Elric's head lifted slowly from his plate, and despite everything going on outside, a soft, almost gentle smile played at the corners of his lips.
"Honey, did you need something?" His voice came out smooth and warm, like honey dripping from a spoon.
The sudden sweetness in his tone completely blindsided Natasha. She actually froze for a second there—because this guy's voice? It didn't match his face at all. His eyes were way too calm. Too indifferent. Like he was looking at something a million miles away instead of a federal agent standing right in front of him.
Psychopath? The word popped into her head unbidden. Something about this man felt seriously off. Like standing too close to the edge of a cliff—you couldn't see the danger, but you could feel it.
Yeah, no thanks. Better not get tangled up with someone like this.
She deliberately sharpened her voice, letting authority bleed into every word. "Did you not see the destruction outside? Why the hell are you still sitting here calmly eating?"
"Oh."
Elric blinked once, twice. Completely unfazed. Like she'd just asked him about the weather instead of a literal disaster zone.
"What does the outside destruction have to do with me?" He said it so casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Let me finish my meal first, then I'll leave."
Natasha felt her jaw clench. Her teeth grinding together. This guy...
"I'm from the FBI," she bit out, trying to regain control of the situation. "This is an official—"
BLAAAARE!
A loud, piercing alarm suddenly cut through the air.
Natasha's hand shot to her communicator on instinct, fingers wrapping around the small device. She pressed the button. Nothing. No static. No connection. The little screen stayed dark and silent.
What the hell?
Before the confusion could fully settle in, that same calm, unhurried voice chimed in again from behind her.
"Sorry about that. That's mine."
Natasha spun around, and her eyes went wide.
Elric had pulled out some kind of device from his pocket—sleek, streamlined, with a faint blue glow emanating from its surface. It looked like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. Nothing like anything a regular civilian should be casually carrying around while eating cheap noodles in a run-down restaurant.
She'd seen advanced tech before. Hell, she'd used advanced tech before. But this? This was different. This was something else entirely.
Her hand moved toward her gun without conscious thought. Pure instinct. Her whole body tensed up, muscles coiling tight like a spring ready to snap.
But then Elric's expression changed.
The lazy, almost bored look in his eyes vanished the moment he glanced at whatever message had appeared on that strange device. His face tightened. Hardened. A flicker of genuine seriousness cut through his usual indifference.
And just like that, the temperature seemed to drop.
Even though it was the middle of summer, even though the restaurant was stuffy and warm, Natasha felt a cold shiver crawl up her spine like icy fingers trailing along her skin. Her grip on her gun tightened without her even realizing it, knuckles going white.
What the hell was this feeling?
Then—just as suddenly as it appeared—the tension vanished.
The man smiled again. Gentle. Harmless. Like absolutely nothing had happened.
"Okay, beauty," he said lightly, standing up from his chair with an easy grace. "Seems like I've got a guest waiting for me at home. Tell you what—if we meet again sometime, I'll invite you for dinner. Proper dinner, not this cheap stuff."
"Sir, you have to come with me—" Natasha started, taking a step forward.
But Elric vanished.
Right there. Right in front of her eyes.
One second he was standing by the table, that infuriating little smile still on his face. The next second—gone. Like he'd never been there at all.
Natasha blinked once.
Blinked twice.
Then actually rubbed her eyes hard, pressing her palms against them until she saw spots.
Her heartbeat kicked into overdrive as she spun around, scanning every corner of the restaurant. The kitchen. The bathroom. Behind the counter. Under the tables.
Nothing. Not a single trace of him. No sound of footsteps running. No door slamming. No windows breaking.
Just... gone.
She walked over to the chair he'd been sitting in and cautiously reached out, pressing her palm against the worn fabric.
Still warm.
The heat from his body was still there, radiating into her hand.
So definitely not an illusion. Definitely not a hallucination. He'd been real. He'd been right there.
After checking the entire place three more times—opening closets, looking under counters, even checking the damn ceiling—she finally stepped outside, her expression completely dazed.
How the hell did he disappear like that? Some kind of advanced tech? Did civilians just walk around with personal teleportation devices now? When did that become a thing?
"Did you see that?" Natasha turned sharply to the female agent standing nearby, the one who'd been stationed closest to the entrance.
The woman was still staring down at the same page of the simple, one-page report Natasha had handed her earlier. She hadn't even flipped it over. A single page shouldn't take someone ten minutes to read.
"See what, ma'am?" The agent looked genuinely confused.
"What about you?" Natasha whipped around to another agent.
"No, ma'am. I was taking a quick nap in the car." He yawned, as if to prove his point.
"And you?"
"No, ma'am. Didn't see anything unusual."
One by one, she went down the line. All six agents—highly trained professionals who were supposed to be monitoring the area—gave her the same response. They hadn't been paying attention to the restaurant. At all.
Coincidence?
Or something else?
Seeing Natasha's increasingly confused and frustrated expression, the female agent finally asked carefully, "Ma'am, did something happen inside?"
"The homeless man," Natasha said slowly, each word deliberate. "He suddenly vanished. Into thin air."
The agent's eyebrows furrowed. "...What homeless man?"
"The one who was sitting inside the restaurant. The guy you specifically told me to go check on."
"What are you talking about?" The woman's confusion looked completely genuine. "You just went to use the toilet, ma'am. Did you... did you slip and hit your head or something?"
Their reactions were too natural. Too real. No signs of lying. No nervous tics or tells. Just honest, genuine confusion.
A cold doubt started creeping into Natasha's mind.
Did I imagine the whole thing?
No. No way. She could still feel the warmth from his chair. She could still hear his voice in her head—that weird contrast between the gentle tone and the cold eyes.
"Check all the nearby security cameras," she ordered quickly, her voice sharp and clipped. "I want footage from the last thirty minutes. Now."
The female agent grimaced. "Sorry, ma'am. Because of the earlier explosion in the area, all the security cameras got disabled. Some kind of electromagnetic interference. We've got nothing."
Of course. Of course they didn't.
Natasha stood there on the street, mind racing, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened.
Meanwhile, several blocks away, Elric materialized in a quiet alley.
He'd been controlling the perception of everyone in the surrounding area from the moment Natasha Romanoff had first stepped onto that street.
No chakra in this world, unfortunately—so he couldn't directly manipulate people's minds the way he could back home. But with his massive mental power? Simple suggestions were easy. Child's play, really. Just enough psychic pressure to make the agents' eyes slide right past him. To make them forget the restaurant existed. To convince them they'd been doing something else entirely.
He'd noticed Natasha the instant she entered his range.
Red Room training. Elite combat skills honed to perfection. Strong will. Sharp instincts.
Perfect candidate to receive chakra, he'd mused while watching her walk toward the restaurant.
Most of the Black Widows had been forced into obedience through torture and brainwashing. They had no real loyalty to the Red Room—just fear and conditioning. With someone like Natasha on his side, subduing the others and maybe even dismantling the whole organization wouldn't be impossible.
He'd actually planned to talk more with her. Maybe drop a few hints. Plant some seeds. Possibly even recruit her directly.
But then that alert had come through on his device, and everything changed.
Leo could protect the hidden base, sure. The kid was powerful enough for that. But the little guy still vividly remembered a human killing his mother. Still remembered almost dying himself. Even if Elric explicitly told him to only scare off intruders without hurting them, Leo probably wouldn't listen.
He didn't blame the kid for that. Trauma ran deep. But still...
Sometimes children from the nearby villages wandered into that forest looking for food or firewood. Better safe than sorry.
Besides, there were no working cameras in this area anymore, and he'd made absolutely certain that none of the agents would remember him. Their memories had been gently... adjusted.
It should be fine.
He could always find Natasha later and have that conversation properly.
With one last glance back toward the restaurant, Elric's form flickered once more and disappeared completely, leaving nothing behind but a faint breeze in the empty alley.
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