Five years ago
Maria Hill never expected to wake up from death.
Moments ago — or so it felt — she was collapsing amid flames and rubble, holding the hand of gray-haired Natasha Romanoff, trying to reassure her that at least the end was shared. Pain, ash, explosion... then a white void and a voice unlike any she had ever heard.
And now, here she stood, struggling to catch her breath, wearing a suit she hadn't worn in a long time, in an office she hadn't visited for many years. Her right hand was intact, no signs of burns, no blood, no fire.
"Maria?" came a voice from the door, familiar... too familiar.
She slowly turned, her heart pounding fiercely. Standing before her was Natasha, alive, walking on two sound feet, without a scar or blood.
"You?!" Both spoke in unison, in a tense silence, followed by quick steps toward each other, then a hug that words could not explain.
"What is this?" Natasha whispered, looking around nervously.
"I don't know." Maria replied, her mind starting to work at an unnatural speed.
Maria rushed to the mirror and stared at it intently.
It reflected an image younger by five years. Or even more. Her features had returned to a time she thought was long gone. Her skin was clearer, her hair fuller, no wrinkles or signs of fatigue.
Natasha came closer, looking at herself, then at Maria.
"This is impossible..." she murmured.
"Yes." Maria said softly, "But we are living it now."
They sat on the nearest chair, each trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
"Do you think we're dreaming? Is this an illusion?" Natasha asked.
"No. The feeling is real. We're not dreaming. We are... in the past, but with our present consciousness."
"We came back... but not in our current bodies. We returned to our old bodies." Natasha said in astonishment.
"Yes." Maria confirmed. "Our consciousness is what traveled."
A moment of silence passed.
"That voice..." Natasha said suddenly.
Maria frowned, recalling.
"Yes... before everything exploded. We heard it. It said: Nothing is impossible."
"Who was it? No one there was capable of such a thing."
"The voice was unfamiliar. No one from our team or our enemies, and believe me, I memorized that for emergencies."
"I noticed that too, a quiet voice... clear... incomprehensible but understood... it's just hard to explain."
Natasha looked at Maria seriously: "Do you think we were given a chance?"
"Or forced to think so." Maria replied sharply.
They exchanged glances, and doubt slowly crept in.
"Is this mercy? Or a trap?"
"I don't know." Maria whispered. "But nothing about this makes sense. No time machine. No rescue plan. Just... consciousness transferred, like a chess piece moved on a board bigger than us."
"Is it an entity?" Natasha wondered.
"Maybe. An entity that sees the world as a game. Rearranges the pieces as it pleases, giving us the illusion of control."
"Or it wants us to fix what we failed at... to achieve a greater goal." Natasha said.
"And why now? And why us?" Maria asked.
"Maybe because we were the last to fall. Or because we felt the most regret."
"And this entity... knew where to enter. Through regret."
Maria stood up and walked to the window. Outside the office, everything seemed normal. New York five years ago, as she remembered it. Crowds, noise, life... before the great collapse.
"Now..." she said quietly, "what do we do?"
Natasha approached and stood beside her.
"We don't even know if we're the only ones who returned."
"Or if we're truly in the past, or inside a simulation... or inside an illusion created by someone's mind."
"But we seem to have one chance."
"Yes." Maria said. "And we will use it... but cautiously."
For Natasha and Maria, this was a cause for suspicion and it was difficult for them to trust this entity. And since they were spies, the situation was even worse.
But if they knew one thing, it was that they had to move quickly to prevent the world from spiraling into decline.
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