Part 1: Black Thread
Location: Edge of New Jersey, rural industrial zone
The black motorcycle rumbled to a stop outside an abandoned textile warehouse on the edge of a long-forgotten rail yard. The air smelled faintly of rust and rain-soaked concrete. Riven Dax stepped off the bike, his boots crunching gravel, the early morning fog curling around him like smoke. His black jacket fluttered lightly in the breeze, a thin duffel slung over one shoulder—the closest thing he had to belongings: a few shirts, a pair of pants, and the weight of what he had to do.
He stepped through the reinforced side door Tony's tech had silently unlocked for him, and entered the safehouse.
Inside, the space was dim but dry, rigged with Stark-level tech. A steel-plated boardroom table sat at the center beneath a single hanging bulb. Tactical gear hung neatly in wall compartments—modular armor, weapons, medkits, drones. A compact refrigerator buzzed in the far corner next to a closed-door bathroom. A worn punching bag swung gently from the ceiling, and against the far wall sat a folding cot, clean sheets stacked beside it. On a corner desk, a sleek Stark-grade laptop hummed quietly beside a satellite phone and a secured data link to the Avengers' encrypted net.
But what drew Riven's attention was the magnetic board across the far wall—empty.
He dropped his duffel to the floor and pulled a rolled folder from inside his jacket. Slowly, methodically, he began pinning up printed maps, photos, and black dossier cards. One by one.
Hydra Site Alpha – Destroyed.
Hydra Site Beta – Unknown.
Hydra Site Gamma – Infiltration pending.
...and so on.
Thirty total.
One was already ash and blood—burned to the ground with Logan.
Twenty-nine remained.
He stood back, eyes tracking the web of Hydra facilities. Labs. Hidden bunkers. Safehouses disguised as clinics and logistics fronts. Some were in cities. Some buried beneath forests. He traced the network with his gaze.
"You're going to bleed for what you did," he whispered.
His phone buzzed.
It was Logan.
Riven answered, voice quiet. "Yeah."
"You get there alright?"
"Yeah."
"Thought you'd call."
Riven was silent for a moment. Then, "I want to do this first one alone."
Logan's voice didn't argue. Just a quiet grunt. "You sure?"
"Yeah. Just… be ready in case. I might call if things go sideways."
A pause. Then Logan said, "Alright. You know where to find me."
The line went dead.
Riven lowered the phone and set it down. He walked to the table, turned on the laptop, and opened the encrypted files again—schematics, floor plans, employee lists. Everything Tony had compiled.
Outside, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance.
Inside, war was already beginning.
---