Chapter Text
Silence
Silence was this river’s bliss
A river of uninterrupted stillness with an endless flow
It’s water was peaceful, untouched by man or God himself, he cannot touch this river
That silence breaks
A body raises from the deep, spinning like a ballerina. Water droplets scattershot and fly loosely as his arms drop to his and his head tilted, as if he was dozing off from a tiresome day.
His eyes flutter open to only see nothing, to feel no air running between his wounds and hair, only the wetness that covered his deranged body and pooling near his lower legs.
A feminine voice starts filling this emptiness, singing a song that hasn’t not been created.
Let the river carry you back to me
He looks around, finding the source of this voice as she continues. He sees nothing.
Mama will be there in the morning
Small dots of lights begin to glisten and shine. Shades of white and blue and yellow begin to color the colorless sky, and paint a galaxy above him.
Last night, under bright strange stars
We left behind the men that caged you and me
Constellations of dust and stars formed before him. They formed into three people. A mother and two boys, one taller than the other.
The voice was telling a story
Running towards a promise land
He started walking down the river, the water gently clashing and washing up against his legs;a weird sensation creeping in near his left eye.
Mama will be there in the morning
He walked as he saw new constellations of these people appear. She has her children huddled closely to her; hunched as if she was telling them a secret.
Trust nothing in this strange, strange land
A familiarity clung onto him
He wanted to speak out, ask questions into the void. He opened his mouth to get a word out before a hand touched his shoulder.
Be a mouse and do not use your voice.
The voice changed into a more masculine tone. He looked up to see this person’s face, only to see a lack of any details. No nose, no mouth, not even eyes. A mannequin’s head. Though, they had a weird pigment of burgundy on it’s throat.
River tore us apart, but I’m too far ‘cause
Mama will be there in the morning
A sudden weight was being pressed against his chest. He blinks in response; the feeling of being watched showers over him as he looks over his shoulder.
There is nothing but nothing and black water
Bright light began to radiate from behind. He shields his eyes to see but once the light begins to die down to an acceptable hue, he is standing in front of a mural of some sort.
In one picture frame, it was a family of four it seemed. One of the figures was darkened and was creaked in the head.
Another frame showed a city. It was surrounded by three land masses as bridges connected them.
The last frame showed the three people from before, only now there was more emphasis on the youngest. There are multiple sizes of the child, it was displaying the child growing up. He walked up to the tallest illustration of the child, to see that he was directly at eye level with it. A chill runs down his spine.
Do you still dream? Do you? Do you sleep still?
Images start manifesting in his head. A graduation from some sort of school, a car on its side, strange pyramid looking spaceships, a man with another man.
He motions as if he was about the throw up. He steps back; chest rising and falling as if he just ran for several miles nonstop. He tries to grip and claw at his chest. He still can’t get a word out, just thinking loudly in his head.
He walks away from the mural and down the river — or up it? The lack of sun or light is making it very difficult. But he thinks he’s going down it.
The voice still sang it’s mysterious story. Something about ‘I filled my pockets full of stones and sink’ That one sentence still echoes through his head. ‘Mama will be there in the morning’ His right hand twitches slightly. Eyes locked onto the water and his brain working overtime, trying to make sense of any of this; that was until he felt a sharp pain in his back and quickly look behind him.
There is nothing but nothing and black water
He drags himself to look forward only to see a gruesome scene before. There were three rooms that were connected. The room on the left, had gray walls and that shade of green associated with the army. On the ground was a man in uniform as blood was sweeping out his body and pooling around him. He couldn’t see the man’s face.
The room on the right was a hospital room. At its center was an operating table, blood splatter on the covers and floor. A machine beeping the flat-line sound. The body on the table also had their face covered. Standard rules for hospitals to follow.
The center room was an alleyway. Two street lights but only one was actually lit. It looked like any other alleyway, trash cans and dirty walls from the buildings. At the dead end of the alley, was a boy.
He was laying straight on the concrete. He was wearing chunky shoes, dark grey jeans and had a lighter grey hoodie on. There was a backpack not too far from him. In his hand was a pill bottle, a few spilled on the ground.
He can feel his body shut down from the display. The whole body started to twitch, like tics running rampant. Hunching over, trying to make himself small and hands wrap around his head, trying to silence…something.
The voice spoke again, now directly talking to him.
The river murdered you and now take it takes me
He now limps away. He tries to focus on something to regain his footing. The ripples in the water, the dots in the sky. He chooses to focus on the voice. He easily repeats that one haunting phrase.
“Mama will there in the morning”
Mama will be there in the morning
He walks and walks, just listening to the voice, it suddenly sounds familiar.
You may not know me, because I’ve change, Ooh I changed
But mama will not stop looking for her baby
When the river, takes the river gives
And mama will search as long as she loves
The river’s narrow road turns into a lake. He stops and stumbles at the change. He looks up to see if anything new has appeared.
There's nothing but nothing and black water, and a woman at the center of the lake.
Brows furrow and eyes trying to focus on this woman. His heart sinks. He no longer feels the need to breathe. That pressure on his chest is no longer a concern. He spoke, hesitantly, not sure if his mind is playing tricks. He only said one word.
“A Ma?”
The woman heard his whisper, turned, and faintly smiled.
“A Ma!”
His legs have never moved faster before. The voice still speaks and sings in the background but is blurred out. Her arms are spread out as he crashes into her. Tears free fall and streak his face. He breathes heavily as eyes scans over her.
She only smiled as she spoke out, leaving him confused.
“Mama will be there in the morning!”
She was beginning to fade from his arms as she returns to being dust and stars, going back into the sky of other stars and bright dots. He tries to clutch her harder, trying to grounder her back to him. It was failing. She was slipping from his hands.
He can only watch as a collection of dust takes her back to the sky. His eyes widened and watered. His arms outstretched to the heavens. Fingers twitch and tremble trying to grasp anything, to bring her back.
The sensation from his left eye amplifies as he clutches it with one arm. There's a pain in his stomach, he slithers the other one around it.
His cries are more sloppy, raw, almost primal. He lets out a yelp, before his hand hovers at this throat. He breathes fast as he muster enough air and screams.
If there was any other soul in this plane to hear his wails and screams, they would think he’s getting murder.
There is no one but nothing and black water and sounds of pain.
As he screams, ripples start skipping in the water, vibrations in the river. His screams go from something human to now something distorted and unnatural. A ring of white flames erupted at the edge of the pond.
He's now fully hunched over, gripping his stomach as if he got stabbed, trying to stop the blood from leaving his body. His screams hit the water and he can see the water being split open, only to see more water beneath the surface line.
What felt like an eternity of endless wailing, he gives out one last scream as his hands go up to this throat, not touching, just hovering. The second the scream dies from his mouth; he drops to his knees, only looking to the sky. He gently sways to the right before re-balancing himself back up.
There is nothing but nothing and black water.
And a boy, who shouldn’t be alive.
One day after the siege on Wakanda
Exhaustion doesn’t even feel like the right word to use. They just feel.
They feel joyless
They feel aimlessly
They feel pain
They feel…just feel
The King has offered personal quarters to the Avengers, a way of showing gratitude and a true friend. Only after a good rest and some time to process the last 48 hours, would they debrief.
Midday, with the Sun perfectly hanging above the city; casting long shadows of golden skyscrapers and Wakandan architecture. Peter came out of his room, courtesy of T’Challa, he wanted to see if he can get permission to walk through one of the many gardens in the palace. He was aimlessly walking around until he spotted Wanda, perched up against an arched window.
He locks up at the sight of her, his breath gets caught in his throat. She’s looking down at the river circling the Citadel, the many gardens that spiral upwards and all over the grand building. Her face is obviously being obscured so Peter can’t see the dry tears that ran river down her cheeks.
Mustering what confidence he can, he slowly makes way to her. Though she already knew Peter was behind her, not from her magic or abilities, she grew to know everyone’s footsteps. She’s been with the Avengers for some time for now. They were her family now were they not? Not through blood but through tears of joy and pain. Missions that went south or were perfectly executed. Bonding through sparring or team dinners and activities.
Now, she’s the last of her bloodline. The only person her knew her truly had a glaive going through his chest and thrown to the side like trash.
“Peter, I know it’s you behind…” she said, calmly but a little vexed at his slow pace. She turns to see Peter’s face of worry dissolve to a more friendly one. His eyes immediately light up at her tone. ‘Ok maybe she’s not mad right now.’
They greet each other with a hug, it felt grounding: they slipped into a calming silence for a moment, overlooking the city below, before Peter confessed what's been on his mind.
"I'm sorry…about Pietro."
To him, it sounded like, "I'm sorry that my friend that I haven't seen in almost three years and who's being controlled by gods, had one of his minions kill your brother."
Wanda breaks sight from the window and turns to see Peter. Poor Peter looks like a kicked puppy in the rain. Eyelids heavy and shoulders slumped, head slightly tilted downward. She can see that this is chewing him up. In her mind, she wants to hunt down Odera through the cosmos and make him feel her pain but tenfold, plunge him into his own hell where he wished he can die. she has every right to be mad and angry at Odera. But then she thinks about Bucky.
She wouldn't dare compare Odera to Bucky. He went through more pain then other person in the Avengers — hell, the whole world, has gone through. Years of physical torment and psychological subjugation under HYDRA, him to be their asset, their perfect killing machine, their weapon.
Bucky had to go through 70 years of this.
70 years of deepfreeze
70 years of calibrations to be 'perfected'
70 years of being a personal plaything
Whatever Wakanda has offered him seems to be helping, but can it be enough? WILL it be enough? can three years of regaining your autonomy counter 70 years of pain and control?
Compared to what? Odera's possession of two years? What did he go though? How many people has he killed? What exactly did these 'Nine" do to him?
Wanda drops back to reality when she sees Peter getting worried from her lack of response, or even breathing. she lets go of her eyebrows she didn't even know they were furrowed. she blinks a few before responding.
"Thank you Peter. King T'Challa has offered to hold a funeral for him here." her voice calmed but with hints of defeated, and masking. Masking her anger perhaps.
"Yeah I-I heard about that, from Mr. Stark. But ho-how are you feeling?"
"I feel…I don't know. I don't know what to feel anymore." her voice cracks in the sliest. she closing her fists in the pockets of her jacket. her poker face shows sadness, but she wants to show her wraith, her rage, what she's actually feeling. But she doesn't. At least not around Peter.
But what they were saying was true, T'Challa has offered to hold a funeral for Pietro, alongside the others that have faced their demise from the siege. She is thankful that the King wants to ease the pain of losing someone by celebrating Pietro's bravery and his heroism as he stood against the enemy. it still doesn't feel right. Their last conversation was right before the mobile transport heading to the border. An inside joke, something in their mother tongue. They laughed like little children in that moment; before boarding things that could lead to their deaths.
Well, boarding things that did lead to their deaths. A death.
Once everyone was gather for dinner, Royal Family and Avengers a-like, they all felt into small talk with each other. Banner, Tony, and Shuri being the nerds they are, were discussing about nanobots. Steve, Bucky and Sam were bonding over some music artist. M'baku was teasing Peter for his size, something about "…little man can punch harder then most J'bari warriors".
Clint and Natasha were in their own little bubble, talking about the siege and the hunt.
"Wait so they literality uno reversed YOUR move, on you?"
A sip of water later, she smacks her lips and said
"Yep."
Vision couldn't help but ease in and give his opinion on how that happen. He believes that with the combination of someone of war, Odera must've inherited the skills and mastery of different bladed weapons. Memory serves right, and it should cause it hasn't been that long, Odera switched from using a staff to hand combat to a knife all swiftly and while fighting four people at the same time. both Clint and Natasha claimed, "they just got lucky." bruising their ego be damned. Natasha's ego at least, Clint was too busy collecting his arrows and seeing Wanda fight a giant robot that looks like a shadow.
Conversations were bright and full of emotions when one of the Dora Milaje on post turned her head out to the window, taking a step out of her station to get a closer look. Ayo, another member of the Dora and most closest to the Royal Family, was about to snap at the woman before she too look out to where the woman was staring at, and too stepped closer. She called out something in Xhosa to T'Challa and Ramonda, which made everyone turn their heads and body to her and the window.
There was a aurora borealis …in Wakanda.
Granted, this pheromonal can happen, but only in South Africa, not east. and certain not in Wakanda.
The aurora wasn't green like it's Northern Lights counterpart, they were white. They were a luminous white, like the Heavens themselves were manifesting right before their eyes. lighting up the Wakandan night sky.
"What in Bast name…" Queen Ramonda muttered to herself. Everyone has slowly made their way to the window, not up to the glass but still close enough.
The incandescence of these lights were spread through out the city, reaching to even the outside of it. The vibrant night life of the city has quiet downed as people were chattering in tones of curiosity and fear from the sudden change in the atmosphere. it was beautiful to witness, but something was off.
It was stretched across the city but there was a part of it more elongated then the rest, like it was pointing to something. this caught the attention of both Steve and Bucky. the thought is scattered as the sudden sound of a door slamming open and the rush of footsteps were echoing through the chamber.
A scientist, still in his attire despite it being long after the work hours, came to a halt before boding Shuri and starting talking , in Xhosa and even then it was too quick for the native speakers to catch up with him.
"What's he saying?" Tony inquired to T'Challa, the scientist still speaking to Shuri and a guarded Okoye.
T'Challa didn't turn his head to look at him in the eye but translated to Tony and the few Avengers in proximity. "He is saying that there is a sudden but slow raise in 'Light Energy' where we fought against those creatures."
"Light Energy?" Tony inquired once more which led T'Challa to ask, since he didn't know what that meant either. The scientist turned to face his King and briefly explained it, and turn back to Shuri and continue talking to her.
"He said with the rise of this 'Light Energy', the nearby vegetation and environment started growing expeditiously, like if 'Bast herself had blessed it to rid of the Demon's blood.'" Odera himself wasn't even in Wakanda and yet they already call him "Demon", how lovely.
The group of Avengers share a look between each other at the mention of the title 'Demon' before a pair of projection appeared before the dinner table. they were live cameras of the two Dragon Flyers on route to the location.
And lo and behold, the aurora was spread all the way out here too. from the siege.
clouds were covering the lights but they were still there. one Dragon Flyer was surveying the ground while the other position to look to the clouds. the surveying flyer was looming over charred grass and dried blood pools of both human and interdimensional entities. there was chatter between the pilot and Shuri, disusing the readings on the environment. To her shock, the scientist was telling the truth.
Okoye was talking with the other pilot before parts of the aurora starting glowing brighter. Now, both Dragon Flyers were now positioned to see the clouds and the aurora looming behind them.
small rays of white light was piercing the clouds as the flyers hovered in place as more shades of this fluorescent white were either dimming or brightening. The Avengers and Wakandans were studying the screens, trying to see anything for themselves, before they were all taken by surprise when a beam of light separated the clouds and made landfall.
The beam technically wasn't hitting the ground, it was only air hitting the ground, though the screens were telling a different story. Energy levels were now being overloaded, a caution triangle with an exclamation point was now covering the chart. A pilot was relaying what he was personally seeing back to Shuri, T'Challa and now Okoye. the pilot angled the flyer to see what the beam was hitting. all seemed normal till the ground sudden cracked open and out came…tree branches.
Everyone was now taken back, and honestly, straight up fucking confused.
The branches were albino white, with red leaves sprouting out of them. the branches were curling in the air or spreading the ground. the pilot angled towards the ground quickly changed positions as the other pilot was now claiming a body was falling from the sky.
The Wakandans all changed their facial expressions, leaving the Avengers in the dark before Bucky spoke up on what the pilot said. "He said a body was falling from the sky."
On screen, they can see someone spinning out of control, rapidly descending to the ground. a trail of shadow was emitted from their body along the way. On impact, a giant dome of dust and dirt and air was shock-waved from the impact site.
The dome of debris covers the lens of both cameras, obscuring the impact sight. All that is visible is black, brown…
…and a bright blue.
Voices at the dinner table go silent when this shade of blue appeared. The only sounds that are heard is breathing bodies and beating hearts, if you had heightened senses that is.
When the dust settles, the flyers turned on their floodlights and darted them to the person. The stranger raised an arm to block out the light from their face but once they got adjusted and lowered.
Everyone thought they were seeing a ghost. They thought their brains were playing tricks of them, but nope.
There he was
Odera, still in the armor when he was the Weapon.
Chest rising and falling. Eyes, going all over the place. One camera zoomed in on his face. His expression was thought of confusion and panic. His right eye was frantically looking at the flyer. His left eye, well it was hard to describe with the glowing blue scars around his eye socket and iris and pupil being two different shades of blue.
While some saw a friend, a civilian in need of help, or a direct mirror of who they were.
Okoye saw an enemy within Wakanda’s borders. And she was taught and disciplined to protect Wakanda and its people from the enemy.
She barked out something in Xhosa which to everyone shock, prompted Bucky to say at loud, “No, wait!” before the sounds of energy canons filled the room.
Both flyers started gunning down Odera, one even launched two missiles at him. Gasps left some mouths at the sight of this. When they seized fire, Okoye was expecting a lifeless Odera.
What she got instead was two transparent jagged pieces of earth coming out of the ground and angled to protect Odera. The pieces were shimmer with that texture of the spheres. They collapsed down to show Odera shield his face with his arms, making an X with them. He dropped the X and looked back up to the flyer, and back down to his arms. The zoomed camera captures his arms shaking as he looks back up to the hovering flyer, before he falls backwards and starts crawling backwards.
“Follow him but do not engage.” T’Challa said in English. The moment both flyers moved in an inch, Odera panicky stood got back up and started running. Both flyers changed from hover mode to flight to gain ground. Though they couldn’t see, a trail of shadow was coming off his body as he ran.
He was running straight to the barrier of Wakanda and instead of hitting the barrier, he was going through it. He was brute forcing his way through it. One hand covered his face while the other was stretched out in-front of him. The chitin plating his body started disintegrating little by little as he slowed inched his way out.
“How is he doing that?” Queen Ramonda’s question is left answered as everyone is glued to the screens.
Once he got through, he fell onto to his knees and hands before he quickly looked back to see the Dragon Flyers still in pursuit of him. he got back up and started running again.
Floodlights were moving side to side, trying to spot him, the only thing they can see is grass and trees. Once they made out of jungle and into the plains, they finally spot him running towards a mountain. Everyone was so focused on the screens that they didn’t see the aurora dissipate in the air, reverting back into the night sky.
Once a floodlight landed on him, everyone saw a trail of inky-shadow coming off of him. And damn was he moving.
“He’s faster than you, Cap.” Clint called out. Steve’s had his back turned on him which meant Clint could see the nervous swallow he took, but he has to admit, Odera has good form.
He swiftly cover ground as he was nearing the base of the mountain. The moon overhead was in its full phase meaning it was casting a shadow over the land, which included the mountain.
“Is he trying run up the mountain or into it?” Sam curiously asked out in the open. Unlike Queen Ramonda’s question that was unanswered, his question would shortly be answered, by Odera himself.
Merely a few feet away from the shadow of the mountain, Odera raised his arms again to his face, making that X from before. Now bracing for impact, he ran faster, harder, at the last second, he dolphin dive to into shadow. His body went through the ground as a rippling ringed through the whole shadow. Only leaving a few particles of his trailing shadow behind as evidence he was even there.
“Did he just-“
“Yep”
Everything looked like it was in greyscale
The mountain, the grasslands, even the sky. Everything was grey and black. Odera looked back to where those jets were, no where in sight.
It just him in this weird version of Earth, or III.
With no sense of direction, he goes back to where he arrived. An eerie silence throughout the whole journey. he noticed one thing, in this…realm, he moves faster then normal. When he got to his crash site, the ground was streaked with white cracks causing an aurora of white light.
He crouched down to put his hand in one of the cracks. It feels like nothing. It’s not burning hot or freezing cold. It’s just existing.
He senses…a city…a very opulent city with brimming with strange architecture and life. He feels the many different heartbeats and minds of the people of this grand city, but one has caught his attention. it was Peters.
Odera gave out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding in. His gaze falters slightly, in relief.
'Ok…I get to this city… and then…' His mind goes blank at his half-ass attempt of a plan because what in the actual fuck can he expect? He quite literally invade this place and sent an army to attack it. But it wasn't him, it was that thing, the Weapon. Anger spilled over his eyes. He was disgusted with himself, ashamed, uncomfortable that he was on the back-burner of his own head and saw all these unravel before him. The Emissary, the Weapon, it didn't matter.
It was Odera's voice and body that caused all of this.
But it was worth a shot to try.
he gets up from the crouched position and makes haste to the city. the whole world goes to blurs of grey and black. another thing that he noticed that there a heatwave-like filter in the realm, everything looked like it was in zig-zag but not to the point where anything was unrecognizable. Still made it a little dizzy to look at.
two minutes go by and he halts in the heart of this city, standing before what he assumes is the palace of this place. much to his surprise, he is able to climb up the walls and scale them with ease.
'So this is what Pete does…still can't believe he's the Spider-man.' His mind tries to remember what he can, before…the Nine.
it's a little hard when your chronorecpters have been altered to see the past, present, and future by nine different gods from the 4th dimension. Just a little.
He climbs over the edge to see the QuinJet, his mind spiraling at the sight of it.
'Oh my God that's th-the QuinJet! I remember seeing pictures of it during the Battle of New York…'
His mouth drops in amazement from the sight of it. Once again, little by little, he starts remember things before his death. His first death. He recalls liking that once military transport that flies. it had propellers like a helicopter but it was bigger, longer. his mind clicks
'The V-22 Osprey! Damn I can remember that?'
Despite not being in the same material plane as the jet, he glides a hand over its hull and can feel it. the smooth metal under his strange hand. Under its wing, he notices the ground below him.
He extended his hand to the strange stain, and it went through: it looked like his hand was going through water with that same ink affect. Nervous, he pulled his arm back and examined his hand, nothing new.
‘So that’s how I leave this place…’
He looks up to the grand building. He senses more of theses exist stains, there’s on near that familiar presence. He thinks, ‘what else can I do now?’
It’s strange, having your autonomy back, but something is still lingering.
Something Dreadful
He makes his way to the wall and puts his hand on it. And it feels…sticky. He cringes at the feel before an idea forms in his scattered mind. He places his other arm into the wall…
And climbs.
A smile of amazement comes across Odera's face as he scales the wall of palace. he climbs to the elevation that he feel Peter's energy is on. He tested if he can go through walls in this realm and he is successful and enters a grand hallway. Despite the gloomy affect all over this place, he can tell this hall is vibrant. The pictures that are mounted throughout it, the marbling on the wall and ceiling beautifully scattered, and the displays of artifacts and art pieces that are spread evenly.
A stain is reality is on the opposite wall is appearing; Odera tries to focus and locate where Peter could be on this level. He feels many others near Peter, two of them are very powerful in the aspect of a powerful mind.
''C'mon Odi, man up. We gotta try.' he hypes himself for a few seconds and makes his way to the stain. Mere inches away, he decides to first poke his head out to make sure the room is clear and unoccupied. He holds his breath and closed his eyes hard, not that he needs to, but it does help.
He opens them to see that he was right about the hall being vibrant. a few seconds of admiring the details of the hall, he darts his head left and right. the coast is clear. It's now or never.
He pushes the rest of his body into the material world and comes out in a hunched postilion, as if he catching his breath after a long run. He straighten himself and looks behind him to see where he came out of. 'So I guess shadows are it then.' he echoes the new information to himself.
'Time to find Petey…'
He wonders in the hall and turns the corner and stumbles right into two guards. the trio stumbles back and they all share a look of confusion and shock (mainly from the guards) before one shouts and the other goes on the offensive. A spear…or a club? A spear-club, fuck it.
A spear-club is swung on Odera all he does is duck and invade. He can see that the other guard touches something on his wrist before an alarm is sounded.
'Damn, even the alarms SOUND beautiful'
With the other guard now joining in, it's too overwhelming for him. A clean strike to his face and his cheek gets sliced, not deep but damn will it sting in a few. Causing him to fall to ground, Odera tries to crawl back and raise his hands in surrender. he tries to speak but nothing comes out, not a single sound. His eyes widen in anger and confusion at this.
'Damnit, why can't I speak?' It's almost painfully for him to try and sound out a word. The guards are unphased by this and advance on him, now with their weapons in a guarded hold, like trying to push something back in bay. They something in a language he doesn't understand.
He hears more footsteps, from both ends of the hall. 'Fuck, I immediately regard this.'
He needs to do something and quick. He knows Peter wouldn't hurt him, can't say the same about these guys and whoever the hell is running down the hall. He looks around trying to come up with a plan and sees nothing, not even a shadow close by. then he remember something, a move, that the other thing did back in the cave.
'Shit, if he can do it, why can't I?' With whatever courage he has left, he performs a starfish kip up and sends off those same ribbons of energy into the surrounding area, including the guards.
He quickly jogs to the other end of the hall only to halt at the sound of much more closer footsteps. He goes to the other hall and the same applies here.
He tries to back to the shadow he come from before the other end of the hall has now become with people. it's Peter…and the Avengers. He stops in his tracks to study them all. He can see Peter, Captain America, Tony Stark, a woman with red almost short curly hair and a man next to her. His eyes catches the sight of two bald-headed woman in red and brown, with spears pointed towards him.
Like survival instincts, he steps back at the sight of the women. Then, a man in very luxurious clothing of black, purple, and hints of gold, gesture them to lay down their spears. they hesitate, but do as he says.
"Odera, it's all right, you're OK." Captain America said, trying to ease Odera. he opens his mouth, an attempt to talk, but fails. His throat feels like knifes lodged in it, sharpened and jagged. He throws his head down in pain, trying to breathe out the pain.
"Can you not speak, Odera?" The Captain asked and in returned gets a shaky head. Not to say "No, I can't." but in "No, something isn't letting me." But they don't know that.
He brings his head back up to the Captain and his eyes land on the man behind him. His hair reaching to his collarbone, eyes the same shade of blue as Captain America, and a left metal arm. Odera's eyes travel from the man's arm, to his upper body, then to the eyes of this mysterious man.
'Why are you so fuckin' familiar…'
A surge of pain erupts from his left which causes him to yelp in pain. Odera couldn't see it, but his blue scars that plague his eye and face amplified in color and their glow intensified at the rhythm of his yelp. He drops his head down furthered then before and goes into a hunched stated, hands covering his face. He can hear someone call out his name; he doesn't — can't answer them. this sudden feeling of pain only lasted a few more seconds before the Avengers and Wakandans see Odera's body go eerily still. his hand slowly departs from his face before his shoots it back up to instantly lock eyes with one person.
Wanda
No one can sense what Odera can feel, only him.
And he feels something violent, something with murderous intend.
And it's coming from Wanda.
Her face is that of worry and concerned. Odera's is that of fear, being afraid. Wanda's eyes scan his face, trying to understand why she's looking at him, he thinks she trying to find a area to lodge a weapon in him. his breathing uncanny becomes uneven, almost hyperventilating. The Captain takes one step forward, at fatal error.
Odera quickly darts his eyes at what the Captain did and he raises his arms in defense, as if he trying to block out income debris. He's scared, not of Captain America, but of Wanda. His eyes go all over the place, trying to find a shadow to crawl and disappear.
Then he looks at the window.
Then back to the Captain. he slowly shakes his head he mouth "don't" not as a command, but as a plea. He tries to calm his breathing, shoulders raised and eyes go steady at the Captain's silent word.
and makes a break for it.
A trail of shadow comes off of Odera, only now it's coming out of his whole body. The Captain tries to intercept but it's like what Clint said earlier.
"He faster then you, Cap"
Odera braces for impact as his body goes throw the glass, not knowing that the Captain's hand was inches away from clutching him. Unlike before, his body isn't spinning out of control or limp-less. He's body is posed like he parachuting. the sudden change in the wall texture makes him look at a reflection of himself, where he finally sees his left eye. Blue, scarred, Nine-Touched.
He looks back down to see the darken silhouette of the QuinJet's shadow, and smiles.