One Month Later – S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, Global Security Briefing Room
The screen flickered with logos: CNN, BBC, RT, Al Jazeera, Wakandan National Voice, and Xinhua. A dozen channels playing simultaneously—each with the same focus: President Stephen Lance Carter and the aftermath of the Washington Ascension Event.
A panel of world leaders appeared in split screens.
"The United States must disclose the full extent of the President's new capabilities."
"No single nation should have access to a being that powerful."
"We urge the formation of a planetary coalition to monitor mutant and meta-human activity."
"The emergence of a Kryptonian-like anomaly in a global superpower threatens the delicate balance of peace."
A grim-faced man from the U.N. Security Council leaned forward in the center feed.
"We are no longer dealing with politics. We are dealing with gods."
S.H.I.E.L.D. analysts whispered nervously behind their consoles.
"Economic sanctions," one muttered. "Foreign assets frozen. Allied nations hesitating military pacts. The EU wants to suspend trade treaties unless transparency is guaranteed."
"They're scared," Hill said bluntly, arms folded, watching the news. "They don't know if he's the next Superman or the next Injustice Superman ."
A shadow moved in the hallway behind them.
Elsewhere – S.H.I.E.L.D. Hallway
Natasha Romanoff, dressed in her tactical blacks, walked quietly toward her quarters, her expression unreadable.
She had witnessed the kiss between Toni and Lance. Had walked in like the rest, smirking, teasing, masking her storm of emotions with a joke and a shrug.
But now, alone, the mask was crumbling.
He kissed her like he meant it, Nat thought. Like I always dreamed he would kiss me.
Nine years.
Nine years since the day he tore the Red Room down.
Flashback – 1999, Siberian Facility, RED ROOM
Explosions echoed as crimson warning lights bathed the underground halls. Widows—deadly assassins trained from childhood—ran in confusion.
And at the center of the chaos… him.
Lance. In a black combat suit, cloaked in smoke and fire, wielding only a chi-imbued blade and his brutal military precision.
He moved like a ghost through hell, disarming guards, disabling security, and shielding the young girls huddled in terror.
He found Yelena first—angry, wild, and scared.
Then Natasha—already dangerous, but broken inside.
She had expected death. Instead, he offered his hand.
"Come with me," he'd said. "I'll never let them hurt you again."
And she'd believed him.
Back to Present – S.H.I.E.L.D. Hallway
Natasha stopped at a quiet stretch of corridor outside the medical wing. The steel walls hummed faintly.
She could hear his voice in a nearby room, giving orders to an aide. Calm. Collected. Always in control.
But she wasn't in control anymore.
He could've died, she thought. I could've lost him without ever saying it.
Suddenly, her heart moved before her mind could stop it.
She turned sharply, grabbed Lance by the arm as he stepped out into the corridor, and shoved him into a storage room.
The lights flickered on. Dust. Crates. Silence.
"What—?"
She slammed the door shut and locked it behind her.
Then, without a word, she grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and kissed him.
Hard.
It was not delicate. Not sweet. It was raw, hungry, desperate. She poured nine years of unspoken longing into it.
Lance pulled back slightly, eyes wide. "Natasha—"
"You think I didn't see it?" she hissed. "You think I don't know what that kiss meant to her? To you?"
She ripped open the zipper of her tactical suit halfway, breathing hard. "I've known you just as long. I've bled for you. Killed for you. You gave me a life. And I've spent years pretending I didn't want this."
She leaned in again. Softer this time. "I don't want to pretend anymore."
Her hand reached for the clasp on her shoulder strap—
BRRRT-BRRRT!
Both of their phones vibrated at the same time.
They froze.
Lance pulled his out, looked at the screen.
INCOMING ALERT: GLOBAL SECURITY THREAT LEVEL RAISED – WHITE HOUSE REQUESTING PRESIDENTIAL PRESENCE IMMEDIATELY
Natasha groaned.
Lance smirked faintly. "Duty calls."
She took a deep breath, chest rising and falling.
Then gave him a devilish smirk. "This isn't over."
He kissed her forehead, lingered for just a moment too long.
"I hope not," he whispered.
As she watched him walk away, Natasha leaned back against the door and exhaled hard.
Then muttered to herself:
"I swear, next time I am finishing what I started."
Yelena had stormed off after locking Lance in that storage room. That kiss—the one she'd seen like everyone else—that kiss haunted Yelena still.
She closed the door behind her, footsteps soft on metal grating. In the dim light, she caught sight of Magnus-engraved tattoos. Still, her own heart thundered with a nostalgic fear and longing.
Nat always outshined me. Better assassin, better leader—always.
The memory of their shared history with Lance flickered behind her eyes:
Flashback — 1999, After Red Room Raid
Lance had stormed the Siberian compound, but Yelena had been the first to leap into the fray. Accurate shots, brutal takedowns. She threw herself before a dying instructor to protect a young agent.
Natasha had been pinned. Yelena had punched through metal with nothing but fury, ripping her out, both of them escaping under Lance's dragster assault.
He caught them at the extraction point—his arms around both of them, pulling them into the chopper.
We're free, he'd whispered.
But even as they rolled away in the roar of rotors, Yelena had glared at Nat: He chose you first.
Back to Present
Her fists curled. "Nine years," she whispered softly, voice shaking, "and I've watched her… kiss him and not me."
Tonight, she'd sworn she wouldn't chase shadows. But seeing Nat with Lance—like that—it felt like a dagger twisting deeper than any mission wound.
She slid to a storage locker, pressing her forehead to cold metal. He saved us, adopted us. And still… I feel less.
She pushed away and strode back into the corridor, hearing muted footsteps ahead—Lance's.
Geopolitical Fallout — The Ascension and Global Reaction
Situation Room, White House — Early Morning
The Command Center pulsed with urgency. Screens showed red hotspots: Washington D.C., parts of Washington (state), London, Moscow. Black and white maps crisscrossed with cables and satellites.
Newest intelligence:
$3.1 billion in immediate economic sanctions targeted American industries connected to metahuman tech.
European Union temporarily suspended strategic security cooperation under Article 42.7.
UN Security Council scheduled emergency session in 48 hours to discuss global oversight mechanisms for meta-leaders.
China issued a statement: "Any nation granting unchecked authority to a superhuman leader undermines global stability and peace as outlined in current hegemonic stability norms" .
Russia mobilized hybrid warfare briefings; military forces were on higher readiness; cyber operations targeted U.S. financial infrastructure.
On the floor, analysts debated.
"It's a question of polarity," a strategist said. "The U.S. is shifting from hegemon to superhuman-centric world leader. Others feel obligated to balance." unicusolympiads.com
"There's historical precedent," a diplomat added. "When Britain dominated—Pax Britannica—it didn't sit right with others. They created institutions. Now they'll do the same—only faster."
Lance leaned forward, hands steepled.
"I won't resign," he said, voice measured. "But I will propose a Global Meta-Supervision Treaty. Not on surrender. On transparency." His words echoed in stone walls.
He continued: "We'll agree to real-world monitoring—by U.N. personnel, not American tech—with strict data-sharing. We'll trade access to classified battlefield intel for human rights oversight. And we'll publish an annual international meta-impact report—economics, diplomacy, ethics."
He tapped his tablet: models show losses under multilateral trade frameworks are contained; allies pledge conditional support if accountability exists. It's the new form of "champion diplomacy," daring, direct—public enough to frame global narrative on American terms.
An aide chimed in: "Egypt, India, Brazil—they're watching. They expect leadership, but they're wary. If we lead with transparency, they follow. If not, we get isolated."
Lance nodded. "Arrange calls to London, France,Russia and China UN envoy. Schedule the treaty announcement before the U.N. meeting. Frame it as a new stability model for a superhuman age."
Natasha's Inner Thoughts
She watched him stride from the room—poise impeccable, burden gigantic. A hero, a threat, a man she loved—and likely would never fully have.
Nat's smile was bittersweet.
She's not the only one who saved that world. I helped pull him out of darkness. But it's always been his mind and strength he fell for—not my red hair or Ukrainian accent.
But maybe… maybe tonight was the night she stopped watching from the sidelines.
Yelena's Next Move
Later in the corridor, Yelena intercepted Lance as he passed near her quarters.
"Sir," she began, straightening.
He paused, noticing the fatigue in her eyes. "Belova?"
"I… heard," she hesitated. "About the treaty." She paused, searching his gaze. "It's smart. The world needs something to rally behind. Not fear."
He nodded, impressed. "I could use your voice. You understand global threats."
She blinked, surprised. "Me?"
"Yes." He smiled with warmth—no hint of cold politics.
She swallowed. "Okay. I'll draft a field report. Then... maybe we talk."
He watched her walk away, shoulders a little taller.
📌 Key Political Shifts (Recap)
IssueStatusInternational Sanctions$3.1B, still escalatingEU CooperationSuspended, pending oversight treatyU.N. Emergency SessionScheduled < 48hChina-Russia ResponseCautious challenges, strategic responses
Global context reflects multipolar anxiety, where nations balance against not just U.S. power, but a superhuman American with Kryptonian potential, creating a new balance-of-power nexus—between tech, treaties, and the threat of ascended power. unicusolympiads.comcore-cms.prod.aop.cambridge.org
🔚 Wrap-Up & Emotional Undercurrents
Natasha: Torn, jealous, yet deeply proud—her confession moment may come soon.
Yelena: Plotting a place where she isn't second—a rising star, battling mind and heart.
Lance: Steering tectonic shifts in international order without yielding his seat.
Global Stage: A new treaty, new diplomacy—Lance's "champion diplomacy" reframes metahuman world leadership.
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