Chapter 2

The sleek, modern interior of Vought Tower contrasted sharply with the gritty streets of Queens. In a dimly lit room on the 82nd floor, a team of analysts huddled around a bank of monitors, their faces bathed in the blue glow of screens filled with data, surveillance footage, and satellite imagery.

"Subject Quicksilver spotted again," a young analyst called out, her fingers flying over her keyboard. "Corner of 108th Street and 53rd Avenue."

Madelyn Stillwell leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she watched the grainy footage of a silver blur weaving through traffic. "Zoom in," she ordered, her voice tight with anticipation.

The image expanded, revealing a clearer shot of Pietro Maximoff, then about 12 years old, grinning as he effortlessly outpaced a city bus.

"Remarkable," Stillwell murmured. She turned to the man standing beside her, his face impassive as he studied the footage. "What do you think, Stan?"

Stan Edgar's lips curled into a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I think we've found something special, Madelyn. Keep watching him. I want to know everything."

Over the next few years, Vought's surveillance of Pietro intensified. Hidden cameras were installed throughout his neighborhood, his school, and even in the local businesses he frequented. Every aspect of his life was scrutinized, analyzed, and cataloged.

In a secure conference room, Edgar sat at the head of a long table, surrounded by Vought executives and scientists. Dr. Jonah Vogelbaum, the lead researcher on Compound V, cleared his throat nervously.

"Mr. Edgar, our analysis of Subject Quicksilver's DNA shows an unprecedented integration of Compound V. His speed isn't just superhuman; it's potentially limitless."

Edgar leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Explain."

Vogelbaum tapped his tablet, and a holographic display sprang to life in the center of the table, showing a complex DNA model. "Most subjects show a plateau in their abilities as they mature. Quicksilver's powers are still growing. We've never seen anything like it."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the room. Edgar silenced it with a raised hand. "And his psychological profile?"

A severe-looking woman in a crisp suit stood up. "Dr. Park, head of Behavioral Analysis," she introduced herself. "Subject Quicksilver displays classic signs of sociopathy. Lack of empathy, manipulative behavior, a constant need for stimulation. He's intelligent, charismatic, and utterly ruthless."

Edgar's eyes glinted with interest. "Perfect."

As Pietro grew older, Vought's surveillance adapted. They monitored his online presence, hacked his devices, and even planted undercover agents in his social circles.

In a nondescript van parked outside Newtown High School, two Vought operatives listened intently to a conversation between Pietro and a classmate.

"I'm telling you, man," Pietro's voice crackled through the speakers, "I can get you whatever you want. Test answers, fake IDs, you name it. For the right price, of course."

The operatives exchanged glances. "Kid's building quite the network," one remarked.

"Yeah," his partner replied, scribbling notes. "Edgar's gonna love this."

Back at Vought Tower, Stillwell paced in Edgar's office, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "Stan, we can't wait much longer. He's becoming too visible. If we don't bring him in soon, someone else might scoop him up."

Edgar remained seated, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Stillwell's agitation. "Patience, Madelyn. We're not just recruiting a superhero. We're molding the future of Vought. The timing has to be perfect."

As Pietro's exploits became more public, Vought's surveillance shifted to damage control. Teams were deployed to clean up after his more spectacular feats, erasing evidence and silencing witnesses.

In a dingy basement in Queens, a Vought cleaner team cornered a wide-eyed teenager clutching a smartphone.

"Look, kid," the lead cleaner said, his voice deceptively friendly, "that video you took of the silver-haired guy stopping the runaway train? It never happened. Got it?"

The teenager nodded frantically, handing over his phone with shaking hands.

As Pietro's twentieth birthday approached, the atmosphere in Vought Tower grew electric with anticipation. In the surveillance room, analysts worked around the clock, compiling years of data into a comprehensive profile.

Stillwell stood before a wall of screens, each displaying a different aspect of Pietro's life. "It's time," she announced, turning to face Edgar. "He's ready."

Edgar nodded, adjusting his tie as he prepared to leave. "Indeed he is. Let's go make him an offer he can't refuse."

The sleek black car glided through the streets of Queens, a stark contrast to the worn buildings and graffiti-covered walls. Inside, Edgar sat in contemplative silence, reviewing years of surveillance in his mind.

As the car pulled up to Pietro's apartment building, Edgar allowed himself a small smile. Years of patience, planning, and meticulous observation were about to pay off. He stepped out of the car, straightened his suit, and made his way to Pietro's door.

With one last glance at the hidden camera in the hallway, Edgar knocked. The door opened, revealing Pietro Maximoff, the subject of years of intense surveillance, standing before him in the flesh. His face was unmoving.

Perfect...

"Mr. Maximoff," Edgar said, his voice smooth and controlled. "I believe we have much to discuss."

As Pietro invited him in, Edgar couldn't help but feel a surge of triumph.

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A/N: No, I'm not dead. Just super busy.