"Your question is quite intriguing. Unfortunately, there's no need for me to tell the answer to two people who are about to die..."
From the retro computer came Dr. Zola's eerie, intermittent voice, carrying a hint of gloating.
At the same time, the defense mechanisms activated.
The security doors began to close slowly.
Steve hurriedly flung out his shield, intending to jam the doors open, but he was a step too late.
The shield scraped up a shower of sparks before being knocked back by the tightly sealed doors.
Then came the thunderous roar of missiles piercing through the ceiling, exploding beside their ears.
The instant before the explosion.
Steve instinctively shoved Natasha into the deep sewer trench. Only the protection of his shield spared him from disaster.
After the explosion, the entire building had been reduced to ruins. Steve crawled out of the rubble in a miserable state, covered in dust.
Black Widow, however, did not possess Captain America's super-soldier physique and had fallen unconscious in the blast.
Shaking his slightly dizzy head, Steve pondered what exactly the algorithm Dr. Zola had mentioned was.
Since when could a math problem become a weapon?
And it sounded incredibly powerful, too.
Forget it. If he couldn't figure it out, he wouldn't think about it.
Picking up the unconscious Natasha, Steve chose to take refuge temporarily at the home of a friend he had met while jogging in the morning—Falcon, Sam Wilson.
Inside the simple yet comfortable silver-gray space, soft genuine-leather sofas were scattered across the carpet. The sensor coffee table had been repaired, and several cans of cola sat on it.
Agent Hill curiously observed her surroundings.
Meanwhile, Nick Fury was wolfing down boxed meals in front of him as if he had been reincarnated from a starving ghost.
Every