(~A/N~ Here's the edited version- slowly working through it during the gaps in my work, training and sleep. XD A little something extra for yea! Don't own Avengers. Wish I did. No flames please. Enjoy! Ja Ne!)


Vancouver, Canada, Present Day.

A lone figure sat in a small alcove shoved in the far left corner of the seedy, rundown bar, partially hidden from sight as they lounged in the shadowed booth. The figures sharp hazel eyes swept over the scene in front of them; analysing every entrance and exit, the possible route to each and the level of risk with each one. The person scrutinised every human being in the bar with them, mentally cataloguing those that were civilian, armed thugs... or government agents. The figure scowled at their transparency and downed another shot of shitty whiskey, not even feeling the burn.

'Fucking amateurs can't leave me alone' The figure grimaced 'Nick could've at least sent someone intelligent like Coulson. Or Hill. Or May. Or Hawk-Ass! Someone who can do their job well and hold a decent conversation! But Nooo...'

They groaned in exasperation before beckoning over a bartender with their gloved fingers. A tattooed redhead jaunted over, a bottle of bourbon in one hand and two glasses in the other. The figure raised an eyebrow at the spare glass the girl plopped on the table with the rest but didn't comment on it.

"How much do I owe you for this, love?" The figure questioned with a smooth, British accent. The bartender, probably no older than nineteen, blushed heavily.

"Th-Thirty nine dollars please..."

The figure smirked and reached for two twenties but stopped when a familiar american voice decided to interrupt.

"It's on me. Put it on my tab, Miss Styles" The girl's eyes widened in shock before nodding rapidly, skirting off like a spooked mutt.

A dark skinned man slid into the seat opposite with practised ease; his gloved hands resting interlocked on the table's rough surface. He wore all black, much like the person he came to see. His head was bald except for the black strap of his eye patch cutting through the expanse of skin. His left eye covered, but angry blackened scar tissue crept outward from underneath the leather fabric like poison ivy. His mouth was set in a passive line, his jaw tight. He cracked open the bottle with a flick of his wrist, pouring out two generous measures of the amber liquid. The leather clad man gently pushed one over to the shadowed figure; staring them dead in the eyes.

"To your health, Valkyrie. Bottoms up!" The man raised his glass in salute before swallowing the bourbon in one go. The figure chuckled darkly, doing the same.

"You know I was just thinking of you, Nick. How nice of you to come and keep this old bird company..." The figure leaned across the table on their elbows, emerging from the shadows and into the light, revealing themselves for the first time that night. It was a woman, looking no older than twenty five, wearing all black biker gear except for the valkyrie wings stitched on the back of her leather duster. She was rather beautiful, but hers was a cold beauty, a deadly beauty. From her high sculpted cheekbones, lidded eyes and short honey brown locks slicked back with a careless strand tumbling forward bisecting her chiselled profile... well. She looked regal and untouchable. Truly like her namesake.

She raised an eyebrow at the government official.

"Not that I don't appreciate the alcohol and all, but you're a very busy man and you wouldn't be here without a good reason so spill!" She said bluntly. She wasn't in the mood for Nick Fury's mind games. He rolled his one good eye before mentioning the Manhattan invasion. Her brow twitched. She did not like hearing about that asshole's mad scheme for power. Or about the other asshole with his MC Hammer. Or about any of his band of merry vikings...

"According to King Odin, Loki was influenced by an outside source, a so called Titan called Thanos. And this 'outside force' invaded Asgard killing ninety percent of their population. Only those residing in the royal palace at the time were saved from the enemy strike. The Gate Keeper got them out and Loki got them here... This whole thing screams cover up. There's something not right about this and I need your help to find out what! You've walked with them, talked with them, grew up with them! You know a side to these Asgardians that we never have. And your abilities would help should they become a threat to our planet... Look. You've had a shit life. You've done things you ain't proud of in the name of a fascist cult you never believed in but were raised in. You were made into a cold blooded killer for some terrible motherfucker who still haunts your ass to this day..." Nick trailed off his rant, his lone eye softening slightly at the woman's flinch.

"I'm not asking for you to kiss their ass or to play nice with them. All I'm asking is that you temporarily join the Avengers as a consultant specialist and to watch that silver tongued motherfucker like a hawk, nothing more. Please. Let me call you in, Valkyrie..." The woman sighed and poured them both another shot. Fucking guilt trip. She rubbed at her neck, her eyes hard but distant, locked upon memories unwittingly brought forward.

"...fine. But I want free food. And accommodation. And I reserve the right to terrorise anyone who pisses me off deliberately... And call me Zoey..."

The dark skinned man smirked as he sipped at his whiskey. The Avengers and Co. wouldn't know what hit them.


Swiss Alps, 1938

Clop. Clop. Clop.

Dr. Armin Zola strode down the tunnel, frantically checking his watch. He was going to be late. The General didn't approve of tardiness. He liked to make an example of those who were late… The man pulled at his collar as he walked, swallowing nervously. The sound of his footsteps reverberated around the smooth steel walls of hydra's secret facility, its tunnels and pathways buried deep in the mountain rock.

Clop. Clop. Clop.

The scientist hated that sound. It made him paranoid, making him feel as if he were constantly being followed. The notion wasn't helped by the numerous Hydra guards stationed at every door, dressed all in black from head to toe. Not even the eyes were uncovered. Dr. Zola mentally shook himself. He approached the reinforced bulkhead doors and keyed in the code. A deep rumble erupted from within, shaking the floor beneath his feet. The hangar doors screeched open at a painstaking pace. Dr. Zola started to sweat. He checked his watch.

Shit.

Five O'clock. He was now officially late.

The doors ground to a halt. Dr. Zola scurried past and into the room. The place itself was dark; the only illumination provided was from a fireplace set into the wall. Two plush armchairs sat in front of each other, one partially concealed in the shadows. A figure was slouching in the chair, a glass of brandy in their hand.

"Your late, Doctor." A voice spoke softly in heavily accented English.

The figure leaned forward out of the shadows. Where normal skin should have been, there was a wash of angry red flesh. No nose, just two protruding holes, like the joint had been eroded away. His sharp grey eyes were deeply set into his head, and their glare was focused on him. This was Johann Schmidt, The Furah's right hand man and the leader of Hydra. Or, what was left of him. Zola gulped nervously. Schmidt chuckled as he gestured to the other chair.

"Have a seat, Doctor Zola. I hear you have news for me… Good news, I hope. I'd hate for you to waste my time" The bespectacled man shifted slightly under the demonic gaze.

"I believe I had located the device you seek, General, but by the time the retrieval team arrived at the destination… It was… gone."

"Gone?" The General growled.

Dr. Zola started to utter a grovelling apology when Schmidt cut him off.

"No matter, Dr. Zola, no matter. I shall retrieve it in time." The red skinned man paused to take a long sip from his brandy.

"Now…What else did you have to say to me that was so…important?"

The scientist mood switched and he grinned manically.

"From what I have deduced from the workings of the device, the object releases a highly concentrated wave of an unknown radiation, dissolving all forms of life- whether it's organic in origin or not. Yes? Well it seems I was mistaken, General. A mother and her child were in the vicinity when the spike occurred. The mother was vaporised as far as we can tell but…" The scientist trailed off in excitement.

"The infant survived?!" Schmidt responded with a raised brow, mildly stunned.

"Yes, it did. The subject is about 62 months old and is female. Extraordinary!"

"Very well, Doctor. You have piqued my interest in the matter. Do what needs to be done." Johann Schmidt rose from the armrest and walked toward the doorway. Armin hastily followed behind him.

"It has already been done, Sir. She is in detention room three and tests are underway!"

"Good. Let us see this little Fraulein, Doctor Zola..."


She had a bad dream. There was a loud bang. It was big and blue and bright. It came from a bright blue box. It kept flashing, flashing, flashing. It was really small but the bang was BIG. Mommy was there and so was she. Mommy was scared. Mommy cried. Mommy was in pain. She was scared. The little box got brighter. Mommy was screaming and holding her head. And then...then...Mommy's face was...melted away...and then she was gone. And so was the box. She was scared. Mommy was gone and she cried for Mommy. She was alone. Her head really hurt and she was all alone. There were voices in her head and she was alone...but it was just a bad dream...

There is a bright white light that hurts her eyes. Her head really hurts too. It burns. Why does it burn? Where was she? She was in a room and she was on a bed. She had funny black strips over her and the bed. She was lying down and couldn't move. Why can't she move? Where is mommy? She's scared. She looked around and saw a door that is metal and a big scary mirror. She can see a table with shiny sharp things on it. What did Mommy call it? A Needle. Needles hurt. It is painful. She don't like pain. Pain makes her sad but Mommy makes me happy. Where is Mommy? She must find Mommy!

The girl pulled on the straps but she can't move. They dig into her skin. She tried again and again and again. It's painful so she cried. Where is Mommy?

"Mommy?" She said. She can't hear me?

"Mommy!?" She shouted. Mommy's not here. It wasn't a bad dream...It was real? No. Mommy isn't dead. Not dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. The girl thought sadly. Now her heart hurts. Hurts for Mommy. She cried for Mommy.

"Des versuchsperson IST wach!?"

The girl stopped crying. She heard funny sounds, funny voices. It sounds strange and scary but she knows what they said. 'The subject is awake!?' What does that mean? Is subject her? Is it my name? She knows Mommy but who was she? Please help, Mommy! Help me! She was scared...

"MOMMY!"


"This is the child, Zola?" The General mused; staring at the infant through the reflective glass. The girl was unconscious, strapped down on a gurney with thick Velcro bonds. From appearance, nothing was out of the ordinary. Just a weak little girl…

"Yes, it is…we are still waiting on the blood results, Sir. It might take a little while longer than anticipated so I've injected the subject with a high dose of sedatives to keep her unconscious. She's quite the fighter General. Very spirited indeed!" Dr. Zola seemed fascinated by the infant; constantly checking it's vitals and whatnot. Schmidt wasn't sure that was a good thing. That was when Dr. Zola's assistant walked in, a mix of awe and confusion on her face.

"Sir, I think you should see this…" She whispered.

Dr. Zola rolled his eyes as he snatched the clipboard from the woman's hands. His eyes scanned the pages, disbelief clouding his eyes as he did so. He flicked between each page one last time before grinning to himself.

"Are you sure your results are sound? Have you double checked?"

The woman nodded vigorously. Schmidt sighed with annoyance and tapped his fingers against the glass. He was growing tired of this charade. He had things to do, things to plan.

"I don't like to be left out of the loop, Doctor, get to the point already…I'm a busy man!"

"O-of course, General. I meant no disrespect. It's just that the subject's blood results came through. It's marvellous! It appears that the girl's genes have mutated- the child's molecules can absorb energy and bond with it at a cellular level. From what we have here, it seems that the subject has an incredibly high metabolic rate and an increased haemoglobin count. I think that the subject, by result of bonding with the radiation from the device, may have incredible healing capabilities, increased stamina-"

"You have definitive proof?" The General interrupted sharply, uncaring for the scientist's hypothesis.

"No, but in time-"

"Mommy!?"

Dr. Zola's head snapped towards the glass. Impossible. The child was wide awake, eyes wide open and filled with panic. Her breath came in short pants. The girl frantically tugged at the bonds attached to her wrists and ankles.

"The subject is awake!?" A scientist yelled.

The general smirked at the man's surprise and at his own. It seems that the Doctor's pet project could be of use after all…

The girl behind the glass was terrified. Tears streamed down her face as she pulled at the bonds. Her eyes darted around wildly like a cornered animal.

"MOMMY!" The child screamed. The child thrashed and bucked on the gurney, screaming unintelligible sounds.

RIIP!

"Interesting…." The general murmured to himself as the infant tore free of restraints that were designed for adults. The scientists around him were in disarray, yelling at each other. The red-skinned man smirked to himself as new plans began to form in his mind. He saw the potential the child had and the man had absolutely no intention of letting it go to waste... The General just needed to mould the Fraulein the right way, break her and re-assemble the pieces as he saw fit. His smirk grew darker. It would take time and tedious effort, but that child would be his best asset... his finest creation. He calmly walked out of the room, hands clasped behind his back, toward detention room three.


Armin Zola gazed in wonder at the infant behind the glass, marvelling at the girl's persistence. Extraordinary! To pull free of bonds like those… what determination! As he observed the child, she clambered off the gurney and collapsed to the floor. She was cradling her wrists to her chest. Angry red sores seeping with blood encased her hands and feet; her face was streaked with sweat. The girl staggered to her feet with a whimper. As she tried to walk, her knees buckled and she crashed into the trolley by the gurney, sending scalpels, needles and all kinds of sharp equipment skittering onto the cold concrete beneath her. She moaned softly, her head lolling to one side while she lay in a foetal position in the middle of the room. She seemed dazed, sluggish.

Must be the after effects of the sedatives…Zola pondered idly.

An insistent beeping sound emerged from the door, and with a hiss, it swung open. The girl snapped upright and alert. An ominous silhouette loomed in the doorway and the child shrank backward automatically. Then Johann Schmidt's face came into view as he entered the room. The child's face morphed into one of fear and she let out a piercing scream. She scuttled further back till she was pressed against the wall, her eyes frantically darting round the room before resting upon a scalpel at her feet. In an instant, the thin blade was in her trembling hand. Then she threw the scalpel directly at the General's face. Schmidt dodged the surgical instrument with ease, simply moving his head to the left with impossible speed.

CRACK!

Impaled in the wall, right where the general's head would have been, was the scalpel. Only half the handle was visible, the rest buried deep in the rock. A web of cracks fanned out in every direction from the point of impact, lumps of concrete crumbling to dust. Schmidt turned and looked at the child huddled at the other end of the room, beneath the mirror. The man smirked, obviously impressed with the power in which the object was thrown. He grasped the remaining handle and wrenched the blade out of the wall. The General studied the instrument for a moment before twirling the scalpel between his fingers.

"Impressive, subject three; but no more of that!" Schmidt said aloud in English while slowly approaching the child. He came to a halt directly in front of the girl, who was peering up at him fearfully. He bent down until his face was level with hers and raised a gloved hand in front of her face; the girl flinched. Schmidt simply wagged his finger at her and tittered, like how a parent would scold a child for being naughty.

"If you are good, then your stay here at Hydra will be… bearable, too say the least. But if you misbehave…"

The General grabbed the girl by the throat and stood upright, bringing the girl with him. She clawed at his hand, gasping for breath as her body was suspended mid-air. Schmidt shoved the girl against the glass making Dr. Zola jump. The General leaned in close, his face so close to hers they were almost touching. He whipped out the scalpel and raised the blade within an inch of the child's eye.

"….then you will be punished… Severely. Is that understood? Hmm?"

The child nodded quickly. Schmidt smirked and released his grip, watching the girl crumble to the floor, heaving in a precious lungful of air.

"Good! Very good! Now you will do as you are told, speak when spoken to or when you have permission to do so. You are 'subject three'. That is your name. Your purpose is… to serve. Understood?"

She nodded again. He nodded, satisfied with her answer. He threw the scalpel to the floor and walked out the room.

"Oh, and subject three…" The girl gazed at him through the now closing door. There was a malicious gleam in his eye, one that made the girl shiver.

"Welcome to Hydra."


(~A/N~ How's the edit? Like it? Lemme know. And yes, she looks like a female Sosuke Aizen. I love him. So. Much. Besides, the reason she looks like this will come about later in the story; it's suits her personality trust me! XDD Reviews are life. No flamers please but CC is welcomed. See you around my fellow ninjas!)