me," the voice replied evenly. "My designation is Crosshairs. I am a sentient assigned to ensure your survival. Please remain seated. I am initiating extraction protocol."

The sleek green car surged forward, weaving through the cratered landscape with supernatural precision.

Natasha, arms crossed as she leaned back against the seat, remained composed. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she showed no signs of panic. "Great. Another talking car. Just what we needed," she muttered sarcastically.

Natasha was much calmer. After all, she had ridden in the Lamborghini that William, the scumbag, turned into.

"What's going on?" Maria shouted.

"Reminds me of the time William turned into a a Lamborghini for fun 'fun'"

Maria glanced over, her voice edged with suspicion. "You've ridden in something like this before?"

Natasha gave a tight nod. "Yeah. Wasn't a fan then, either."

---

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the still-smoldering wasteland, a pale figure in a flowing white dress walked barefoot across the cracked, radioactive ground. The world burned around her, but the girl seemed unfazed—untouched by the decay.

"William…" she whispered, scanning the blackened skyline. "That bastard better not be dead. He hasn't even apologized properly yet."

She didn't have to wait long.

"Who are you calling dead?" came a smooth voice.

White Queen turned sharply. William stood there, flanked by Alice and Ada, both of them battle-worn but standing tall. The moment she saw him, her controlled expression cracked.

"There you are," she said, voice trembling slightly—equal parts rage and relief. "You heartless bastard. Do you have any idea what I went through? I almost died waiting for you!"

William approached with a half-smile, arms open. "Really? My fault, my fault. Let's fix that."

He pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her close as she resisted for all of two seconds before melting into his arms.

"I swear, you only show up after the drama's over," she muttered, resting her head against his chest.

William chuckled, patting her gently. "It's okay now. I'm here. I take responsibility… for everything."

"You should," she said with narrowed eyes, then pinched his rear with both hands. "But don't think I'm letting you off easy."

"Ow—hey!" He released her with an awkward laugh. "You're stronger than you look, you know?"

William hugged White Queen tightly. "White Queen, I'm sorry, I'm very sorry. I left a shadow on your young heart. It's my fault. Hit me."

"Let go, I can't breathe. Don't be hypocritical. I don't know you yet." White Queen pinched William's buttocks with both hands.

"You should've known that by now." She folded her arms and looked up at him. "Anyway, since you care so much… where's your concern for the other women you've been collecting as wives?"

"Maria and Natasha?" William asked, already guessing where this was going.

The White Queen smirked, tilting her head. "Maybe they're dead. Maybe they got caught in the blast while you were busy showing off."

William raised an eyebrow. "You're lying. You've got that smug look again. Where are they?"

"Tch. You're no fun." She sighed, flicking her hair back. "Crosshairs got them out. He's probably playing lakeside guardian somewhere, like a dumb robot poet. Want to go see them?"

"Of course. Give me the location."

The White Queen pouted. "Look at you, jumping at the chance to reunite with your women. Do you even miss me?"

"Did I or did I not just get a death-grip hug out of you?" William teased. "You're spoiled, honestly."

With a snap of her fingers, the White Queen conjured a location in front of them

"Fine. Go on, then. I'll catch up later."

---

At the edge of a quiet, shimmering lake—one of the few remaining places untouched by destruction—a large black Transformer sat cross-legged, staring pensively at the water's surface. Sunset light glinted off his metallic armor, casting long shadows across the grass.

Crosshairs looked lost in thought, reflecting on something deeper than machinery should allow.

That peace didn't last.

"Crosshairs!" A voice thundered like a metal gong striking stone, shattering the calm. "Where the hell are Maria and Natasha?!"

Crosshairs flinched slightly and turned his head. "Boss! I—I am… deeply ashamed. Due to high levels of radiation, my internal systems suffered significant interference. I… regret to inform you they escaped. They shattered the passenger window and ran."

"You let them escape?!" the White Queen's voice rose again as she stepped through the portal behind William. "One job. You had one job."

Crosshairs lowered his head. "They are resourceful women. Extremely resilient."

A beat passed. William smiled faintly.

"Of course they are," he said.

*****

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