S.H.I.E.L.D. Barracks — Night
Yelena Belova paused in the doorway, black widow suit unzipped halfway, mask hanging loose. She'd heard the corridor clatter—Natasha 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 Merkel, Macron, Xi's 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.