'it could be today
the day you realise
they have no
more power over you'
Atticus

~

Anarchy and Chaos.

The very idea of anarchy is vastly different than what most people think they know it to be. I've seen many a person substitute the word chaos with anarchy, and vice versa, automatically believing the two words to be synonyms for one another. It's what we see our leaders and idols – politicians, employers, celebrities, authors, royal families, corporate millionaires, social justice icons, and everyone in between – use. We hear, read and see them associate anarchy with chaos.

This is not true.

Chaos, the true definition of chaos, is absolute disorder and confusion. Before the universe was created, the formless matter that existed was chaos. In true chaos, there is no order, there is no structure, there is nothing to rely upon. Perhaps, that is where the confusion between chaos and anarchy lies; in that very non-existence of structure, the lack of anything solid to rely upon, disorder in its purest form.

Anarchy, however, is simply the absence of government and absolute freedom of the individual.

Other definitions outline it as a state of disorder due to the absence or non-recognition of authority or other controlling systems – and often, as I will elaborate on, anarchy does lead to chaos – but in all actuality, it really is just the non-existence of a system of rules and group of people governing our lives. Anarchy is the absence of a government. Anarchy is the absence of law. Anarchy is the absence of anything and anyone telling us what to do or what not to do.

Anarchy, is the freedom of making our own decisions of our own free will. And often amongst that freedom, do we discover a wild, chaotic soul – for anarchy sets chaos free.

I've had time to think on our way over to SHIELD HQ, and my whole life, there has been a group or person telling me what to do or what not to do. From the Hand, to SHIELD, to HYDRA, to all my clients as an assassin, Nicky, the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the government, my father, Thanos, Steve – everyone has always told me what's right, what's wrong, who I'm supposed to be, who I'm supposed to serve, who I'm supposed to kill, what I'm supposed to do, and what the very meaning of my existence is. I'm stubborn, reckless, don't like taking orders, and yet, my entire life... that's all I've really done.

Well fuck that.

No more will people tell me who I am, who I am supposed to be. I will tell them who I am supposed to be. SHIELD is about to fall. HYDRA is about to fall. The Hand lost their grip on me long ago. People can try and make me into a hero, and at the end of the day, I may end up being a hero with questionable morals, but I also am an assassin with a dark past that has done things I both regret and don't regret. Every single decision I've made is a part of who I am right now, and I'm not sorry for who I am, not anymore. I'm not looking for forgiveness from anyone, and I'm way past asking for permission for anything.

Anarchy has enlightened me, freed me. Steve is a soldier who is so used to following orders and set rules, and now that there is no military or SHIELD to follow, he's well on his way to discovering anarchy himself. He's not there yet, not whilst the mantle of Captain America remains on his shoulders, he is on his way though.

Anarchy has been my reckoning. I am trouble, and now that anarchy has let my wild soul free, I am chaos. You cannot break what has no structure, what has no form.

And I – Lillian Veronica Nightshade, daughter of Loki, the Nightingale, the Avenger – I am the assassin who can't be broken.

Great, now that I've been a dramatic ass bitch and the grand, theatrical, revelational end of book speech is out of the way, we can be on with the story.

My little musings on anarchy and chaos came to me after Fury agreed to disband SHIELD, even though I well know that he won't. When this happened last time, I still worked for SHIELD, and yet this time, I am one of the people who stood by Captain America's side and agreed that SHIELD should be no more. I'm no longer an agent of SHIELD, and I haven't been made an Avenger, not yet, even though by the end of this, I probably will be. The realisation that I'm currently free and not bound to anyone or anything, that I don't have to take orders from any higher ups, is so liberating, I almost don't know what to do with myself.

Almost.

What I do know now, is that SHIELD is about to fall, and with it, HYDRA. Both will be like a couple cockroaches and reappear in time, unable to really kill the pests, but right now a lot of good people could die. Even though I know they won't, with or without my help, I know I still need to be there. If not to help, then to get that goddamn sceptre.

Knowing that we're going into battle, the rest of our team finally decided to suit up. Unfortunately, Steve didn't exactly have a Cap suit on hand, so, being the secretly devious duo that the two of us are – where I blatantly do illegal things and Steve does as well but acts like it's a coincidence that he's with me as I'm doing them half the time, followed by weak justifications that it's for the greater good e.g. 'borrowing' that car a few chapters back after we hotwired it – we just broke into the world's largest museum to steal – Steve described it as 'returning it to its rightful owner' (do you see what I mean?) – his original Captain America suit.

As the nine of us suit up – Nat, Steve, Sam, Sammy Wilson, Fury, Adelaide, Hill, Lewis and yours truly – I'm sure to make introductions between Sammy Wilson and my gang, which is all going smoothly until the two Sam's discover they shared the same name.

"Wait, so your name is Sam?" Wilson asks, a ghost of a smug smile slipping onto his lips.

"Yup," Sam is quick to respond, popping the 'p' amongst his enthusiasm.

"Well, what a handsome name you have there."

I snort, my amusement simmering beneath my annoyance. Here we go.

"I know right? So masculine. Has to be the best name out there."

"Hey man, you're preaching to the choir. Ain't no other name as fine as Sam."

"You couldn't be more correct my friend."

Cutting my glare into their direction, I half-heartedly warn "If you two keep going, the world is going to be short two more Sam's."

Wilson doesn't even attempt to hide how he leans towards my Sam, stage whispering loud enough for me to hear "She's just jealous that her name isn't Sam too."

"It's been hard living with that jealousy around me all the time man," Sam sighs, shaking his head in dismay. "She tries to hide it but who are we kidding, Lillian's never had a great poker face. It's why she kept losing each poker night back at this bar in New York when we lived there."

Gasping theatrically, I shoot a menacing scowl in his direction. "My poker face is fantastic you douchewad – Brian was the one who kept cheating. Irish bastard."

"If you're all quite done," Nicky drones out, amusement so well veiled that I doubt anyone else would have detected it. "We've got a SHIELD HQ to infiltrate."

He's right, of course. We've all got parts to play; but unlike Nicky's compartmentalising, we all know what we're doing, we all know what everyone else is doing, and now, fast-forwarding past the tenacious travelling to the HQ, as Nat infiltrates HYDRA-SHIELD as Council Member Hawley, the first part of the plan has been set in motion. It's all of our duties to keep it that way.

With SHIELD about to fall with HYDRA, some of their weapons, highly dangerous commodities and volatile science products are up for grasp, and the last thing any of us want, is HYDRA getting their filthy little fingers on an Infinity Stone. With Steve, Sammy Wilson and Hill targeting SHIELD from above, focusing on the Project Insight Carriers and opening the eyes of the other SHIELD agents to what is transpiring and has been transpiring around them, Lewis, Adelaide, Sam and I are to make sure we recover as many of SHIELD's higher level weaponry and scientific research, taking down as many HYDRA sons of bitches as we can along the way.

Part of Nat's mission is to dump all HYDRA and SHIELD information online for the entire world to see. Nicky, however, isn't a complete imbecile, and doesn't have everything in SHIELD's digital records. Loki's sceptre, amongst many other things, are in lockup, and in spite of Steve getting all frowny at 'wow, another secret I don't know about', he still agreed that going after them should also be a priority.

With my reinforced tri-polymer black and brown suit back on, gloves, balaclava mask that covers the lower half of my face and all, I catch a glimpse of my little sister fiddling with her own white and steel blue suit, identical to mine minus the colour scheme. I understand it of course, black for my stone and brown for a nightingale, white for her stone and blue for a swallow, but right now? Right now we look nothing like sisters. Sometimes I do happen to question our relation – scratch that, I often question our relation. Mum was dead when she was supposedly born. I might trust her to have my back in a fight, and biologically we are related, but something about Adelaide Nightshade doesn't seem... right.

Lewis is checking over the list for all the things we'll be required to attend to for the one hundredth and thousandth time, Sam staring at the scientist with a rather fond smile as the Brit mumbles vaguely incoherent but endearingly fretful things. "You just wanna put him in your pocket and take him home, don't you?" I whisper, also now glancing at the stressing doctor.

Sam chuckles, shaking his head. "First me, then Adelaide, now Lewis. You've got a thing for strays, Lilly."

"Mm, it's becoming a problem," I utter back, only half of it exasperated. "But hey, a thought occurred to me on the way here – I'm the Nightingale, Adelaide's the Swallow, Lewis is the Doctor I suppose, if that isn't copyright.... but you don't have some absurd super hero pseudonym. We gotta fix that."

The ex-HYDRA agent shrugs, not at all that fussed. "Eh, it'll come when it'll come. The public will name me soon enough, and that is when I'll know that I, Samuel Hemmings-Von Doom, will have made it as a super hero."

"Let the public name you, and they'll name you something like the Electrician," I playfully yet in all serious inform him, despite entertaining the thought about how amusing some of the names that civilians could come up with.

"The people want what the people want, Lilly. Who am I to deny them of the fruit that their creative trees bear?"

I blink once, having to pause and allow his words to fully set in my mind. "Fruit that their creative trees be—?" I cut myself off, head tilted in utter disbelief. "You are so weird sometimes I really don't know why I keep you around."

"Because you loooveee me."

"Dad, I hate that it's true."

Sam, geared up in spare SHIELD agent armour that Fury happened to have on hand, Adelaide and I all patiently wait in the van parked in the SHIELD car park, Lewis playing with his tablet in hand as we all stand with baited breath for a signal from Steve to storm the building.

And then, it comes.

"Attention all SHIELD agents, this is Steve Rogers."

The tablet in Lewis' grasp, as well as through our earpieces, picks up on Captain Crunch's introduction, and instantly do I find myself chuckling at his theatrics. Seems like I am rubbing off on the guy. I bet he prepared this. No wonder he was so quiet on the ride over – dramatic ass bitch can be hell extra when he wants to.

"That's the signal," Lewis reminds us, the four of us quick to scramble from the van and waltz freely across SHIELD's car park, straight for the entrance to the building.

"You've heard a lot about me over the last few days. Some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you know the truth."

When a brief silence lapses, I quirk my eyebrow at Sam and Adelaide, knowing that they're probably thinking the same thing. Did he seriously just take a pause for dramatic effect?

"SHIELD is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The STRIKE and Insight crew are HYDRA as well – not STRIKE: Enhanced, for they have been working against them for some time now, but the rest of them are." Now that that's cleared up, hopefully loyal SHIELD agents won't shoot the three of us on sight.

Kicking open the car park door, I hold it back and allow Adelaide, Sam and Lewis to pass through, descending down the cement stairwell into the depths of the building.

"I don't know how many more are HYDRA, but I know they're in the building. They could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want. Absolute control."

The first agent we spot upon the stairwell draws his gun without hesitation, resulting in Adelaide grasping the stairs' railing and vaulting herself around the corner and straight at the guy, her boots striking him directly across the face and throat with such a focused, unwavering force that it knocks him clean out. We keep walking.

"They shot Nick Fury, and it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone who stands in their way."

Finally arriving to our intended floor, Lewis deftly swipes his key card for access, the little blue light morphing green at the same time that Sam forcefully slams the door open, revealing a dimly lit hallway with a copious amount of doors and twists and turns. If it weren't for the four of us having studied the blueprints for the floor before coming here, we would undoubtedly have become lost quite rapidly.

"Lewis, you're with me," I toss over my shoulder, not even slowing my brisk pace for the doctor to catch up. "Sam, Addie, you two cover the other half of the floor. Try not to die."

"You ask so much of us," Addie coos, chuckling with Sam before the two of them jump to their respective task.

"I know I'm asking a lot."

"Loki's sceptre is three hallways away, in the tightest locked-up room this facility has," Lewis nervously warns, lightly jogging to keep up with me. "It won't be easy."

"It never is."

"But the price of freedom is high. It always has been."

The bruises hugging my body limit my movement and constantly remind me of their presence whenever I do move, but I am far too determined to pay them or the unsettling nausea that rears it's head at me every so often any mind. Viciously striking my hand out and to the side, sharp like a sword through the air, the HYDRA agents rounding the corner to meet us are deprived the chance to respond in equal measures of hostility. Impossibly abrupt stalagmites of savage razor ice shoot out and pierce straight through the opposition, the lights littering the halls shying away and flickering from the icy onslaught and temperature drop. Even Lewis is startled by the unwavering act.

"Oh my," he chokes, shuffling around the bodies skittishly. Once again, I pay no heed to his unease.

I'm so close.

"And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it."

An ecstasy of pure bliss and happiness adds fuel to the flame of the burning hope flooding my veins upon the sight of a heavily locked down door. The mind stone is behind that door, and God help anyone that stands between it and I.

"But I'm willing to bet I'm not."

"And you would bet right hun," I contently smirk, pulling my arms back by the elbows, palms facing one another. Ice cold biting bitterness swells within my gut, the frigid air and my own power seeping through and pooling within. The air is so raw; it feels as if needles are prickling the insides of my lungs with each breath, but not painfully so. There is something comforting about the cold now – it's something that has always been with me, through everything I've endured and lost.

In one strong, earnest movement, both hands drive forward in a forceful thrust, palms now facing the door. Such power I haven't felt before, not whilst I've been in control of myself, and in control of my power. I'm beginning to understand what my biological father meant when he said my powers would return with renewed strength, for this... this intoxicatingly euphoric sensation makes me feel as if I could take on the world and galaxy with my own two bare hands. My blood doesn't just tingle like an electric shock, it roars like thunder and lightning has been trapped in a body too small for it to surge and grow within, crying to be released. Steve's words, his inspirational speech – along with my own musings of anarchy and chaos and freedom – have finally snapped that power awake, prompting it to push past the pain already wracking my body and the sickness festering and lingering from the dark stone.

That very power, that cold, calculating, raw power, is unleashed like a thousand vengeful winters want nothing more than to ravage the door before us, nothing but ice and snow to be left in its entire spirited wake.

The doors give way without a single say in the matter, ice coating the walls, ice coating the floors and ceiling. The room that lies before me is small, and at its heart, held by a stand a couple steps up in perfect view, sits the very infinity stone that holds all the memories of me that belong to the people of this galaxy.

The mind stone.

Unfortunately, a good number of HYDRA agents stand between me and it. Unfortunately, as in, unfortunately for them.

"Jesus Christ—" Lewis mutters.

"—it's Jason Bourne," I quip, unable to control myself as seventeen guns turn to the scientist and I, resulting in me shoving him from the line of fire behind me and throwing my arms to block, a wall of ice rising from the ground.

"There w-weren't supposed to be that many agents guarding it," Lewis stutters, scrambling on his tablet to attempt to assess the situation.

"Yes, well, there is," I dryly inform him, juggling a few plans around my head. "It's time for plan B."

"We have a plan B?" He inquires, hopeful.

"No, but it's time for one."

The ice cracks under the onslaught and rain of lead, the pressure building to the point that I bite down on my split lip roughly, drawing blood from it again. "How about we shoot everyone with icicles right up the ass?" I suggest, a wry grin pulling at my now partially blood stained lips.

"Lilly," Lewis stares, frowning mildly in his timid state. "You can't call yourself a 'good guy' and do bad guy things."

"Bah, you're no fun."

With my fingers intertwining with one another, I draw my palms to rest beneath my sternum, just above the bottom of my ribs. In one lightning fast movement, my wrists snap around to face my palms outwards and thrust forward, fingers still intertwined. The wall of ice pummels forward like a snowplough, the audible sounds of agents crying out and trying to dart out of the way muffled through the wall.

"Wait here," I caution Lewis, chuckling at his sarcastic mumble of 'because I was previously planning on running head first into gunfire with you' as I briskly storm forward, a newfound determination that shows no signs of leaving anytime soon adding a certain spring to my step.

Breaking down the ice wall, I somersault through the crumbling shards straight into my first target, still positioned low on the ground when I sweep a 360 right hook kick up at his jaw, knocking him clean out with the accumulated force behind the kick. Six agents, not including the one I just dispatched, are already down from the wall of ice ploughing through, leaving ten remaining.

"They're initiating launch," filters through my earpiece from Maria Hill as I sharply cartwheel into another kick, several piercing shards of ice shooting forward and successfully impaling three more agents, whilst two narrowly avoid immediate death and are instead lightly injured. With seven left, I find myself juggling to avoid gunfire whilst fighting hand to hand with two agents who were close enough to charge at me, grunting when one lands a rough punch atop an already sizeable bruise on my gut.

"Sixty percent of the average male body is made up of water!" Hollers the voice of my favourite scientist – second favourite? Sorry Bruce – from behind his ice shield around the corner, drawing a portion of my attention from the fight.

"And?" I yell in return, quick to dodge a blade that really came from nowhere.

"You control water!"

"I'm not that strong!" I grunt, finally snapping the neck of one of them.

"I believe that door you just took down would say otherwise!"

Sharply exhaling, I decide it's at least worth a try, kicking out the feet of the other agent I was engaging in hand to hand from under her. Without much time – barely a second or two thanks to the rain of bullets – to even gather my focus, I sweep my left arm out in one quick motion, feeling for the traces of water in the bloodstreams and flesh beneath the skin of each HYDRA agent, calling for it like I did the water in the ancient aqueducts beneath Braga in Portugal.

And before I know it, the gunfire stops.

Blinking stupidly at the scene before me, I can feel my own mouth fall ajar as the remaining six agents violently tremble where they stand, trying with all their might to gain back jurisdiction over their own bodies. Holy shit... I'm...

I'm blood bending.

Katara got some mad competition up in here now.

Distinctly striking my hand downwards, I watch as the five agents drop their guns involuntarily, the sixth that I was fighting still on the floor. Not allowing my own awe at the situation to let me lose focus, the sweat of the pressure builds at the base of my neck; my laboured breath from behind my balaclava mask loud and nearly electronic in sound due to the build in synthesizer. Raising my other hand, I grin from behind the mask, waggling my eyebrows at the terrorists.

"Look at the flicka da wrist bitches."

With that single flick of my wrist, six heads snap to the side at an awkward, grotesque angle, the five standing bodies collapsing to a heap on the ground within seconds.

I only weakly stand and stare at the seventeen bodies surrounding me from all sides for a few lingering seconds, stumbling up the couple stairs to where Loki's sceptre is perched. Christ, for so long this is all I've wanted, and now that it's here...

"This is for us, guys," I breathlessly announce to Adelaide and Sam, wherever they are in the building. Reaching forward, my gloved fingers drift over the blue orb at the head of the sceptre, and before I know it –

I take it in my grasp.

An energy like I haven't felt since Asgard swells and bursts from the room, images, flickers of memories both familiar and not firing away behind my eyes with such a blinding force. Memories, a thousand a second. Time itself feels nonexistent in that brief yet eternal moment, all the recollections swarming like a storm capable of engulfing the universe.

Then, it washes away, leaving no other trace that it even occurred besides the thundering of my heart trying to tear its way out of my chest.

Raggedly breathing, like my lungs are made of lead, I pause after wrenching my mask from my face in order to breathe better, waiting for any sign from anyone that it worked. Any sign whatsoever.

Please.

"Oh my God, Lilly... Sam..."

Agent Maria Hill seems to be the first to snap to, her voice very coherent through my earpiece.

"I'll be damned."

Sammy Wilson, a man who would've known me by rumours and reputation alone, is the next to disbelievingly chuckle through the coms.

Natasha can't talk; otherwise she'd give away her position, but I do wonder what her reaction would be right now, as well as the other Avengers and Fantastic four scattered across the Earth – and in Uncle Thor's case, the galaxy.

"Lilly?"

One word, a single word bursting with so many tumultuous emotions that I struggle to even pinpoint one, is capable of wrenching my already thundering heart straight from my chest. He remembers. He remembers.

"Surprise bitches," is all I can choke out at first, laughing through my own cracking tough exterior. "I bet you thought you'd seen the last of me."

"Lilly—"

"Not now Steve," I heavily breathe, reluctantly gritting out the interjection amidst my overwhelming relief. "We deal with HYDRA first, just like you all did the last time. We can't mess up the timeline."

There's a collective pause, in which they're all probably bustling to form a coherent response or thought, until a firm but raw "On it," finally comes from Steve.

Sighing in relief, I slump against the sceptre, weakly smiling. Now that that's taken care of—

"Lilly watch out!"

Pain. Raw, palpable pain bursts in my lower abdomen, and when I look down, a blade is protruding from it, coated in a familiar crimson liquid. Great, just what I needed. A stabbing.

Falling to my knees, but no further, I venomously glare up at Brock Rumlow, who stares at me full of recognition, swooping in and picking up the sceptre with ease. "Thanks for taking care of the door Nightshade, made this a hell of a lot easier than it was the last time."

Mercilessly striking me across the face, depriving me the chance to reply, I watch through my swimming, dizzying vision as he passes the sceptre to another HYDRA goon, jumping down from the stairs and lightly jogging back the way him and his lackeys came. "I'd put some pressure on that if I was you – don't want you to bleed out, now do we?" Brock mockingly advises, before disappearing from my sight.

Moments later, as I feebly stumble to a stand, I feel another presence besides me, taking in the red-headed doctor with a heavy dose of reprieve. "Ah, Lewis, wonderful. I need some help."

"I couldn't see very well from where I was hidden," Lewis madly hustles, helping me up. "Where were you injured?"

"I wasn't injured. I was lightly stabbed."

"I'm sorry – you were stabbed?" The doctor's voice cracks, staring at my wound with wider eyes than a Disney princess.

"Lightly stabbed," I assure, waving off his concern and instead tearing the bottom of his lab coat off, tying it around my wound to help alleviate the bleeding. I begin to make my way down the stairs, straight for the exit afterwards. "It's of no importance, not when everyone's favorite weasel of a man just made off with an infinity stone."

"Lilly, you can't just—"

"I can, and I will, so you can either watch me, or come with Doc," I stubbornly tell him, pressing both hands to the entry and exit wounds and freezing that portion of my flesh, another layer to stop the bleeding. Stumbling after me, the two of us begin our trek back through the way we came, until Sammy Wilson's voice travels through our ears again.

"Could use the extra help up here. More HYDRA birds in the sky than this Falcon can handle."

"Hemmings and I are done here, we're on our way," my little sister responds, a pause between her reply and inquiry. "Lilly, Lewis?"

"HYDRA has their hands on the sceptre. Doctor Thompson and I are gonna make our way up the building and dispatch of as many HYDRA agents as we can, retrieving the leftover biochemical weapons from the labs and finally punch in the teeth of Brock Rumlow," I answer, nearly growling in my frustration.

"Eight minutes guys," Hill reminds us, our very own countdown clock.

Turning to Lewis as we jog, I grin mischievously at the Brit, even though I must look like a complete wreck. "I say it's about time we brought a little chaos to the table, don't you?"

A/N: This ending is going to be hell climatic if I manage to write it well enough. I ended up being so long I had to break it into two parts, Part I - Anarchy, and Part II - Chaos. With two chapters left of this book, I've actually gotten ahead of myself and started writing Broken by the Enemy.

Whoops.

Also, can we appreciate the fanart done by @Akira812 ? Like I seriously cannot thank you enough! It is seriously so flattering to have fanart done for a character of mine, thank you so so much again!

QOTD: Favourite Lillian quote?

AOTD: Purely because it encompasses her character completely, but "Trouble is my middle name". Really do love "God bless America" though.

Thanks for reading and that's all for now, bye! :) xxx

~ T.L