Killian stiffened, his expression frozen in disbelief, then he quickly masked it, forcing a tight-lipped smile to hide his alarm.
"So," he said calmly, voice low and even, "how exactly do you want to cooperate?"
He didn't mean a word of it. The Extremis project had already passed its most critical stages. At this point, the last thing he wanted was to share its success with an outsider. He just needed to buy time, figure out who these people were, and how much they really knew.
Luke, smiling like a mischievous kid who knew he held all the cards, replied breezily, "Simple. I'll give you ten bucks, flat, to buy out your Extremis patent. What do you say? It's a great deal, don't you think so?"
There wasn't an ounce of shame in his voice.
Killian's expression turned cold. This wasn't a negotiation, it was a mockery.
"You're here to steal my life's work?" His tone dropped several degrees, the fury bubbling just beneath the surface. "Then allow me to show you my answer."
His hand moved with sudden speed, raising the pistol toward Luke with deadly intent.
Unfazed, Luke didn't flinch. A small chime echoed inside his head.
[Ding! Aldrich Killian is threatening to shoot the host. His gun doesn't like it, so it has voluntarily transformed into a bubble gun.]
The madness in Killian's eyes grew. Sharon tensed immediately and raised Mjölnir as sparks danced at the edges of the hammer. Beside her, Wanda's palm lit with red energy, fingers splayed in preparation to strike.
Luke raised a hand gently between them. "Don't shoot," he said firmly.
He didn't want Killian dead, not yet. The man was still useful, a key player in the upcoming drama of the Marvel world. There were still plot points to be squeezed out from him.
Wanda and Sharon halted on instinct, but their bodies stayed firmly between Luke and the gun. Their eyes never left Killian's finger as it gripped the trigger.
Behind him, Maya's voice suddenly rang out in alarm. "Killian! Don't shoot!"
She didn't want anyone to die. Completing her research, recognition, those were her only goals. Not bloodshed.
But Killian ignored her. With eyes wide and wild, he squeezed the trigger.
"Die!!!" he roared, pulling it again, and again, and again.
Click. Pop~
Instead of gunshots, soft bubbles drifted from the muzzle of the weapon.
Killian froze in place.
Click. Pop~. A stream of shimmering soap bubbles drifted lazily through the air.
One… two… five… ten…
Wanda blinked.
Sharon slowly lowered her arm, her expression twisting in confusion.
Even Maya stared in disbelief.
Killian's furious snarl faded into stunned silence as the reality hit him. His pistol, his lethal, well-maintained and trusty weapon, was now blowing harmless bubbles into the room.
"This… what…?" Killian's voice was hoarse, confused.
He stumbled backward, falling to his knees. Trembling hands clutched the weapon, holding it up as if trying to make sense of its betrayal.
"This doesn't make sense," he muttered. "This is my gun… I've… I've used it before…"
He turned it over, staring down the barrel as if it would explain itself. His pupils shook, panic crawling into his chest.
No one had touched this weapon, it never left his side, so no one could have tampered with it.
Unless...
Unless something unnatural had happened.
Luke stepped forward slowly, brushing past Wanda and Sharon.
The two women followed closely, still alert, but letting Luke take the lead.
He crouched in front of Killian, now kneeling in a haze of disbelief.
Luke's tone was light. "Now, tell me, where is the Extremis?"
Killian blinked up at him, as if the question didn't compute.
Then, realizing the playfulness was gone from Luke's voice, his face twisted again. "Extremis… it's not ready! It's still theoretical, a project between me and Dr. Hansen!"
Luke raised an eyebrow. "Still lying?"
His voice dropped, hardening just enough to send a chill.
He turned to Wanda. "Break his arm."
Wanda's eyes sparkled with amusement.
Sharon's face, however, turned pale. "Wait, what?"
She instinctively stepped forward. "Let me do it."
Breaking someone's arm wasn't something you asked a girl like Wanda to do. Sharon, trained by S.H.I.E.L.D., could do it quickly and cleanly. Wanda was still just a kid, wasn't she?
But Maya was even more stunned than Sharon. Watching the scene unfold, she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Was this man really ordering a young girl to break someone's arm?
What kind of monsters were these people?
But then…
Wanda giggled.
It wasn't a nervous giggle, or a child's innocent laugh.
It was confident, bordering on cocky. She stepped forward lightly, almost skipping. "It's okay, Sharon. I've got this."
Sharon froze.
There was something in that laugh that made her hesitate.
And then she saw it, Wanda's eyes gleaming, her fingers flexing like someone who knew exactly how to break bones.
Because, truth be told… Wanda wasn't the sweet, delicate girl Sharon had imagined.
Luke had always spoiled her, yes, but not because she was fragile, but just because she was his little sister.
But that didn't mean she couldn't be ruthless.
The Wanda who had grown up in an orphanage run by gangsters had been in more fights than Sharon could dream of. She didn't shy away from violence, she survived through it.
And breaking an arm? Please. She'd broken worse.
The smallest kids in a gang neighborhood had to learn fast: hit first, hit hard, and hit where it hurts the most.
That's why, when you look at a group of gangsters, you should always be wary of the smallest one, because they're always the meanest, they have to be in order to protect themselves.
Wanda stepped in close to Killian, who was still trying to process the surreal betrayal of his own weapon.
She smiled brightly.
"Left or right, Luke?"
…