24 December 1984,
Magadan Oblast

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the snow-covered landscape. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of salt from the nearby Okhotsk Sea. Magadan Oblast, nestled amidst the rugged mountains, was where time seemed to slow down—a sanctuary for those seeking solace.

In the outskirts of the town, where the land met the edge of the Taiga forest, stood a modest wooden house. Its weathered walls bore witness to years of harsh winters and whispered secrets. Inside, warmth emanated from the crackling fireplace, and the sound of laughter echoed through the rooms.

"Catch me if you can!" The voice belonged to a spirited five-year-old girl, her silver hair a cascade of moonlight. As she darted through the stairs, between the trees, her footsteps left soft imprints in the snow. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and her cheeks were flushed from the exhilarating chase.

Her father, a sturdy man with lines etched by both laughter and adoration, followed her with a playful grin. He caught her effortlessly, lifting her into the air. Her laughter filled the quiet forest, a melody that seemed to dance with the falling snowflakes.

"Now, now, where will you go, honey?" His voice held a tenderness that belied his rugged exterior. He spun her around, and her giggles swirled like snowflakes caught in a gentle breeze.

"Put me down, Dad," she protested, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders. As her feet touched the ground, he knelt beside her, brushing a few stray strands of silver hair away from her face.

"Let's go and eat the delicious food made by your mother, okay Nora?" he asked, gently ruffling her hair with his calloused hand.

"Okay!" she said with a beaming smile, that seems to emit more warmth than the sun provided among the white mountain tops.

The family of three had a fulfilling dinner in the living room. The house was simple but cozy, there was not much luxury but comfort was more than enough, they were happy all of them were.

The girl, her silver hair now touched by the warm hues of twilight, chased after a firefly as if in a trance, its tiny light flickered like a distant star, leading her deeper into the forest.

Her father watched from a distance, his eyes filled with both pride and tenderness. Beside him stood a woman—the girl's mother. Her presence was as ethereal as the falling snow, and her gaze held a quiet knowing. They shared a look of pure love– that was a connection forged in secrets and whispered promises.

As the firefly danced just out of reach, the girl's fingers brushed against the rough bark of a tree. To her surprise, it stirred. The wood pulsed with a soft glow, illuminating the snow at her feet. She gasped, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Magic?" she whispered, her voice carrying the innocence of childhood. The word hung in the frosty air. She looked toward her mother, as she gently called her back, which she abided by her small feets taking her to her mother.

Her mother knelt beside her, her breath forming delicate clouds. Her eyes held the wisdom of ages, and her smile was both tender and mysterious. She reached out, cupping the girl's face in her hands. "It's the essence of life in your hands, honey," she murmured. Her touch was like a benediction—an acknowledgment of something ancient and powerful. "The magic that flows through all living things—the heartbeat of the world."

The girl's silver eyes widened. She extended her hand toward her mother, and as if summoned by her curiosity, orbs of light began to swirl around them. Each orb held a different element—the crackling blue of water, the fiery red of flames, the earthy green of the forest, the deep blue of space and the airy white of the snowflakes.

"One day, you will control all of this," her mother whispered, her voice carrying the weight of prophecy. "Water, fire, earth, and air—they will all be yours to command. But remember, sweetie, magic is not just power; it's a responsibility."

Everything was on track, they all were satisfied and happy, living a life full of dreams and hopes. After three years, Nora warmly welcomed the new addition to their family–her baby sister. And though, sometimes she would feel jealous when her mom and dad would gently hold her sister and shower her with love–their attention on her a little lessessend.

But she never felt sad, because she could see it in their eyes how much they adore her or how when her face would fall even a little they would apologize and fuss all over it, until she would be laughing at their dramatics.

Everything was peaceful and good, Nora was doing good at school, have many friends, and her sister's first birthday was near– and Nora was more than excited not only because she had developed a strong bond of love for her baby sis– but also because her parents had promised they would go to a big town on that day. Nora hadn't really ever visited any town or city or place outside Magadan, and though she loved the place, she couldn't help but long for the world outside too. To see the large buildings that were described in her books, see the exotic plants, meet with foreigners and do all things she can there.

And then everything faded away.

Nora was humming as she reached the porch steps, her hand holding a basket of acorns which glitter with the sun rays falling on them, "Momma, I am back, See I have brought so many beautiful acorns!" she called from the gate as she removed her shoes, moving to the living room with a bright smile.

"M-Mom," she whispered, the basket falling from her hand–now forgotten. Her heart lurched, and for some moments she had to gasp for air, feeling like a stone was pressing against her lungs, "Mom!" she cried out, as she moved toward her kneeling down. Her eyes shimmered with tears–that her parents never let gather in her eyes– and lips quivered as if a dam was about to break.

Her tiny hand shook as she brushed away the strands of hair that were sticking on her mother's forehead, red leaving a trail. Her frail body was lying on the floor, wrists bound by some manacles that Nora didn't knew what were, her gaze was just focused on the face of her mother–that she was used to see covered with love or adoration with a brilliant smile– was covered with blood, a pool near her head, while it was splattered all over her face.

"Nora," her voice was strained, feeling flaming pain tearing through every part of her body as she tried to speak–to look at her life, her love, her daughters one last time. Nora's eyes perked as she looked at her, her tiny hands trying to press down the wound in her mother's forehead, tears falling down her face, "I am sorry," her mother spoke, her bloodied hand coming to rest on her head–for a last time, "I am so sorry kiddo, at the end it seem like our fate was sealed–I am sorry, I am so sorry,"

"Mom," Nora's voice shook, as she tried to shake her awake. But even her little heart knew by the second her hand went limp on her forehead, that she was no more, she had left, she was not here. Not when her lifeless eyes were staring back at her.

"Boss, look like we have her," the voice was unfamiliar, and cold–not like the breezy one that rushed past Nora cheek's, but the freezing one that arose a shiver.

Nora hadn't noticed the presence of others in the house, too lost in her loss and pain which seemed to tear her heart apart, she wished though that she hadn't turned around to look who the voice belonged to– in a foolish hope of help, only to be met by, her father's body which was being dragged down the floor leaving blood traces all over. She could feel a wave of nausea coming over her, as the stench of blood filled the room, and she could see the flesh dangling from his eyes, a bloodied spot the eyeball hanging with just a nerve.

Her body and mind had gone into a shock, she didn't remember what happened next, only that she was distinctly grabbed, her wrists were also sealed with the same manacles. Her whole being was consumed by a uniform feeling– a feeling which seem to tear down her to pieces, yet also holding her back from crumbling and dissolving into nothing, like a thousand thorns prick at her heart and she could do nothing but stare, like hot molten lava flowed from her eyes all the while they were just tears.

Her world had fallen apart in a moment's notice, and she couldn't help but notice the absence of something to hold on.

She wished it was a nightmare.

After all, reality wasn't supposed to be this scary, right?

She thought her mother might come at any moment to wake her up with a warm cup of milk, only to have it thrashed apart when she woke up to blinding darkness, the cold floor seemed warm in comparison to the coldness that seeped through her bones. She extended her hand trying to summon the orbs she knew come at her will–only to feel electricity course through her veins in return from her manacled wrist.

Her dazed state was only broken, when she heard the soft cries of a familiar voice, somehow dragging her to the corner where her sis was wrapped in the bundle of blankets–she was picked from, blood marked the clothes and Nora couldn't help but crumble down.

She gently picked up the bundle of warmth, embracing her– hoping she would emit some warmth to her heart too. She cried, her soul pouring down her eyes, as bitter loss coursed through her veins. Bitter sobs rip through her body and she couldn't help but feel everything was over.

That night the base was haunted from the heart wrenching cries of innocent hearts that were being torn apart by loss.

****

A blade was handed to her the next day, by a man who introduced him as the leader and like a father figure to her. She didn't know what to say to that man, as much as she knew, a father figure was supposed to nurture and cherish and protest, not-not in whatever weird world she was in.

She soon got to know, that her father was actually an Ex-HYDRA agent and her mother part of a distinct group who was captured and experimented upon...he had freed her, and they both had leaved the haunting world to live with each other.

Her powers were trained, so was she– thought her body has its limits, and wherever she so much as glance at blood, the memories that she locked away for night would claw their way back in, and she would spiral into an anxiety attack.

She could tell she was getting treated more gently than others– she wasn;t whipped like other kids when they would collapse from exhaustion, nor did she get stabbed intentionally during training. It was because of her power, and their potential she knew, what she could use was nothing compared to what her mother can–could, she had seen her control the whole ground, the Okhotsk sea, the sky, everything with such precision.

Once upon a time, she had adored and admired that, wanting to be like that one day– to be able to commend nature, but now she despised that power, she had consider more than one time using the blade to cut her hands off–she didn't want to be treated specially by the monsters who swallowed down her whole world without guilt and now pretend to be like saviors.

She couldn't though, because Zenovia, her baby sis- her only family alive, the only reason for her to live, her safety depend upon her. And she couldn't fail her, not like how she did to her parents.

Needless to say, even with her exotic powers and skills in assassin she gained in two year training, she wasn't able to go on a real assassin, not only because the blood that haunt her–HYDRA had found a numbing drug for that, but that didn't numb her heart though, she couldn't raise a weapon on someone knowing that would lead someone else to go through what she had, that would lead someone to suffer through the same soul wrenching grief.

That man, the one who had snatched everything away from her, her supposedly father– was losing his patience with her, his trophy.

She was twelve, when an important, very important mission was assigned to her.

Two people. One car, nine days before Christmas, and precisely one hour before Winter Soldier could move to eliminate them.

HYDRA has had its own internal conflicts for many years, during times like these– when an important mission arose was when it was clearly shown. A show to prove who had more power, who should get more budget, which base would govern and which should be trusted.

The people to be assassinated were famous people, brilliant scientists of the century, one of them. And had a son.

Nora couldn't push her to accept that.

Even when she know what her denial now can mean.

That man had already lost its patience, she was pushed into a dark room–with such an encroaching darkness that even after several hours of waiting, Nora couldn't even make out an outline of the wall. Sensory deprivation. She knew what he was trying to do.

By the end of the second day, Nora had found a corner on which she was curled upon, her knees pulled to her chest. The constant pain in her stomach due to starving had now dulled– or maybe she had just started to get accustomed to it. Her throat was raw, and she could feel it hurting steadily begging for some water, but she refused to accept. Her defiance pushing through her limits.

She was sure she could endure a few days of starvation and thirst.

She didn't think she could have endured what had followed next, in the dark of the cell, in the dark of night.

The heavy door creaked open, and a blinding light flooded the small cell. Nora instinctively shielded her eyes, her vision reeling from the sudden brightness. Before she could react, the door slammed shut, plunging her back into darkness. Her eyes still burned from the light, and she was left disoriented, her heart racing. She couldn't make out the figure moving toward her, but she could feel the weight of their presence—the air seemed heavier, charged with an unspoken threat. She tried to push herself up, to move, but her limbs felt slow, unresponsive.

"Well," it was an unfamiliar voice, but charged with malice, "I have been waiting for such a moment,"

"Who are y-" her raw voice was cut short, when a gasp escaped her lips.

The hands came. Rough, unyielding, they grabbed her, pinning her down before she could fully grasp what was happening. Panic surged through her as she tried to struggle, her mind racing with frantic, disjointed thoughts.

Her arms were securely pinned to her side, she tried to summon her magic, but the manacles held back any effort, he pinned her legs with his. And her mind was left reeling. No, this couldn't be happening.

The cold floor bit her skin. Sharp teeth bit at her neck, moving down to her collarbone, her hands were now secured in just a grip of one hand, his other hand pushing down her clothes.

Nora didn't know, when her screams had turned into begging to stop and then into silent sobs. It felt like an eternity had passed before the door was closed again.

Nora couldn't help but curl up in a ball in the middle of the floor. Wearing her clothes back with shaky hands and breath. She thought she had endured the worst, but this, this had left her feeling something she had never had–losing trust in herself and a deep feeling of disgust, she thought she would be able to endure anything and yet, every cruel touch had etched a mark deeper than any physical wound, carving out pieces of her, she feared she might never reclaim.

This continued for two more days, every night.

Before she breaks.

She wasn't sure she would be able to live through it one more time.

Her defiance crumbled and she accepted the mission.

It was painful to say the least, as she had swiped her hand vines entangling the vehicle before slamming it into a tree, emitting a small fire afterwards that took the car with it.

It was ironic almost, in nearly thirteen years of her life. That mission was the first when she had stepped in the world outside of Magadan or HYDRA. She had once long for the world outside.

But now her life was going to be all about killing people in the buildings she wanted to see, the exotic plants had lost their meanings, and blood was the only talk she can do with foreigners, with nothing by her will.

Why?

***

"Tony," she gasped as finally, her mind was cleared of the blurred and painful haze–haze which had not allowed her to remember how she and Tony were sitting in his room.

"Oh god, are you alright?! You had worried me you know; I had asked doctors to come, they woul-" his worried eyes and voice were cut off as he saw the tears welling up in her eyes, his hands reached toward her instinctively, cupping her cheeks, "Hey, hey what happened?"

"I remembered," she said, her teary eyes meeting his worried ones. "I-I remembered my past all of it, before the teen years too,"

Her gaze dropped as she looked down, her hand coming to grasp one of his that were resting on her cheek, "I-I had a family, my mom, dad, I–they loved me, cared for me I-they- I had a sister too, Lumine she was, she was my real sister, her name was Zenovia," she pushed his hand away, as she kept her hand on her forehead, gasping for breath as a sob broke through, "Oh god, oh god, why, I lost even her,"

Tony felt his heart physically ache seeing her cry, especially when he could felt it radiating, the fact that her parents were really loving and caring was mostly the fact that must have shaken her up the most, because now their loss was more prominent, Tony could understand after all he would every day mourn his mother loss more than his father–the one who never really cared. Her mother's loss was what Tony was deeply affected with too, so he could understand and imagine what she was going through right now. The same soul crushing grief he had once gone through.

He stayed silent as he just sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, a silent sign that he was there and not going anywhere.

"I saw them dying," she said, as she buried her face in his neck, hot tears streaming down her face, "we were happy–we all were happy, in a small town with a peaceful life but-they, they ruined everything. They were after my mother–she was a past experiment, but then knowing I have her power, they took me and Zenovia, there was pain and suffering,

I-I was twelve, a important mission–my first was assigned to me, I didn't want to, I refused–..,they locked me in a dark cell, sensory deprivation, without food and water, I thought I could withstand it, I could have but–" her voice broke, and Tony could feel her body shrinking closer to his, her nails digging into her forearm drawing blood, "an agent he came–at night, he-I-he pinned me, I couldn't–...

I thought my body was one thing they had left untouched, they had not," her voice was bitter even with her tears–a voice that held soul thrashing grief and loss, "I am sorry Tony, I am so sorry, so sorry-I didn't wanted to-"

"Nora, Nora, why are you saying this?" Tony pushed past the rage that had consumed him, keeping his voice gentle, "sweetheart, I would never saw you as anyone else rather than the woman who I love, no matter what, I promise,"

Nora looked up at him, her eyes burning with tears, before her gaze dropped again, snuggling closer to him, feeling that his warmth helped reduce the coldness that surrounded her.

She wondered if he would keep the promise even after knowing the truth. Probably not, she didn't blame him for that. Not today though, she couldn't–wouldn't be able to survive through this without him at her side, just today, just today she would hold on to this warmth, feel it last time and engrave it in her mind. Just a last time.

Maybe she was being selfish...then let it be, she had been doing worse things.

She wished for whatever cosmic power there was–to give her the strength of facing what would come next.

"Please, don't ever hate me," she had mumbled, her arms around his torso, a single tear trailing down her cheek. Before she fell asleep, her face buried in his chest.