The commotion at the command center of the Red Room Sky Fortress gradually subsided.
The lingering sound of wind rushed in through the damaged hatch, dispersing the last trace of the tense gunpowder smell and brushing against the faces of everyone present.
Dreykov was beaten beyond recognition by a group of people, lying paralyzed on the ground, unable to move, leaving only a deathly silence and dejection.
The pheromone empire he built with half his life, the cage that imprisoned countless girls for half their lives, collapsed completely tonight.
Natasha stood in the center of the empty command room, her gaze slowly sweeping over her surroundings.
Yelena had finished counting the people. She quickly walked to her side and reported the situation in a low voice.
All the surviving Black Widow had assembled; none were left behind, and none were seriously injured or on the verge of death. Most were simply in a daze, a result of prolonged brainwashing, and lost and disoriented after breaking free of their shackles.
"Everyone's here," Yelena said softly, her voice carrying a hint of weariness mixed with a sense of relief. "What's next? This floating base could break down at any moment; we can't stay any longer."
Natasha nodded slightly, her expression returning to its usual calm and composure, the coldness from before long gone.
She pulled a neatly folded piece of paper from her pocket. The edges of the paper trembled slightly in the night wind. It contained the address of a secluded safe house she had prepared in advance. It was located in a sparsely populated town in North America, remote and secluded, enough to accommodate anyone temporarily.
"Take everyone there first," Natasha said firmly, handing the note to Yelena. "It's safe there. Settle down and rest for a few days."
Yelena took the note, glanced at the address, and looked up at her. "And what about you?"
"I'll stay here and wait for someone to come and take over the situation. I'll come find you as soon as I've finished what I'm doing."
Natasha glanced at the immobilized Dreykov beside her and the devastated aerial base, and said softly, "The equipment, data, wreckage, and Dreykov here all need to be handled by someone else. I need to finish the cleanup work; I can't leave any potential problems for you."
Yelena didn't ask any more questions. Having gone through what had happened recently, she understood Natasha's caution better than anyone else.
Tonight's victory may seem like a complete victory, but if even the slightest Silk is left unchecked, new disasters could still arise in the future.
She nodded emphatically. "Okay, I'll take them there and wait for you. Be careful."
After speaking, Yelena turned and waved, leading the group of Black Widow who had just escaped their cages out of the command center in an orderly fashion. Most of these girls were young, and had spent half their lives trapped in cold training pods and missions, never having experienced freedom. Now, freed from control, their eyes still held lingering fear and confusion as they silently followed Yelena, step by step leaving the aerial fortress that had imprisoned them for so many years.
The vast command center was once again empty.
Natasha looked around and realized that Alexei and Melina were nowhere to be seen.
There were too many people here just now, so I didn't notice where these two people went. I suppose they left quietly while everyone was busy rescuing survivors and controlling the situation.
They didn't say goodbye, offered no explanation, and didn't seek anyone's forgiveness.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming guilt that made him unable to face the two daughters he had personally abandoned.
Or perhaps it was the shackles of being trapped in the Red Room for half a lifetime that had made him accustomed to silence and escapism, and even when the end came, he dared not face the sins of the past.
Natasha stared at the empty passageway, her eyes devoid of emotion—no anger, no regret.
She no longer expected a belated apology, nor did she crave reconciliation. Years later, all the rights and wrongs, debts and regrets had settled with the collapse of the Red Room. Their choice to leave quietly was perhaps the best ending. From then on, they would never meet again, each living their own lives peacefully, without any entanglement between them.
Not long after, a steady engine roar came from the horizon at the edge of the clouds.
Two jet-black Quinjet pierced through the thick clouds and landed steadily on the damaged deck of the base. The hatches slowly opened, and Coulson led a team of fully armed Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. they quickly disembarked, their movements orderly and disciplined.
Coulson's gaze swept quickly across the wrecked base deck, then fell on the barely recognizable 'object' at Natasha's feet, a knowing glint in his eyes.
Without any pleasantries, he walked straight to Natasha and asked in a calm tone, "What's the situation on the ground?"
"Core targets under control, the Red Room completely destroyed, and all those under control rescued."
Natasha reported concisely and clearly, "Everything inside the base is intact and awaits your inspection and sealing."
Coulson nodded and immediately raised his hand to signal the agents behind him to take action.
One team of agents quickly took over the command center, placed the completely incapacitated Dreykov under strict custody, and fitted him with a special restraint device; another team dispersed to search the entire air base layer by layer, registering and storing all classified information and experimental equipment, and methodically cleaning up all the mess left by this incident.
The entire handover process was smooth and efficient, without any setbacks.
Coulson looked at the calm and composed woman before him, paused for a moment, and then said softly, "Thank you for your hard work. Next time something like this happens, feel free to contact us."
Natasha shook her head slightly, without replying.
Half an hour later, all handover work was completely completed.
S.H.I.E.L.D.. Quinjet carrying the detained Dreykov, all classified documents and equipment, slowly ascended into the sky and gradually disappeared into the depths of the clouds. The dilapidated aerial fortress was set to automatic patrol and monitoring mode, and will be taken over and disposed of by S.H.I.E.L.D.. personnel to be completely dismantled and destroyed, eliminating any remaining hidden dangers.
Above the vast expanse of clouds, complete silence finally returned.
Natasha stood alone on the deck, the evening wind whipping her hair. She looked up at the boundless, dark sea of clouds, and her nerves, which had been tense for days, finally began to relax.
She didn't contact Lynn immediately, nor did she share her feelings of relief and melancholy with him.
Meanwhile, Lynn, far away in his New York apartment, sat at the warm kitchen table, looking at the hot food, quietly waiting for his return.
He understood Natasha; he knew she needed to process these things alone, and that she needed to personally put an end to her own suffering, Yelena's suffering, and all the other suffering girls' suffering.
Some emotions don't need to be spoken; the best tenderness comes from knowing each other's feelings.
In the dead of night, a faint, transmitted light appeared in the apartment's living room.
Natasha pushed open the door and entered the room, covered in dust, but her brows and eyes were relaxed, all the killing intent and coldness gone, leaving only ease.
The warm yellow light from inside the room poured down, carrying the lingering warmth of the food, gently soothing her weathered face.
Lynn looked up at her, a faint smile in her eyes, stood up and took her coat, saying softly, "You're back? The food's still warm."
"Mmm." Natasha responded softly, stepped forward, and naturally leaned into his arms, letting down all her guard and exhaustion.
She didn't mention the destruction of the Red Room, the capture of Dreykov, or the group of homeless girls.
Lynn didn't ask anything, but simply raised her hand and gently stroked her long hair, her warm palm pressed against her tense back, quietly keeping her company and helping her to calm down.
Some endings don't need to be spoken. Mutual understanding and support are enough for a peaceful world.
I slept soundly through the night without any dreams.
The next morning, the New York sun shone brightly.
Natasha got up early, got ready, and drove alone to the secluded town she had left for Yelena the night before.
When she pushed open the iron gate of the detached house, the courtyard was eerily quiet.
Nearly a hundred girls were scattered in various corners of the courtyard. Some sat on the steps in a daze, some leaned against the wall and closed their eyes to rest, but no one spoke or moved around freely.
They were like a group of puppets whose strings had been suddenly cut; though they had broken free of their cage, they didn't know where to place their feet.
Yelena sat on a wooden chair on the veranda, holding a cup of tea that had long since gone cold, her eyes bloodshot from staying up all night.
Upon seeing Natasha enter, Yelena immediately stood up and quickly went to greet her.
"You've come."
Natasha glanced around at the empty gazes in the yard and asked softly, "How is the situation?"
Yelena gave a wry smile and lowered her voice, "It's bad. I've done the math, and only a few people have explicitly said they want to leave. I agreed, but I need you to prepare new identities and some cash for them."
She paused, her gaze complex as she looked at the remaining people. "The rest of them don't know where to go either. The Red Room has emptied them out. They know nothing but killing, infiltration, and intelligence gathering. Throwing them into the outside world is too dangerous."
Natasha didn't reply. She slowly walked into the courtyard and stopped in the center.
Sensing her movement, the gazes that had been scattered in various places instinctively converged on her. There was no fear, no obedience, only an instinctive waiting for command.
Natasha looked at them and calmly said, "Those who want to leave, I've already made arrangements. You can leave at any time."
No one moved.
"Those who don't want to leave," Natasha's voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard, "From today onwards, you are no longer affiliated with the Red Room, no longer affiliated with any official institution. You will have a brand new name, a legitimate profession, and a perfectly safe home."
She paused, her gaze sweeping over Yelena before finally settling back on the girls.
"I've started a security consulting company. You can treat it as a regular job. Those who want to stay, register with Yelena."
There were no impassioned speeches, no brainwashing oaths.
After a brief silence, a younger girl stood up first, walked to Yelena, and whispered, "I'll stay."
Then came the second, and the third.
Yelena looked at the list that was quickly filling up in her hand, let out a long breath, and finally a glimmer of life returned to her eyes.
When I returned to the apartment that evening, the lights were still warm and inviting.
Lynn leaned back comfortably on the sofa, flipping through an ordinary leisure magazine. Hearing the door open, he didn't even look up, simply asking casually, "All settled in?"
Natasha walked over to him, sat down gently, and spoke in a calm tone as if she were asking what she had for dinner, "Hmm. I opened a small security consulting company and found them decent jobs, so they have a place to stay."
She deliberately spoke lightly, without mentioning the secret intelligence network or going into the deeper considerations behind it.
Lynn turned a page of the magazine, a gentle smile in her eyes. She didn't press for details, simply replying softly, "It's fine."
He never interfered with Natasha's choices, nor did he question her arrangements. He always unconditionally supported whatever she wanted to do.
The tedious wrap-up work has finally come to an end, and my body and mind, which had been tense for many days, can finally relax completely.
The following afternoon, the weather in New York was sunny and breezy.
Lynn changed into a simple casual sweatshirt, turned to look at Natasha leaning against the window, and casually asked, "Want to go out for a walk?"
Natasha nodded gently, her eyes sparkling. "Okay."
The two did not open a portal, nor did they rush to any dangerous battlefield. They simply changed into casual clothes, walked out of the apartment, and joined the bustling streets of New York, just like the most ordinary couple in the world.
Shops lined the streets, and pedestrians came and went. The noisy voices, the shouts of street vendors, and the laughter of children pieced together the most ordinary and warm human warmth.
Lynn would occasionally stop at a street food stall, buy a warm snack, and hand it to Natasha; when passing a flower shop, she would casually pick out a bunch of light-colored daisies and tuck them into Natasha's palm.
Natasha quietly accompanied him, walking slowly, occasionally lowering her head to smell the fragrance of flowers, her eyes showing an unprecedented relaxation.
The darkness of the past, the shackles of half a lifetime, and the obsession with revenge all slowly fade away in this gentle evening breeze and the ordinary fireworks.
At this moment, there are no magicians, no Black Widow, no intelligence networks, and no grudges or feuds.
Just two ordinary people, strolling side by side in the gentle evening breeze, enjoying the hard-won tranquility of life.
As Natasha passed the newly opened dessert shop on the street corner, she paused slightly, her gaze involuntarily drifting to the freshly baked strawberry croissants in the window.
Lynn caught the fleeting glint of longing in her eyes, chuckled softly, pushed open the door, went inside, bought one, and handed it to her.
"Fresh out of the oven, be careful, it's hot."
Natasha's eyes lit up. She took it with both hands and eagerly took a big bite. The crispy crust made a slight "crunch" sound between her lips and teeth, and the rich buttery aroma instantly spread in her mouth. She squinted her eyes in satisfaction, like a cat that had stolen a dried fish, and even the invisible tuft of hair on the top of her head seemed to stand up.
Seeing her completely unguarded state, Lynn couldn't resist teasing her. He leaned forward slightly, took a small bite off the spot where she had bitten off.
"Hey!" Natasha's eyes widened as she looked at the croissant in her hand with a missing piece, then at Lynn's self-righteous and shameless expression, and she immediately became indignant.
Taking advantage of her agility, she lunged forward and crashed into Lynn's arms, reaching out to snatch the iced lemon tea he had just bought.
" Lynn! That's mine!"
"Whoever has it, it belongs to them." Lynn smiled and took a step back, taking advantage of his height to hold the teacup high, letting her bounce around in his arms like a koala.
"Are you going to let go or not?" Natasha tilted her head back, her eyes full of sly laughter, her hands clinging tightly to his arm, her whole body hanging on him.
"I won't let go." Lynn lowered his head, his nose almost touching hers, his voice extremely low, with a lazy smile, "Unless you offer something else in exchange."
Natasha looked into his eyes, so close to hers, and a faint blush rose to her cheeks. She gave a soft hum, then tiptoed and gave Lynn a quick peck on the corner of his lips.
Lynn was taken aback at first, then a smile instantly spread across his eyes. He released his grip, letting the lemon tea fall back into Natasha's hands, then pulled her close, holding her tightly in his arms, and deepened the sweet and sour lemon kiss.
A gentle evening breeze blew by the street, ruffling the stray hairs around her ears.