"What idea?" Natasha was stunned.
Leon began packing up the items on the workbench, preparing to make a batch of inhibitors.
"I'll help you take down the Red Room, and in return, you and your companions can work for me. How about that?"
A team of elite female agents skilled in combat, espionage, and piloting? Who could refuse?
"I get a squad of top-tier operatives, the Red Room is eliminated, and the other Widows are freed to choose their own futures. It's a win-win-win situation!"
Leon was, of course, securing his own victory—eliminating the Red Room while gaining a powerful team.
"What do you think?" he asked casually, his hands a blur of motion as he mixed the inhibitors with precise accuracy.
Natasha watched in amazement. "How do you plan to take down the Red Room?"
For some reason, she didn't doubt him. She just knew that if Leon wanted to, he could do it.
"So, you agree?" Leon asked without turning around.
Natasha hesitated for a moment. "I agree. After the Red Room is destroyed, I'll help persuade the other Widows to join you."
"But I can't guarantee they'll all agree. As for me, I'm yours now."
Leon paused his work, turning to her with mild surprise. "You're serious? You didn't even ask what I'd have you do?"
Shouldn't she be negotiating conditions to ensure he wouldn't force them into something immoral? Yet, she didn't.
Natasha shook her head. "Believe me, if you take down the Red Room, they'll do anything for you."
"And you?" Leon asked.
"I told you—I owe you my life." Natasha placed her hands on the table, leaning closer. Her amber eyes locked onto his. "I'll do whatever you ask. If I can't, then I'll owe you my life again."
Her breath brushed against his face, her words carrying both sincerity and an unspoken challenge.
Even Leon, with all his power, couldn't ignore such an open declaration of loyalty.
But then—
"Oh! The smell! Don't get so close!" Leon pinched his nose and took a step back, looking disgusted. "I meant to tell you earlier, you can use my bathroom upstairs. Now go take a shower!"
Even with his senses partially dulled, the faint stench of sewer water on Natasha was noticeable up close.
"My... my smell?" Natasha's expression froze as if struck by lightning.
Without further explanation, Leon called out, "Daidai, escort our guest out. She's not allowed back until she's washed. She's got no reason to stay here while I work anyway."
The small AI assistant activated, rolling forward and using its mechanical arms to gently push Natasha toward the exit.
Still in a daze, she soon found herself in Leon's bathroom, staring at her reflection.
"Do I really stink?" She raised an arm and sniffed. "No… the deodorant should've covered the sewer smell."
Doubtful, she stripped off her combat suit, activated the shower panel, and let the steaming water cascade down.
"It's been too long since I had a proper hot shower…" She sighed in relief. Then, a small smile curled her lips. "Could it be that Leon actually cares?"
Her chuckle echoed in the room. "So, he's just a proud little brother… after all, he's only seventeen or eighteen."
"Looks like you're ready. That's great—I've prepared enough inhibitors."
An hour and a half later, they reconvened in the living room.
By then, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting Stark's mansion in warm orange hues. Shadows stretched long across the floor.
Natasha had changed back into her black combat suit, now fresh and dry.
Leon finally felt comfortable looking at her without distraction. Natasha wasn't the tallest, but her figure was peak perfection—toned, curvy, and exuding confidence. But what stood out most were her eyes.
Amber and striking, they carried an intensity that made her unforgettable. It was no wonder she never wore a mask during missions—anyone who saw her would remember those eyes.
"We're ready," Natasha said. "So, what's the plan? You sound like we're heading out to attack the Red Room right now."
She glanced at Leon's long coat. "Wait… are you wearing armor under that? Your own version of Iron Man's suit?"
"Wait… am I right?" Natasha asked, more certain by the second.
Given that Leon was Tony Stark's younger brother, she wouldn't be surprised if he had his own set of armor.
"Are you seriously planning to take me straight to the Red Room?"
Excitement warred with caution in her voice. She knew that in the Red Room's threat analysis, Iron Man's armor was noted for its technology more than its combat power. The Red Room had no shortage of heavy artillery to counter aerial threats.
"Shouldn't we make a plan first?" Natasha suggested, trying to rein in his apparent recklessness.
Leon shook his head and placed the box of inhibitors on the floor.
"A plan? The plan is simple: find the Red Room and eliminate everyone running it."
Gripping the collar of his trench coat, he smirked. "You were partly right, though. I do plan to take you there directly."
"But not in a suit of armor."
With that, he ripped open his coat and tossed it onto the sofa.
Natasha was mid-sentence when she saw it.
The S-shaped emblem on his chest gleamed under the fading sunlight.
Her words caught in her throat. Her mind blanked. And then—
"What the f—!!" Natasha's voice cracked as her entire worldview shifted.
"You're Superman!?"
She stared, eyes wide with disbelief, awe, and a rapidly growing excitement.
"Are you really Superman?!"
Leon crossed his arms. "Of course."
Natasha stepped forward and pressed her hands against his chest, running her fingers over the solid muscle beneath the emblem.
"My God, it feels like a Greek statue!" She couldn't stop herself from exclaiming. "No wonder you're so strong… and your chest muscles…!"
Her disbelief turned into something close to giddy excitement.
Leon wasn't just strong. He was the strongest.
The infamous Superman who had taken the world by storm.
With a literal god on their side, the Red Room didn't stand a chance.
Suddenly, Natasha felt nothing but sheer relief.
Breaking into Stark's mansion that night had been the best decision of her life.
"Ahem. Stop touching me now." Leon coughed lightly. "Are you ready? If so, let's go."
Natasha forced herself to pull away, nodding with new determination. "Let's do this."
The last rays of sunset streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating Leon from behind.
His shadow stretched across the room, long and unwavering.
Natasha stood just within it, looking up at him.
To her, Leon seemed almost golden in the light—a figure of power, hope, and something beyond human.
A Superman.
…
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