IV. Emris

The cold, sterile walls of Dragunov's office make me feel even more out of place than I usually do. There's a dark mahogany desk in the center, the sharp scent of cigar smoke still lingering in the air. I step forward, my boots echoing against the polished floor, but I don't sit. Not until he tells me to.

Mr. Dragunov is sitting behind his desk, his fingers steepled in front of his face, eyes narrowing as he watches me enter. He's always calculating, always watching, but today, there's something else in his eyes. Something more... predatory.

"You've made quite an impression, Emris," he says, his voice like a whisper in the air, full of tension and quiet threat.

I hold my ground, waiting for him to say more. He always speaks slowly, as if every word is weighed carefully.

"Your actions have drawn attention," he continues, tapping a finger on his desk, the sound of it echoing in the otherwise quiet room. "Not just from our enemies, but from those who think they can stand in our way."

A flicker of confusion crosses my mind before it vanishes, replaced by cold clarity. The Avengers. They're looking for me.

"Many have had interest in you, Emris. You know that. We've got rid of them. But now," he pauses, letting the weight of his words sink in, "now the Avengers are looking for you."

I freeze. The Avengers? Why would they be looking for me? I've kept my tracks well-covered. But Dragunov's smile—small and tight—tells me everything I need to know.

He gestures to the wall behind him, and the large monitor flickers to life. It's filled with images—footage, dossiers, and faces I know all too well. The first face that appears on the screen is Tony Stark's. His smug expression is familiar, the playboy billionaire, the one with the mind and the ego to match. Below his image are the words: Tony Stark—Iron Man. The second face is Natasha Romanoff's, her cold gaze piercing through the screen, like she's looking straight at me. Natasha Romanoff—Black Widow. And the final face is Steve Rogers, the soldier, the symbol of everything the Avengers stand for. Steve Rogers—Captain America.

"Tony Stark. Natasha Romanoff. Steve Rogers," Dragunov mutters, as if each name leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. "These three have been tracking you ever since your failed mission in Prague. They don't know who you are yet, but they're looking for you. And they'll find you unless we act first."

I try to keep my face still, but inside, something churns. The Avengers. I've heard of them—seen them on the news, heard whispers in the shadows—but never thought they'd be a threat to me. Now, Dragunov is showing me footage of their investigations, intercepted communications.

Tony's voice crackles through the speakers of the room. "We've tracked movement from someone with an intel signature tied to the organization Natasha believes is related to the Red Room. We need to find them before they do any more damage."

I hate that he's right. They're looking for me.

I grit my teeth, trying to shake off the feeling of being exposed. Dragunov notices my reaction, and he leans forward, his smile turning colder.

"This is your mission now, Emris. You are to eliminate them before they can expose you or the Black Lotus. You will kill them. All three."

Dragunov slides a folder across the desk to me, and I open it without a word. Inside are detailed dossiers on the three Avengers, their strengths, weaknesses, and known tactics. Tony Stark's technological brilliance is mapped out, Natasha Romanoff's combat techniques detailed, and Steve Rogers's enhanced strength and leadership laid bare. Each dossier has a paragraph dedicated to how they can be killed.

"Stark," Dragunov says, tapping his finger on the paper containing Tony's information, "has a weakness for his own ego. He'll underestimate you. It's your advantage."

He moves on, flipping the page. "Romanoff. She's fast, but emotional. Use that. She'll always prioritize saving others."

Finally, Dragunov reaches Steve's file. He traces the picture of the soldier, the calm, righteous face of Captain America. "Rogers. He's a soldier at heart. His morality is his weapon, but it will also be his downfall. He won't see you coming."

I nod slowly, absorbing the information. But I'm not listening to Dragunov's words as much as I should. I'm thinking about what he said earlier: The Avengers are looking for me. My mind spins for a moment, and then it clicks into place. They're a threat, and Dragunov is giving me the responsibility to eliminate them before they can make a move against me.

He watches me carefully, his gaze never leaving me as he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers again. There's a brief silence before he speaks.

"Now, Emris," he says, his voice colder than before. "The mission is clear. You will hunt them. But before you go..."

I freeze.

He stands up, walking around the desk, his gaze never leaving mine. "You have been loyal, but loyalty means nothing without obedience."

My heart skips a beat. He's doing it now. I can feel the cold command in the air—the silence before the storm. I have killed without the command plenty of times, but with the Avengers, he doesn't trust me. Due to my defiance last time I encountered them, he believes he must have total control.

"Okhota nachinayetsya zmeya," Dragunov whispers, his voice like a hiss, the words slipping into my mind like poison.

I feel it hit me like a wave of freezing water. All the feelings, all the hesitation, the human fragments of who I used to be—they slip away like the remnants of a dream.

I stand at attention, mind blank, a hollow shell waiting to be filled. There's no room for me in this new form. I am the Serpent now.

"Okhota nachinayetsya," she responds.