"How's life lately?" Rumlow asked, lounging in Steve's gym, watching him pummel a sandbag.
While Matt handled law firm work and Luke and Jessica went on dates, Rumlow had only training to fill his days.
"Not bad. Spent yesterday afternoon with Peggy," Steve said, landing a hook that burst the sandbag. He grabbed a chair, sitting across from Rumlow.
"I don't believe Fury destroyed Purple Man's body," Rumlow said, pulling a six-pack and a paper bag of fried chicken from his pack, setting them on the table.
"If he uses it, I'll deck him myself," Steve said, unwrapping his hand wraps and wiping sweat with a towel. He knew Fury's ways.
"Punching won't change him. He's stubborn as Rorschach, but for what?" Rumlow said, mentioning Rorschach, catching Steve's attention.
Steve had heard about Rorschach's unyielding justice and Bul-Kathos's approval but hadn't visited Harrogath to see him.
"Fury said something that stuck: if Bul-Kathos loses control, who stops him?" Steve said, chugging a beer.
"The Seven Demon Kings couldn't break his will. No one can," Rumlow replied, biting into chicken. He usually avoided junk food to maintain peak condition—normal bodies couldn't fully absorb such calories.
"You look bulkier. Eating well?" Steve asked.
"Teleporting means no more black bread. Gained some fat," Rumlow grumbled, still haunted by Harrogath's dreadful loaves.
"Captain, Winter Soldier's alive, right?" Rumlow asked, smirking, chewing chicken.
Steve hesitated. "Yes, SHIELD has revival methods."
No point hiding it—Bucky was back in view. "When's he visiting the playboy?" Rumlow asked, grabbing another piece.
"What's your angle?" Steve asked. Rumlow had no reason to track Bucky.
"No angle. Bul-Kathos said Stark might get a chance anyone would envy. Wanna see his face when a dead man shows up. Plus, he once slapped a checkbook in my face," Rumlow said, still stung. As a combat agent, he'd never been humiliated like that until becoming a barbarian.
"Barbarians need scientists? Or funding?" Steve asked, confused.
"Not barbarian. Mage," Rumlow said casually. No big secret.
He glanced at a narrow skylight—an iron figure zoomed past. "SHIELD's new tech?" he asked.
"What?"
"Flying iron man just passed," Rumlow said.
Steve frowned, puzzled.
Luke and Jessica strolled happily down the street. "Let's take that alley. Faster," Jessica said, giggling, pointing to a shadowy lane known for screams.
"Sure," Luke grinned, following.
Halfway through, thirty ninjas blocked both ends. "Just punks lately. I could've handled them before. Nice to meet real opponents," Jessica said, cracking her shoulders.
"Hold up. I know these guys," Luke said, stepping forward, eyeing the chest-high ninjas. "Here for revenge? Where's the old lady?"
A ninja sized him up, waved a hand. "Kill!"
Before drawing his blade, Luke grabbed his skull. "Still waiting?" Jessica asked, smashing a ninja's head, shaking off blood.
"Use Slam. Matt says these guys revive unless you scatter their souls," Luke said, summoning a warblade and piercing his captive.
"Stop!" a righteous shout rang out.
"Who's that?" Luke turned.
A blond youth in a fighting stance yelled, "Careful!"
Luke casually swatted a charging ninja to the ground, then crushed its head with a size-47 boot, using a touch of Earth Stomp. The ninja turned to ash.
"Who're you?" Luke asked, his display freezing the others.
Jessica studied the youth, recalling something. "Danny Rand? Rand Corporation heir? Weren't you missing?"
Luke shrugged. "Not our problem." He focused on the ninjas. "What's your deal?"
"I thought you were in danger," Danny said, embarrassed. The Hand's ninjas looked villainous, but Luke and Jessica didn't need saving.
"That's a divine weapon, right?" a higher-ranking ninja said, eyeing Jessica's axe.
"Watch your eyes!" Luke roared, using Justice Descends to stomp the ninja into ash.
"Guess you don't need help. I'll go," Danny said, bowing and leaving. He'd misjudged.
"The Hand? I was gonna hunt you later," Luke said, picking up a samurai sword and swinging. Decent momentum, but off. Barbarian weapon skills covered many arms, but katanas were awkward—outclassed by broadswords for slashing, daggers for piercing, and axes for armor-breaking. Versatility was their strength, but barbarians preferred heavier, decisive weapons like hammers.
"These the ninjas you and Matt mentioned? Steve said gangs were under control," Jessica said, ignoring Danny.
Control had limits. New York's politicians relied on black-market profits, so gangs never stayed down long.
As they spoke, a metal figure crashed before Luke, jets flaring, then flew off.
"What was that?" Luke asked, stunned.
"A red-and-gold iron man?" Jessica said, uncertain.
A team of black-clad agents surrounded the alley, led by Coulson. "Hiss!" he gasped, recognizing Luke and Jessica via Steve.
"What's this?" Coulson asked, eyeing the ninjas, gun drawn.
"Date night," Luke said proudly. Jessica kicked his shin lightly.
"These guys?" Coulson started, but the ninjas slit their throats in unison, dissolving into ash, leaving only clothes.
Coulson's mouth twitched. Supernatural incidents were piling up, and he wondered when it started.
"Hand ninjas. They revive," Luke said, stowing his weapon and leading Jessica past the agents. Their date wasn't over.
"Thought you'd chat with them," Jessica teased.
Their strength had bred arrogance. Harrogath kept them humble, but the city inflated their egos.
"Focus on our task. Track that iron man. It came from Stark's place—you know what that means," Coulson told his agents, quelling their unease. Emotion control was agent training, but they were human. Nipping issues early was easier than fixing them later.
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