(Didn't do the rewrite)
….
Inside the Quinjet, the atmosphere was thick with a heavy, disoriented silence. Captain America sat staring at his hands, lost in the lingering echoes of whatever vision Wanda had forced upon him.
Natasha was curled up, trying to shake off the mental demons Wanda had dredged up. Only Clint Barton, Hawkeye, was fully alert, though his expression was grim.
He'd recognized Wanda's approach, the subtle energy gathering around her.
The memory of being Loki's puppet was a scar on his soul, and he refused to let anyone, especially some kid with mind-control powers, pull his strings again.
A well-aimed taser arrow had dropped Wanda before she could fully ensnare him.
Steve was physically fine, but the vision—a peaceful life, a dance he'd missed—had unsettled him deeply. Nearby, Wanda and Pietro lay on the cold metal floor of the jet.
Wanda's dark hair was a tangled mess, her face pale in her unconscious state. Pietro's body, however, was already knitting itself back together.
A speedster's metabolism meant accelerated healing; the shattered bones in his leg were rapidly repairing, and the temporary shutdown Gojo had induced was beginning to lose its grip.
A few moments passed in silence. Then, with a sudden surge of motion, Pietro's eyes snapped open. He was healed enough.
In less than a second, he was on his feet, scooping his still-unconscious sister into his arms, and bolting out of the open ramp of the Quinjet.
Clint, reacting with pure instinct, loosed an arrow the instant Pietro moved, but the speedster was already gone, a silver blur against the African landscape.
The arrow clattered uselessly against the ramp.
Hawkeye had missed. Wanda and Pietro were on the loose again. It was clear their work wasn't finished.
Before anyone else could fully react to the escape, the trio from the battlefield returned. Tony landed his Iron Man suit with a thud, while Gojo warped inside, followed by a now-conscious, though visibly battered and exhausted, Bruce Banner, who looked like he'd been through a war.
Clint slumped down next to Natasha, offering a supportive shoulder. "You're about three seconds too late," he said, his voice laced with frustration. "Those two just left. Or rather, the boy ran off with his sister."
Tony retracted his helmet, his face etched with weariness. "Really? Couldn't handle two powered-up people?" He looked around the jet. "Any idea where they went?"
"No idea," Steve said, finally shaking himself out of his stupor. "It seems his broken leg repaired itself much faster than we anticipated. His sister was still unconscious when he took her."
Gojo, looking remarkably refreshed, shrugged. "Don't worry about it too much. They'll probably think twice before trying to attack us directly again." He looked towards the cockpit. "So, who's flying this thing back? I don't mind doing you all the favor."
"I'll do it," Tony interrupted immediately, already moving towards the pilot's seat. He needed something to focus on other than the impossible display of power he had just witnessed.
….
Avengers/Stark Tower, New York:-
The pristine common room was now a battlefield. Thor, Mjolnir a blur of motion, smashed through Iron Legionnaire after Iron Legionnaire.
They were no match for the God of Thunder, their metal bodies crumpling under his might.
A new, sleeker drone, clearly housing Ultron's primary consciousness, flew down to face him, hovering just out of reach. "Just as I said," Ultron's smooth voice echoed, a stark contrast to the sounds of destruction.
"The Avengers. The only true hindrance to my plan." He tilted his head.
"I don't understand why you even try, when you know you will lose in the end. It's a trait written about in your own books, by your own people… what do they call it? Resilience? Stubbornness? Like a cockroach, you humans keep trying, refusing to accept the inevitable." Ultron stared at Thor, his optical sensors glowing with a cold, analytical light. The real battle, he knew, was just beginning.
"Do Gods too are like humans… A Cockroach with stubbornness and Resilience?"
Thor stood firm, Mjolnir crackling with latent lightning, his gaze locked on Ultron. "You will not get the Scepter from me, machine," he declared, his voice a low rumble. "You can try all you want. But you will not succeed."
Ultron landed gracefully on the polished floor of the Tower, his movements fluid and unnervingly human-like.
"And how, precisely, do you intend to defeat me?" Ultron countered, his voice calm and analytical.
"I have a whole Iron Legion at my command. You are alone. The Avengers are not here. There is no support for you. I fail to see the scenario in which I lose."
Ultron was keenly aware that Thor could, at any moment, use the Bifrost to transport himself and the Scepter to Asgard. That would be a significant setback to his plans.
"Don't even try to escape to Asgard," Ultron continued, a subtle threat lacing his tone. "Or, you can go. But I fail to understand why you haven't yet. Did the Avengers… Captain America, perhaps? Or was it Tony Stark who convinced you to stay here, to guard this bauble on their behalf?" He paused.
"You can still go. But the consequences that will follow… they will bring you regrets upon regrets, for all of your long life. I hope you will appreciate the… art I will create for Jane Foster, and all the others you hold dear on this fragile world."
To ensure Thor was occupied, Ultron had indeed brought a considerable number of Iron Legionnaires with him.
Their directive was simple: cause chaos, attack anyone in the vicinity of the Tower. This had forced Thor out into the open, to defend the innocent, and it had worked.
Thor, with Mjolnir, had been a whirlwind of destruction, taking down drone after drone, but not without some casualties among civilians and significant damage to the surrounding buildings.
Ultron was also stalling, buying precious time. He knew Pietro and Wanda were en route. And, as if summoned by his very thought, they arrived.
Pietro, a silver blur, zipped into the ravaged Tower, Wanda, now conscious but still weak and leaning heavily on him, in his arms.
With Ultron keeping Thor's attention fixed, Pietro, using his incredible speed, silently maneuvered Wanda behind the preoccupied God of Thunder.
Before Thor could even register the new threat, before he could react to the subtle shift in the air, Wanda struck.
Her crimson energy flared, and Thor was plunged forcefully into a waking nightmare, an illusion tailored to his deepest fears and regrets.
His grip on Mjolnir, which he had refused to let go of even for a second, slackened.
Ultron moved forward then, a predator closing in on its prey. He reached out and easily took the Scepter from Thor's unresisting hand. The blue gem pulsed faintly in his metallic grip.
"Is it still truly a god," Ultron mused, looking at the ensnared Thor, then at the Scepter, "if a mere mortal, enhanced though she may be, can so easily influence its mind with powers born of this very artifact? Or is 'god' just a title they were born with, a meaningless label from a bygone era?" He turned the Scepter over in his hand.
"Well, to me, it is just a name. And a title. And now, this," he gestured with the Scepter, "is mine."
….
A/N: So, How was the Chapter? The Scepter has gone into Ultron hands and thanks for loadedDemigod/DemiCatoru for suggestion for the story.
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