Malrick realized that Natasha wasn't joking and dropped his smile.
"…Alright, no need to get so serious. I was just ssing around. I take back what I said—it was out of line."
He waved toward the chanical arm. "Hey, bring this lady so more coffee."
Now it was Natasha's turn to be surprised.
"Are you apologizing to ? Honestly… you're not what I expected."
"Apologizing? No, you misunderstood. I'm just being polite. I wouldn't joke about that kind of thing in public," Malrick said defensively.
Natasha looked at him with curiosity. "That's… unexpected. You really don't co off like a Stark at all."
"Maybe that's because I had a different kind of education than the typical Stark."
Malrick raised his glass and clinked it gently against Natasha's. "But flattery won't get you anywhere."
"You broke in here, ambushed , and I still helped you despite everything. Now you're scheming again. A few nice words won't fix that."
"…You're not wrong." Natasha gave a faint smile and took a sip of her hot coffee. "Still, I ant what I said. It's rare to hear soone speak like that. It's... refined."
"Appreciate the complint. It's part of my branding." Malrick shrugged.
"I bet that kind of branding works well with teenage girls," Natasha teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe… Now, how about we talk about you—and the Red Room?"
"What do you want to know?" Natasha straightened, stepping away from the counter. "If this is the price of my rescue, I'll tell you what I can."
"Just one thing: how did you fall under the Red Room's control again, a year and a half ago?"
It was the question that had been bothering him for too long.
He hadn't forgotten. Not just because of Natasha—but because it was tied to his understanding of the universe he was in. Everything he did for her was part of figuring that out.
"How was I controlled…" Natasha stared into her cup, dazed, her expression tightening with unease.
To her, that ti felt like a lifeti ago.
She had committed atrocities under the Red Room's influence. By comparison, the years when she acted of her own free will felt almost rciful.
Being asked to recount it was like ripping open a wound that hadn't healed. It would've been easier to walk into gunfire.
But after a long pause, she started.
"I was trained and conditioned in the Red Room as a child. We were all brainwashed."
"But I resisted. Sohow, I held onto my will."
"When I finally saw a chance to rebel—I took it. But I failed."
Her eyes beca distant as she stared at the coffee rippling in her cup, her mind elsewhere.
"After that, they stopped relying on brainwashing. They began using chemicals for control. That's how it happened."
She made it sound simple, like stuffing an elephant into a fridge: just open the door, and push it in.
Malrick got to the point. "You're highly trained. Why did your rebellion fail?"
In the original tiline, Natasha should have t Hawkeye around 2006, joined him on a mission in Budapest, and eventually defected to S.H.I.E.L.D.
This was clearly a deviation.
"You can't imagine how powerful the Red Room really is. Their reach is global. The Widows are everywhere."
Natasha's shoulders slumped. "Almost two years ago, Hawkeye from S.H.I.E.L.D. ca after . I tried to use that as a chance to contact them."
"Only…"
She looked up at Malrick.
"It was because of you."
"?"
"In 2006, your StarkTech company launched a revolutionary electronic device. The Red Room reverse-engineered it and upgraded their internal surveillance systems."
She turned away slightly. "So when I contacted Hawkeye… I was being watched the entire ti. I didn't know."
"My gear only had basic anti-surveillance protections."
"No one expected Red Room tech to leap forward that fast."
Malrick's lips twitched. So she'd been caught because she was using outdated gear.
Civilian tech was always a generation behind military-grade hardware.
In 2006, Tony had been inspired by Malrick and started using tech that had previously only existed in military applications—launching it into the consur market.
For a month straight, Stark Industries unveiled groundbreaking new devices every day. It was like the world jumped from flip phones to smart devices overnight.
Even comrcial holograms hit the market.
Malrick still rembered Obadiah ranting that Tony was burning through valuable tech too quickly. "Good tech should be released bit by bit," he had said. "Maximize the profits."
"Well… that's modern tech for you." Malrick took a sip of coffee to cover his awkwardness. "One mont it's obsolete, the next it's everywhere."
Natasha gave him a look. "If StarkTech had waited just six months to release that device… I might've escaped. Maybe even taken the Red Room down with ."
"…You're right." Malrick sighed. "Though none of it makes sense, we can always bla Tony. Why did he even launch a new division for no reason?"
It turned out, the universe wasn't fundantally broken.
It was just the butterfly effect—his butterfly effect—that sent shockwaves through the tiline.
And yet, no one had co to confront him about it. No Ti Variance Authority. No Ancient One.
Which honestly confused him.
Still, as far as he could tell, this was the MCU he rembered.
As long as it wasn't the comics universe, things could still be fixed.
"What happened next?" he asked.
"After my defection attempt was exposed, I was ambushed by the other Widows and dragged back."
"I spent six months imprisoned. Then they began using chemical control."
"I had no choice. Over the past year, even though I could still think for myself, my mind was split. I couldn't tell which thoughts were truly mine."
Natasha turned away slightly and wiped her eyes without a word.
"In just ten months, I killed more people than I had in the past ten years."
"There were children who couldn't walk yet. Pregnant won. Powerful leaders."
"My hands are stained with blood," she said, lowering her head.
Malrick instinctively wanted to offer comfort—but stopped himself.
Natasha didn't need comfort.
She was strong—stronger than most. But because of that strength, her guilt ran deeper than most could understand.
"What do you want to do now?" Malrick signaled Benben for another refill.
"Thanks." Natasha took the fresh cup and looked him in the eyes.
"If possible… I'd like your help."
"I don't want to pull you into this war, but could you make an inhibitor? Or even just a formula. Sothing I can use to save the others. I promise I'll repay you."
Malrick rubbed his chin. "Making an inhibitor's not hard, but…"
"You're planning to break out a few Widows, build up a force, then launch a full-scale assault on the Red Room?"
Honestly, he wanted soone to hit the Red Room.
Tony had just revealed the Iron Man armor, and the Red Room responded by sending Natasha to kidnap him.
If Tony held a press conference tomorrow to announce he was Iron Man?
Who knew what the Red Room would try.
Any force that reckless needed to be shut down—for good.
So if Natasha wanted to burn it all down… he was happy to help.
Natasha stood straighter. "Yes. That's exactly my plan, Mr.… Mr. Stark, please believe . I will—"
"Just call Malrick. After everything you've shared, I'd say we're at least friends."
Natasha blinked, then nodded. "Malrick…"
"Alright. Listen." He tapped the table for emphasis.
"Your idea is solid—but risky."
"Once you go dark, and the others start disappearing, the Red Room will catch on. Fast. And they won't go easy on you."
"I know," Natasha said, shaking her head. "But I have to try. It's my… responsibility."
"Responsibility…" Malrick mused. Then his eyes lit up. "Actually, that gives an idea. A win-win… no, a win-win-win situation."
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