Pietro's first instinct after hearing Richard's pointed advice was to argue back—his pride bristled at being lectured like a child who'd made a foolish mistake. However, as he replayed the events at that criminal storefront in his mind, he found himself swallowing his defensive words.
The memory of how quickly the situation had turned dangerous, how helpless he and Wanda had been against armed criminals, was still fresh and unsettling. Instead of voicing his objections, Pietro turned his head away with the sullen expression of someone who knew they were wrong but didn't want to admit it.
Richard noticed the young man's internal struggle and smiled slightly, choosing not to press the point further. Sometimes the most valuable lessons were the ones people taught themselves.
The gold shop clerk finished processing their transaction efficiently, presenting them with a sturdy briefcase containing neatly organized stacks of both U.S. dollars and Sokovian currency. Richard gestured for Pietro to verify the count, watching as the young man carefully checked the denominations and amounts with the practiced eye of someone who'd learned not to trust blindly.
Once Pietro confirmed everything was correct, the trio left the legitimate establishment and began the next phase of Richard's informal orientation program for the Maximoff twins.
Their first stop was an upscale restaurant in Sokovia's central district—the kind of establishment that Pietro and Wanda had only seen from the outside during their years of scraping by as orphans. Richard watched with quiet satisfaction as the siblings experienced proper service and quality cuisine, their wonder at simple luxuries like cloth napkins and multiple courses serving as a reminder of how dramatically their circumstances had just changed.
Following dinner, Richard guided them to a reputable real estate agency where he rented a spacious luxury apartment in one of the city's better neighborhoods. The contrast with their previous living situation was striking—floor-to-ceiling windows, modern appliances, separate bedrooms, and perhaps most importantly, a secure building in a safe area where they wouldn't need to worry about crime or violence.
By the time they finished handling the paperwork and received the keys, evening had arrived and the day's activities were drawing to a close.
Although the apartment had multiple bedrooms and Richard would have been welcome to stay, he declined the implied invitation. After bidding Pietro and Wanda farewell and ensuring they understood how to contact the building's management if any issues arose, he teleported to high altitude and used the Cosmic Cube to open a spatial gateway back to Los Angeles.
The time zone difference meant it was already well past midnight on the West Coast when he emerged from the portal above the City of Angels. The urban landscape stretched out below him in a glittering tapestry of lights, from the crowded downtown core to the sprawling residential neighborhoods that extended toward the distant mountains.
Richard didn't mind the late hour—sleep was more of a luxury than a necessity for someone with his enhanced physiology. He teleported down to street level in the city center and began making arrangements for his own accommodations.
Since he'd left all the exchanged currency with Pietro and Wanda, Richard needed to acquire some local operating funds. This proved to be a simple matter of "visiting" several organized crime bosses throughout Los Angeles, relieving them of their ill-gotten gains through a combination of telepathic persuasion and overwhelming displays of power.
Within an hour, he had accumulated tens of millions of dollars in cash—more than sufficient for his immediate needs.
While Richard lacked any legal identification in this universe, such bureaucratic obstacles were trivial for someone with his abilities. A brief telepathic suggestion to the hotel receptionist at an exclusive five-star establishment solved the registration problem, though he still insisted on paying for the presidential suite himself. The young woman's salary, while respectable, was nowhere near sufficient to cover luxury accommodations, and Richard had no intention of creating financial hardship for an innocent bystander.
Presidential Suite - Late Night
Richard settled into the marble-appointed bathroom, letting hot water fill the oversized tub as he considered his next moves in this universe. While completing the world challenge itself would be relatively straightforward—he knew exactly when and where each Infinity Stone would become available—he was beginning to formulate plans that would make his extended stay more interesting and productive.
The idea that crystallized in his mind was both ambitious and personally satisfying: the complete conquest and reorganization of Hydra.
While such a dramatic intervention would certainly alter the established timeline, Richard wasn't particularly concerned about butterfly effects. As long as he avoided actions that would fundamentally derail major plot points—such as killing key figures like Tony Stark or Thor—the overall trajectory of events should remain manageable.
Besides, bringing Hydra under his control would provide him with a ready-made infrastructure for operating in this world, complete with resources, personnel, and intelligence networks that spanned the globe.
After soaking in the luxurious bath for the better part of an hour, Richard finally retired to the suite's king-sized bed, his mind already working through the practical aspects of his ambitious plan.
The Next Day - Noon
Richard woke naturally as afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his suite. After retrieving fresh clothes from his system storage and completing his morning routine, he enjoyed an excellent lunch in the hotel's restaurant before returning to the privacy of his rooms.
It was time to begin the Hydra project.
Summoning the Cosmic Cube, Richard tore open a spatial gateway to Washington, D.C.—specifically, to the airspace above the distinctive triskelion-shaped building that served as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters.
In this universe, Alexander Pierce held the position of Secretary of the World Security Council, making him one of the most powerful men in global intelligence and security operations. What the public didn't know—but Richard certainly did—was that Pierce was also one of Hydra's most senior leaders, having spent decades infiltrating and corrupting S.H.I.E.L.D. from within.
After emerging from the portal and closing it behind him, Richard extended his telepathic abilities to scan the massive building below. It took only moments to locate Pierce's distinctive mental signature on the top floor of the complex.
Rather than immediately teleporting to the man's location, Richard took the opportunity to thoroughly examine Pierce's memories and current thoughts. What he found confirmed his expectations about the timeline.
The Winter Soldier program was fully operational, with Bucky Barnes serving as Hydra's primary assassin. The Zola Algorithm—Dr. Arnim Zola's digital consciousness and his predictive targeting system—was already functional and being used to identify future threats to Hydra's plans. Most importantly, the Insight Project was well underway.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was currently constructing a new generation of helicarriers designed to provide global surveillance and elimination capabilities. While only one prototype existed at the moment, still equipped with conventional turbine engines, production was proceeding rapidly. According to Pierce's knowledge, Tony Stark would eventually be brought in to upgrade the propulsion systems, replacing the turbines with his advanced repulsors.
Satisfied that he had extracted all the relevant intelligence from Pierce's mind, Richard teleported directly into the man's office.
Pierce sat behind an imposing desk, reviewing classified documents with the focused attention of someone accustomed to dealing with matters of global significance. He was dressed in an expensive gray suit that projected the image of a distinguished civil servant—exactly the kind of respectable facade that had allowed him to rise so high within the legitimate intelligence community while secretly serving Hydra's interests.
Richard's sudden materialization in the chair across from Pierce's desk caused the older man to freeze mid-sentence, his eyes widening with shock and alarm.
While Pierce might not have immediately recognized the intruder, he was experienced enough to understand that someone capable of bypassing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s extensive security measures represented a serious threat.
"Who are you?" Pierce demanded, his hand moving instinctively toward the concealed weapon he kept within easy reach.
"My name is Richard," came the calm reply. "As you've just witnessed, I possess certain superhuman abilities."
"What do you want?" Pierce's tone had shifted to the careful neutrality of a professional negotiator, though his posture remained tense and ready for action.
"I'm here to offer my assistance," Richard said with deceptive casualness.
Pierce's expression hardened immediately. "I don't require assistance of any kind. Please leave my office immediately."
As he spoke, Pierce reached for the secure phone on his desk, clearly intending to summon security personnel.
"If you're not concerned about them discovering that you're one of Hydra's senior leaders, by all means, call for help," Richard suggested pleasantly.
Pierce's hand froze above the phone. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"There's no one else here, Alexander. There's no need for the innocent act." Richard's tone became more serious, though he remained seated in a relaxed position. "I'm prepared to unify all of Hydra's scattered branches under single leadership. I know you're currently fragmented into several competing factions, and I know who leads each of them."
He leaned forward slightly, his green eyes fixed on Pierce's face. "I'm offering you an opportunity to serve as my subordinate without being eliminated in the process. Otherwise, today will be the last day of your life, and you'll never see your precious Insight Project come to fruition."
Pierce fell silent, his mind racing as he processed the implications of what he'd just heard. While encountering a superhuman wasn't entirely unprecedented—S.H.I.E.L.D. had dealt with enhanced individuals before—Richard's detailed knowledge of Hydra's internal structure and secret operations was deeply alarming.
More troubling still was the absolute confidence in Richard's voice when he spoke about killing Pierce. This wasn't the bluster of someone making empty threats; it was the matter-of-fact certainty of someone who had both the ability and willingness to follow through on his promises.
"Who exactly are you?" Pierce asked, his voice carefully controlled.
"As I mentioned, my name is Richard, and I'm a superhuman." The response was deliberately unhelpful, offering no additional insight into Richard's origins or motivations.
After several seconds of tense silence, Pierce tried a different approach. "I can't simply take your word for any of this."
"You don't need to believe me," Richard replied with a slight shrug. "You only need to choose whether to accept my offer or reject it. Accept, and you continue living. Refuse, and I kill you immediately."
He stood up from his chair and walked casually toward Pierce's impressive wine cabinet. "I'll give you one minute to consider your options."
As Richard examined the selection of bottles, he commented over his shoulder, "Your wine collection is rather disappointing. These are all standard commercial whiskeys—nothing particularly noteworthy."
His tone remained conversational as he added, "Oh, and you can set down that gun you're holding. Firearms are designed to deal with ordinary humans. They're completely useless against me."
Pierce's face showed a mixture of frustration and growing fear as he realized his concealed weapon had been detected without Richard even turning around. After a moment of internal debate, he reluctantly placed the pistol back in its drawer.
Richard selected a bottle that seemed marginally better than the others and poured himself a measure, taking a thoughtful sip. While he was no expert sommelier, he had consumed enough high-quality spirits during his various adventures to recognize the difference between premium and mediocre products.
This particular whiskey was adequate for business entertaining but nothing special compared to the truly exceptional bottles he'd enjoyed in the past.
Time passed with agonizing slowness from Pierce's perspective, each second bringing him closer to a decision that would determine whether he lived or died.
"Time's up," Richard announced, turning back to face Pierce with the glass still in his hand. "What's your final answer?"
"I'll accept your offer," Pierce said quickly, though his tone suggested the decision was motivated more by survival instinct than genuine enthusiasm. "I'd also like to see how you plan to unify Hydra's various factions."
His expression and words projected sincerity, but Richard shook his head slightly. "You shouldn't try to deceive someone with telepathic abilities, Alexander. I can read your thoughts as easily as you might scan a newspaper."
Pierce's facade cracked slightly as he realized the full extent of Richard's capabilities.
"Even if you arranged for the Winter Soldier to attack me directly, he wouldn't be able to inflict any meaningful damage," Richard continued matter-of-factly. "It's perfectly natural for you to harbor reservations about surrendering to someone you've just met. If you had agreed immediately and enthusiastically, that would have been far more suspicious."
He took another sip of whiskey before continuing. "However, I do need to provide a demonstration of what happens when people entertain thoughts of betrayal."
Without any warning, intense red light blazed from Richard's eyes. Twin beams of concentrated heat struck Pierce's right shoulder with surgical precision, burning completely through muscle and bone in an instant.
Pierce's scream of agony echoed through the office as he clutched at the smoking wound, blood seeping between his fingers.
"Consider that a gentle reminder," Richard said calmly, as if he hadn't just maimed a man. "Next time, I won't aim for your shoulder. I'll target your head."
He set down his glass and moved toward the door. "Call for medical assistance. You should know what to tell them and what to keep to yourself."
With that, Richard simply vanished, leaving Pierce alone with his pain and the sobering realization that his life had just become far more complicated.
After several seconds of shock-induced paralysis, Pierce managed to reach for his phone and contact security. When two guards arrived at his office moments later, they found their superior bleeding heavily but conscious.
"Take me to the medical bay immediately," Pierce ordered through gritted teeth, offering no explanation for his condition.
"Yes, sir!" both guards responded, carefully helping Pierce to his feet and escorting him toward the building's medical facilities.
10,000 Feet Above the Triskelion
Richard floated in the thin air high above S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, using his enhanced vision to observe the activity below as Pierce was rushed to receive treatment. His acute hearing allowed him to monitor conversations throughout the building, providing real-time intelligence about the organization's response to the incident.
Within minutes, Nick Fury—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s current director—arrived at the medical bay accompanied by Agent Maria Hill. Both wore expressions of serious concern as they watched Pierce receive emergency care through the observation window.
"Who attacked him?" Fury asked curtly, his single visible eye fixed on the medical team working to stabilize Pierce's condition.
"Unknown, sir," Hill replied efficiently. "He hasn't identified his attacker. I've ordered a complete review of all security footage and begun questioning the guards who brought him in, but so far we have no leads."
Fury's frown deepened. "Lock down all information about this incident immediately. Pierce is a member of the World Security Council. If word gets out that he was attacked inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, it'll create a political nightmare."
"I already initiated the information blackout before coming here," Hill assured him.
"Good. It looks like he'll survive. Come with me to examine his office."
As Fury and Hill departed for Pierce's office, Richard smiled slightly. Their entire conversation had been perfectly audible to him, and he had also taken the opportunity to scan both of their minds for useful intelligence.
The most valuable information he'd extracted concerned the current location of Captain America. Steve Rogers had been recovered from his decades-long frozen state but had not yet awakened. S.H.I.E.L.D. was currently studying the best methods for safely reviving someone who had been preserved in ice for over seventy years.
Having obtained what he needed from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s leadership, Richard teleported from Washington to New York City, materializing above a concealed S.H.I.E.L.D. facility near Times Square.
According to the intelligence he'd gathered from Fury's memories, this was where they were keeping the still-unconscious Steve Rogers while their medical teams worked to understand his unique condition.
Richard remained at high altitude, using his superhuman vision to observe the sleeping figure of Captain America through the facility's reinforced walls and floors. Even in his current state, Rogers emanated the quiet strength and nobility that had made him a symbol of hope during World War II.