3rd Person POV

"Good as new. You are entirely you. Your own girlfriend won't even notice the difference." Helen Cho, head of the CRADLE program (Cellular Regeneration And Data Learning Edifice),  explained to Clint Barton, who had been injured in the raiding of the HYDRA base. His lips tilted upward, and Natasha's lips pressed together. If you hadn't known her for a while, you would have thought it was just her normal face.

"Glad you're OK, Barton. Pretending to need you really brings the team together." Natasha Romanoff said, before walking out of the room, out into the well lit hallway beyond. Natasha had had a rough past, and wasn't exactly the talkative type. The only people she spoke to regularly was Steve, or Clint.

Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Thor Odinson walked out of the room.

"So, is no one going to say anything about how Barton and Romanoff just shared a very strange look? Ooh, and by the looks of it, Stevie knows something. Why don't you tell us?" Tony smirked at the super soldier's expression. His face was a mix of confusion, guilt, embarrassment, and surprise.

The super soldier was the only one to know about Natasha (Or 'Super Scary Russian Lady' as JARVIS called her) and Clint, and he knew that if he told Tony, who would in turn tell it to the world in a meeting, trying to get the spotlight off him, as he had done before.

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"Whoever shall be worthy shall wield the hammer of Thor. Whatever man, its a trick." Clint Barton, previously a circus performer under the name of 'The Man Who Never Missed' (which was a stupid name) exclaimed, lying on one of the extravagant leather couches.

"Then why don't you try, Barton. We know you've had a rough week, we won't hold it to you if you can't get it up." Tony Stark, playboy philanthropist billionaire, smirked. He smirked so much, his face was normally set in either a smirk, or his flashy smile. He'd practiced for hours, because when your parents die, leaving you the sudden heir to a company that you didn't think you'd run for years, it tends to be unnerving.

Tony Stark's parents had been killed in a car accident, while they were traveling to the Bahamas for a much-needed vacation. Tony, only being twenty-three at the time, only forty-one now, had been devastated by the loss. He had been close to his mother.

When his father was gone on business trips, his mother had taught him piano. Helped him chose an outfit for his first date. Comfort him when his dog died. Give him his first bike. Put a Band-Aid and a kiss on his knee when he skimmed his knee against the sidewalk.

All while his father had mourned Steve Rogers, cheated on his wife, and created the billionaire company- no, the trillionare company Stark Industries was today.

But this story is not about Tony's childhood, it is about something much stronger, much deeper, much closer to the threads of life and death.

When Barton could not lift the hammer, Stark said, "Smell the silent judgement?"

"Hah, I'd like to see you try to lift it." Clint retorted.

When Stark failed, he said it was rigged.

"Ah, I have a simpler theory. You're not worthy." Thor said.

A terrible screeching sound had most people flinching (Thor did not because he is a god, and Natasha because, well, she was ready for anything. So no one was surprised when she slipped a knife out from the flowing sleeves of her dress.) 

"Worthy? No, how could you be worthy." A mangled thing, covered in wires and oil limped out from the hall. (I totally just read that in a audiobook readers voice 😋)

"JARVIS? Reboot, we got a buggy legionare. JARVIS?" Tony Stark said, expecting the English accent to come back, saying 'Very well, Mr. Stark.' 

"I had to... Kill the other guy. He was a good guy. But in the real world, we're faced with ugly choices."

"Ultron?" Doctor Bruce Banner, leading scientist on, well, almost all types of radiation, and creator of the gamma bomb (which the High Evolutionary had tried to rule the sword with a few years back, (don't ask him, its a touchy subject) whispered in disbelief.

"In the flesh. Or, no, not yet. But I have plans for that. I was given a good hand, and I created the game. I will win this round. Or, I suppose, it is the only round."

"What are you doing. No, better question, what game are we talking about?" Steve put on his menacing Captain America face and voice.

"The Avengers Extinction."

Ten robots burst forth, going for different targets. Three surrounded Captain America, two swarmed to Clint and Maria, who had been sitting with the heroes, one flew at Tony, two raced over to Thor, and one went to Natasha.

Tony fended his off with a pair of chopsticks to the neck, Maria pulled a gun from under a table, and Natasha faced off her opponent with her knives held with lethal grace, that came when you had killed many, what harm would a few more do?

The rest weren't doing so good. A bot had Barton by the throat, and was bashing him against a wall, while Rogers was being thrown at tables and other sharp objects. Thor was flying about, electric blasts sizzling next to, or on to the bots fighting him. Most of his shots missed.

Once call of the bots had been defeated, with a bit (READ: A LOT) of help from the ladies, the heroes whirled on the mangled carcass of metal.

"Very dramatic. I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to do what's right, but the world does not need to be babied. When civilization's dust begins to settle, God throws A stone. And believe me, he's winding up. Now, if you will just t-"

Thor threw his hammer, Mjölneir, at Ultron, pulverizing the AI's machinery.

"I had strings, but now I'm free. I had strings but now I'm freeeeeeeeeeee." The blue light faded out of the eyes of the bot.

Hopefully you enjoyed this, I had fun writing it! I'm changing a lot of stuff, so let me know if something is offensive or really doesn't match up with the storyline. (THIS IS UNMAPPED.) If you have any questions, PM, comment, or reach out to me is some way. I don't know how to spell Mjölneir, so if someone is good with Norse Mythology, please let me know if I'm spelling it wrong! 

Bye! Have a good night or day!

~Phase~

(Words: 1130)