[3rd PERSON POV]

"What's interesting is this: If he was targeting Captain America, why report his findings? After accomplishing his goal, he could have just walked away and no one would have ever known. No questions would have been asked, no loose ends to tie up. But he chose the opposite—openly, almost theatrically, announcing his involvement to the entire world. He put himself under a spotlight he could have easily sidestepped. All of that, and the way he's dealt with us... It just doesn't add up."

"He wasn't afraid of anything," Phil continued, picking up the thread of my doubts with a pensive look. "Not even for a second. He knew SHIELD would come, and he was ready for it—almost as if he was waiting for us specifically. Maybe we were his real target, not Captain America? No, that's ridiculous. Or is it?"

Maria shrugged, chewing on the thought. "Maybe we're just overthinking this. Maybe he did all of it for the sheer fun of it, just to see what would happen. And here we are, breaking our brains, trying to ascribe logic where there might be none at all. We tie ourselves in knots, but someone like him operates on an entirely different wavelength. I say let's just report everything to the director. Let him untangle the mess and decide what comes next. Maybe that's what directors are for."

"Still, this Alex is far from simple." Coulson spoke with an edge of irritation mixed with reluctant admiration. "He's got a solid connection to the chairman of Wayne Enterprises. Not a casual acquaintance, either—they're friends. And as for Bruce Wayne himself—there is no need to list his abilities; everyone knows the stories, the rumors. Money, resources, reach... it's too much to catalog, so why even try? Personally, I'm convinced this kid knows the Dark Knight's secret identity. He probably knew before any of us. His dossier sums him up in a single paragraph: mysterious nature, unclear motives, actions that by all accounts are illogical. I'd bet anything that from today onward he's going to get a lot more attention from every intelligence agency with a pulse. Eh," he sighed, exasperated.

"But thanks to that agreement, we have absolutely no right to meddle with Amanda Waller's territory. Not our circus, not our monkeys. This isn't our problem—it's Fury's headache now. No one forced the director to sign such a dumb deal with that cunning woman." Hill shot a dark look at the ceiling, as though Fury himself might be lurking in the vents.

"Hey, Maria, looks like the boy took a special interest in you," her partner added with a teasing grin, nudging her gently. "Who knows, maybe he's your destiny," he joked, but under the humor lay a trace of curiosity that even he couldn't hide. Maria didn't answer; the tease fell flat, and the young woman only stayed silent. For a moment, something flickered in her eyes—a strange, unreadable light—then was gone, as if quickly snuffed out.

...….

[Alex's POV]

Everything, in the end, had gone even better than I'd expected. As we made our way down the ramp, I cast one last, lingering look at the S.H.I.E.L.D. ship, the very same place where, not so long ago, that tense conversation with the agents had played out. The ship now seemed almost peaceful, bobbing quietly in the harbor, its secrets locked away again.

"Did you tell them anything?" I asked Sasha, who'd been trailing at my heels the whole time, twisted to peer at me with a hint of suspicion.

"Nothing important," She answered without a pause. "I'm not used to sitting in the hot seat. Usually I'm the one asking the questions, not the other way around."

I smirked. "You wore it well enough. I doubt they got much out of either of us. Well, it doesn't matter. All that matters is that we got what we came for." I held up the vial of blood, watching it catch the sun for an instant, the dark contents swirling inside like a long-forgotten secret.

"It's still surprising to me," Bordeaux cut in, her voice low and filled with fascination. "Despite Captain America being frozen in ice for decades, his blood still circulates. It's as if his body refused to accept the rules of nature, as if even the cold couldn't command him."

"It's all in the blood," I replied, taking a moment to tuck away the vial carefully in my kit. "The super-soldier serum ramped up his metabolism more than fourfold, letting him survive what should have been fatal. He didn't just hibernate—he endured, cell by cell." There was a kind of awe in my voice I hadn't intended, but it fit.

I drew a ragged breath, and smiled, even as the weight of what we'd done settled over me. "Our job's done. We're heading back to Gotham. This time, the harvest was grand. I got Steve Rogers' DNA, made contact with SHIELD, and left Captain America in my debt. That's not just a win—that's a story people will whisper about. Of course, it means we can forget about a peaceful life from now on. But honestly," I shrugged, "no use getting upset. Very soon, I'll gain the power I've been chasing, and then I'll stand proud against whatever fate decides to throw my way. The real trick is finishing it all before my time runs out."

...….

[Gotham City. Babylon.]

It felt good to be home, if you could call Babylon that. The city was a living paradox—part fortress, part madhouse. Nothing about Gotham was ever easy. The air crackled with a strange energy as we stepped inside, boots echoing on cold marble floors that had seen everything from laughter to bloodshed.

"All hands on deck! Bet you weren't expecting us, but we're back!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, letting the words ring out, bounce off the high ceilings, wake anyone who might have been dozing. "Pamela, Kavita, where are you? Come out—we brought snacks!" I grinned at Sasha, enjoying the moment, absurd as it was.

The first to greet us was Pamela—the infamous Poison Ivy herself. Her red hair flashed like autumn fire. Over her signature plant-woven green ensemble, she'd lazily draped a white lab coat, its sterile lines at odds with her wild nature. The coat didn't hide her curves; instead, it accentuated them. She strolled over, almost a queen in her own jungle, pace unhurried, an unreadable look on her face. No one could tell if she was pleased to see us, or simply resigned.

"Welcome," Ivy stated, her tone cool but gentle. Mere words, yet they held the weight of the forest itself. As she spoke, every plant in the surrounding area began to gently sway—not from wind, but because Ivy willed it so, her powers as subtle as they were absolute. There was peace in it, a kind of blessing only she could grant.

"The kids are also happy to see you," she murmured, one hand moving in a slow, affectionate caress across the leaves of a nearby bush. The plant shuddered in delight, trembling as if it could recognize our voices.

"Funny," I quipped, raising an eyebrow. "Sometimes I get the feeling your plants are happier to see us than you are."

"I just try to maintain balance around here," Ivy answered with that distant, faraway look she often wore. "You'll find out soon enough just how much Kavita missed you. I almost feel sorry for you," she added cryptically, her lips twisting into a sly smile.

What…? I didn't get a chance to parse her meaning. Suddenly, a blur shot across the room—a wild-eyed woman darting toward us at breakneck speed. For half a heartbeat I thought we were being ambushed, my body tensing for a fight, my mind racing for an escape. But then I caught the unmistakable gleam of Professor Rao's glasses, and I realized the danger was of a different sort.

She bounced off the slick marble, slipped past us entirely—her momentum unstoppable—then, gaining her footing, doubled back and lunged straight at me.

"You're back?! Quick—show him to me, right now!" she nearly screamed, eyes burning with manic excitement.

"Whoa, settle down! Didn't know you'd be this hyped for a care package," I said, and from my bag, I dumped an extravagant variety of deep-sea fish onto the gleaming kitchen table: grayling, trout, nelma, even a sesame. "Fresh fish, straight from the Arctic—caught and stored on the spot. Perfectly preserved. Ta-dah! What do you think?"

"Are you trying to die?" Kavita growled, her voice emerging from somewhere deep within, low and menacing, as if death itself had come to collect me. Instantly, icy goosebumps prickled up my arms.

"Hey, easy there, don't freak out!" I cried, throwing up my hands in surrender. "I brought the real prize—I haven't forgotten."

"Hand it over." Rao's voice was taut, almost desperate, her fingers flexing with anticipation.

With a sigh, knowing I had no real choice, I slipped the vessel containing Steve Rogers' blood from my pocket and offered it to her with the kind of reverence the occasion deserved. Rao took it with trembling hands, treating the vial as if it was a sacred relic, her entire body reverberating with the magnitude of the moment.

"She's been obsessed, honestly," Pamela explained, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she watched her revived friend cradle the blood. "You especially, and the mission. She hasn't stopped dreaming about studying super-soldier DNA, recreating Erskine's formula. She seemed fine at first, but the last few days were a nightmare for all of us. She went off the rails. Didn't sleep, couldn't rest, just lived and breathed the idea of the serum. Obsession drives us, but sometimes obsession is the only thing that moves us past the impossible. Still—thanks to that madness, our research just took a leap a hundred steps forward."

"So every cloud really does have a silver lining, huh?" I mused, watching Rao clutch the vial like a lifeline.

"I suppose so."

Then I frowned down at the generous pile of fish. "This is great, sure, but…" I looked up, genuinely confused. "What do I actually do with all this seafood?"

"You're impossible." Pamela and Sasha declared in perfect unison, both smacking their foreheads, as if fate itself had seen this coming.

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Thank you all for reading, let's goooooo.