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Snake Eyes and Black Widow

This is a story of Snake Eyes (GI-Joe) being a operative in the fantastic world of the MCU. Of course, as this is introducing a character from an entirely different universe this story will be an AU. Without further ado, please take a dive through the eyes of Snake. Disclaimer all rights and permissions stay with the original writers and creators. This fan-fic is just to take a spin on what it would be like to have one of my favorite characters in the MCU.

Apexfenris · 映画
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55 Chs

Chapter 10: The Awakening

Natasha's eyes flickered open, the world around her blurry and disorienting. The first sensation that hit her was the cold. The sterile, metallic chill of the room seeped into her bones, making her feel more exposed than she already was. She blinked, trying to clear the fog in her mind. Her head throbbed, a dull ache at the base of her skull where the tranquilizer had taken its toll.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by the harsh glow of overhead fluorescent lights. The walls were smooth and metallic, lined with a series of surveillance cameras that tracked every movement. There were no windows, no indication of where she was. But the restraints around her wrists and ankles, securing her to the chair, told her everything she needed to know: she was a prisoner, and this was a place built to keep her and her companions under control.

Natasha tested the strength of the restraints, her muscles tense as she flexed her arms. The cuffs were tight, cutting into her skin with every movement. They weren't standard cuffs—whoever had captured them had prepared for someone like her. The metal was reinforced, the locks far more advanced than anything she had encountered in a long time. But that didn't mean they were unbreakable.

Taking a deep breath, Natasha forced herself to remain calm. Panicking wouldn't get her out of this. She scanned the room, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Across from her, she saw another figure slumped in a chair, similarly restrained. Snake Eyes. He was still unconscious, his head hanging slightly to the side, his body secured by the same reinforced cuffs. The sight of him bound and vulnerable stirred something deep within Natasha—anger mixed with a fierce determination.

They weren't just captives. They were targets. And she had no intention of letting the Overseer get away with it.

"Snake?" Natasha called out softly, her voice hoarse from the drug. She winced at the sound of her own voice, the dryness in her throat making it painful to speak. "Snake Eyes, wake up."

He didn't respond. She watched him for a moment longer, noting the rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, but whatever they had used on him was keeping him sedated. Natasha tried to shift in her seat, testing her legs. The restraints didn't give, and her head spun again as the aftereffects of the tranquilizer clung to her.

The sound of footsteps echoed outside the room, growing louder with each step. Natasha's body tensed instinctively. She narrowed her eyes as the door slid open, revealing two armed guards dressed in sleek black armor, their faces obscured by helmets. They moved in unison, their weapons trained on her as a third figure entered the room behind them.

It was the Overseer.

He stepped into the room with the same cold confidence he had displayed before, his hands clasped behind his back. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, his face expressionless as he surveyed Natasha and Snake Eyes. He seemed almost amused by the scene before him, as if their capture had been a foregone conclusion, and now he was simply playing out the final act of a game he had already won.

"Ah, Miss Romanoff," the Overseer said, his voice smooth and controlled. "I trust you're feeling well enough to have a conversation."

Natasha's glare was icy, her muscles coiled as she fought the urge to lunge at him, despite the restraints. "You're wasting your time," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "Whatever you think you're going to get out of us, it's not going to happen."

The Overseer smiled faintly, as if amused by her defiance. "I admire your spirit, truly. It's one of the qualities that made you such a valuable asset to the Red Room." He glanced briefly at Snake Eyes before turning his attention back to Natasha. "But you misunderstand. This isn't about extracting information from you. This is about making you see the future—our future."

Natasha's jaw clenched. "You're not Red Room."

The Overseer raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not. The Red Room was… a useful experiment. But it was flawed. The Overseers of the Red Room were limited in their vision. They saw the value in creating weapons out of people, but they failed to see the full potential."

He began to pace slowly around the room, his eyes studying Natasha as if she were a subject under a microscope. "What they created in you, and others like you, was impressive. But they lacked ambition. They were content to use their assets for political manipulation, for espionage. They failed to see the larger picture."

Natasha's fists clenched in the restraints. "And what's your 'larger picture'?"

The Overseer stopped in front of her, his gaze cold and calculating. "A new world order. One where the strongest control not just nations, but the entire global infrastructure. Technology, intelligence, resources—all of it at the hands of those who deserve it."

"And by 'those who deserve it,' you mean you?" Natasha spat, her voice laced with contempt.

The Overseer's smile widened slightly. "I see you're quick to understand. But it's not just me, Romanoff. It's people like you. Like Snake Eyes. You were both forged in the crucible of the Red Room, but you escaped. You walked away from the very power that made you who you are."

Natasha's eyes flicked to Snake Eyes, still unconscious in his restraints. She could feel the weight of the Overseer's words, the twisted logic he was using to justify whatever plan he had in motion. But there was no future in what he was proposing. It was madness—an abuse of power on a scale even the Red Room hadn't imagined.

"You're delusional," Natasha said, her voice cold and cutting. "You think you can control people like us? People like Tony Stark? You're playing with fire."

The Overseer's expression didn't change. "I don't need to control you, Romanoff. I just need you to understand. And when you do, you'll see that there's no other choice."

Natasha's mind raced, searching for a way out. She could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on her, but she refused to give in to despair. There had to be a way to turn the tables. But before she could formulate a plan, the Overseer took a step back, gesturing toward the door.

The guards moved quickly, hauling Snake Eyes out of his chair and dragging him toward the exit. Natasha's heart pounded as she struggled against her restraints, but it was no use.

"Where are you taking him?" she demanded, her voice sharp with urgency.

The Overseer glanced over his shoulder as the guards carried Snake Eyes out of the room. "To a place where he can be useful."

Natasha's blood ran cold. She watched helplessly as the door closed behind Snake Eyes, leaving her alone with the Overseer. Her mind raced with the possibilities of what they could do to him—what they would do to him. Snake Eyes had endured countless trials, but there were limits to what even he could withstand.

The Overseer approached her once more, his voice soft but filled with menace. "You have a choice, Romanoff. You can help me shape the future, or you can watch as everything you care about is taken from you."

Natasha's eyes blazed with fury. "I've heard that before," she said through gritted teeth. "And I survived."

The Overseer's smile faded, replaced by cold indifference. "Not this time."

With that, he turned and left the room, leaving Natasha alone in the suffocating silence. The weight of the situation pressed down on her, but she forced herself to breathe, to stay calm. They had taken Snake Eyes, and now she had to find a way to get him back. She had to stop whatever twisted plan the Overseer had in store.

But first, she had to get out of these restraints.

Natasha's fingers flexed, the lockpick still hidden in her sleeve. The countdown had begun.