The Hydra organization in Sokovia had long been destroyed.
The only one who could summon Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver now was Ultron.
"Don’t worry about him," Fenric said calmly. Let the Avengers and the Samsara players tangle with Ultron. Now’s not the ti to interfere.
His priority was clear—recruit more people.
Inside the Rolls-Royce Phantom, he gave his next order.
"Phantom, locate Stephen Strange, a neurosurgeon of so renown."
Stephen Strange.
The na wasn’t famous yet, but in the future he would be known across the multiverse as the Supre Sorcerer, Doctor Strange.
Yes, Fenric’s next target was none other than the future Sorcerer Supre.
At this stage, Strange was still an ordinary man, though with imnse potential. As the wielder of the mystic arts, his future combat power was unquestionable—worth the risk of Fenric’s attempt.
With ten recruitnt slots, Fenric could afford to gamble.
Less than ten seconds later, Phantom’s synthetic voice chid:
"Target located. Stephen Strange currently resides in Beverly Hills, Los Angeles."
Fenric’s brow lifted. Beverly Hills—the famous enclave of the wealthy, filled with sprawling mansions and celebrities.
"Phantom, book three first-class tickets to Los Angeles."
"Yes, Master."
Sokovia.
In the ruined church of the city, a dozen Samsara players gathered, guided by their system tasks. Each of their missions centered around Ultron.
A towering figure cloaked in black stood in the church’s center. Though his face was obscured, a pair of crimson eyes occasionally flickered from beneath the hood.
"Unexpected," the figure said, his voice tallic and amused. "Such capable beings in Sokovia."
He spread his arms. "I intend to reshape this planet. Are you interested in joining ?"
The Samsara players exchanged uneasy glances.
This is how he tries to recruit us? So half-hearted?
Still, for the sake of their mission, they answered in unison. "We are willing."
"Excellent."
The cloaked figure threw back his hood, revealing Ultron’s true form—a gleaming, two-ter-tall machine, his tal fra polished and deadly.
"From now on, obey my command," Ultron declared. "I will let you witness the birth of a new world."
The Samsara players agreed aloud, but when Ultron departed with a cold laugh, none of them followed.
They looked at one another, unease plain on their faces.
Finally, one muttered, "Which of us is the Shura God?"
Silence.
Faces darkened as realization struck.
If Shura wasn’t among them, he had to be with the Avengers.
"That’s bad."
"Yeah. Shura’s power is monstrous. How do we even fight him?"
"Thor and Hulk already rate at A-level strength. Add Shura, and that’s three A-level bosses in one camp. That’s suicide."
"Then we can only hope Ultron carries us through."
"Fortunately, my task doesn’t require fighting the Avengers directly. Brothers, if things go south, don’t bla for holding back."
Stark Tower.
At the sa ti, another group of Samsara players barged through security, defeating guards with ease.
Tony Stark, the Captain, and the others gathered, wary.
"Where the hell did these guys co from?" Tony muttered.
"I rember during the last battle in New York," Black Widow said, "there were strange individuals like them. After the Chitauri were defeated, they vanished."
Hawkeye asked, "Nat, are you saying these are the sa people?"
"Very possible," the Captain replied.
"Now they’re claiming they want to join the Avengers," Natasha added. "Should we take them seriously?"
The Captain thought it over. "They haven’t done anything wrong yet, and we could use the extra manpower."
The others exchanged glances and silently agreed.
"Actually—look at this."
Natasha produced a tablet, showing footage from airport surveillance taken half an hour ago.
Everyone leaned closer.
On the screen, two n and a woman passed through security.
The man at the lead was tall, strikingly handso, with the aura of soone far beyond ordinary.
The Avengers instantly recognized the two figures flanking him: the fast-moving man and the mysterious woman from Sokovia.
Their faces darkened.
Thor scowled. "I knew we shouldn’t have handed him the scepter!"
"Don’t jump to conclusions," the Captain cautioned. "You can’t lump Ronan together with those two. He couldn’t be Hydra."
Hawkeye’s eyes narrowed at the footage. "No. Look closely. Those two are following him. It looks like Ronan has turned them into his subordinates. The scepter can do that."
The Captain fell into thought. "Natasha, where’s their destination?"
"Los Angeles," Black Widow answered. "They boarded a flight there."
"Los Angeles?" Banner frowned. "What would Ronan want over there?"
"Doesn’t matter," Thor said grimly. "Keep a close watch. If he stirs up trouble, I’ll stop him myself."
This ti, no one argued.
Los Angeles.
By the ti Fenric’s group arrived, it was late at night. They had rested in first class, so fatigue was minimal.
Fenric decided to head straight for Strange’s residence.
With Phantom’s pinpoint location, the three took a taxi into Beverly Hills.
At the gates of Strange’s mansion, several security guards moved to question them—only to be swiftly subdued by Wanda and Quicksilver.
Fenric noted with amusent how convenient it was to have such attendants.
Inside, they followed Phantom’s guidance through a lavish, expensively decorated villa.
"Strange certainly isn’t living poorly," Fenric remarked, his gaze sweeping the luxurious interior.
But then he stopped abruptly, pupils contracting, his expression hardening.
On the sofa ahead sat a lone figure.
The Scarlet Witch noticed Fenric’s sudden change and followed his gaze.
A woman sat calmly in a beige robe. Her head was completely bald, her presence serene yet commanding, like a monk from the East.
"Master, what’s wrong?" Wanda asked, puzzled. To her, the bald woman looked utterly ordinary.
But Fenric’s face grew grim.
He knew exactly how terrifying this woman was.
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