"In 1943, acting under the Führer's direct orders, your father began delving into the occult. With the aid of the Thule Society, he successfully deciphered ancient arcane runes, uncovering the resting place of a sealed divine relic," Baron Zemo recounted, laying out every detail of the classified history.
"To claim that divine artifact and aid the Reich in conquering the globe, your father traveled to Mexico and slaughtered countless Mayans.
Using their flesh and blood in a dark ritual, he successfully summoned that weapon of the gods straight to Earth."
"Yet for reasons unknown, your father was utterly incapable of wielding it. He had no choice but to leave it where it landed in the Arctic, establishing a subterranean fortress around the crater to ensure no rival faction could ever intercept it."
"Later, after your father vanished without a trace, the map changed hands amidst the collapse of the Nazi regime, eventually finding its way into my father's possession."
Sin listened to Zemo's narrative, her expression remaining flat and unimpressed.
"And you believe... this tale is enough to buy your life?" She scoffed, delivering a sharp critique: "A hammer that, in all likelihood, no mortal can lift? Such a trinket holds zero value to me."
An ordinary man would have likely broken down in terror under Sin's cold gaze. Yet Baron Zemo was no run-of-the-mill operative—ruling Eastern Europe's Hydra network for decades had forged him into a calculating strategist.
"Why waste time on such meaningless posturing, Miss Sin?" Zemo crossed his arms, his face completely devoid of fear. Instead, a confident smile played on his lips:
"You and your splinter faction never harbored any intention of returning to the central Hydra fold. Yet you were willing to risk drawing the Arbiter's crosshairs just to make this deal with me. That fact alone speaks volumes."
"So let us be entirely frank. If I hold the map to the treasure, then without a shadow of a doubt, you already possess the key."
"Rather than trying to wring every last scrap of value out of me, why not work together? When two people scratch a lottery ticket together, the odds of hitting the jackpot are always vastly better, wouldn't you agree?"
Sin did not offer a direct verbal reply, but the faint, subtle smirk tugging at the corner of her lips said everything.
"Baron Zemo, you truly are a clever man."
Rising from her desk, Sin walked over to the oil portrait of the Red Skull. Pressing the lower-right corner of the ornate frame, a hidden compartment popped open.
Inside rested a palm-sized metal plate, densely engraved with arcane scripts Zemo had never seen before.
"My father did indeed leave something behind," Sin tucked the metal tablet into her coat. "Though whether it is the key you speak of can only be confirmed once we arrive on site."
Zemo's eyes flashed with unmistakable excitement: "Then... shall we depart together?"
Sin cast a cold glance his way before finally extending her hand: "Here is to a fruitful partnership."
Meanwhile, high above the Atlantic Ocean.
The Quinjet cruised smoothly at ten thousand meters. The cabin's atmosphere was a world away from the dread of their departure, replaced by the profound relief of surviving an apocalyptic crisis.
Glancing at the closed partition where Wanda and Pietro were resting separately from the rest of the team, Tony turned to Peter with a self-deprecating chuckle:
"Buddy, I'm starting to understand what people mean when they say the end of science is theology."
"Today's little adventure made me realize I desperately need to build an Anti-Sorcerer Armor. You're definitely going to have to help me out with that."
Peter looked at him with an amused smirk: "Weren't you the one who stood before a live worldwide broadcast just an hour ago, swearing you'd spend the rest of your life atoning for your past mistakes? What, having second thoughts already?"
Tony's smile stiffened for a second, but he quickly recovered his composure:
"I am a man of my word. If I said I will compensate those two, I will honor every cent of it!"
"However, I still have unfinished business on this planet. Until that work is done, I cannot afford to die. To prevent another close call like today, I need the capability to protect myself—or even neutralize that loose cannon if things go sideways."
"With all due respect, Tony," Peter patted his shoulder, his tone turning measured and earnest. "If you maintain that level of suspicion toward Wanda, the grudge between you two will never heal."
Peter raised his voice slightly so the other heroes lounging around the cabin could hear:
"That girl is a natural-born magical prodigy, burdened with deep-seated insecurity. The more defensive and hostile you act around her, the more volatile her power becomes."
"What she needs was never chains or cages, but genuine trust."
Hearing this, not only did Tony fall into silence, but the rest of the crew also exchanged thoughtful glances.
Wanda's display of reality-warping magic had completely shattered their previous benchmarks of power, instilling a deep sense of vulnerability. That anxiety stemmed from the sobering reality that if Peter was ever off-world or unavailable, not a single one of them could rein her in.
In fact, wiping them all out would be barely harder for her than crushing a hill of ants. Under such circumstances, extending unconditional trust was far easier said than done.
"Once she wakes up, I'll try to become her friend," Gwen offered immediately as the reliable anchor of Peter's inner circle.
Felicia chimed in right behind her:
"While your intense concern for her makes me just a tiny bit jealous..."
"Whether out of humanitarian sympathy or doing some early screening for a potential new sister in our big family... count me in on befriending her too."
Compared to Gwen and Felicia, who could express their feelings freely, Natasha, Daisy, and Sif remained quiet.
Daisy and Natasha held back because their relationships with Peter weren't officially public, and they didn't want to complicate matters openly. Sif, on the other hand, was simply too proud as an Asgardian goddess. She believed in treating everyone besides Peter as equals; no matter how extraordinary the girl's magical talents were, Sif's warrior philosophy remained straightforward: if she steps out of line, we fight.
Just as everyone thought the conversation was winding down, Mantis raised her hand timidly from the corner, speaking up in a soft, shy voice:
"Um... maybe I can help too."
"I'm really good at easing people's emotional stress... and helping them get a wonderful night's sleep~!"