MARVEL/DC: DOCTOR IN THE MULTIVERSE

"What exactly do you want?"

Alexander Pierce's tone changed completely.

The smooth political composure vanished.

Only sharp caution remained.

Lynn stood beside the darkened clinic window calmly.

"Three tons of highly enriched uranium."

"And every unregistered extraterrestrial weapon fragment recovered after the Battle of New York City currently hidden inside S.H.I.E.L.D.'s classified storage facilities."

"Deliver them to my designated coordinates before tomorrow's sunset."

Several seconds of silence followed instantly.

Then Pierce spoke again.

"…Are you insane?"

"I am perfectly rational."

Lynn answered evenly.

"But if you refuse…"

He glanced casually toward the inactive holographic projector.

"…this entire intelligence package enters the public internet within thirty seconds."

"Tell me, Pierce."

"After Director Nick Fury receives that Hydra list…"

"Who do you think he arrests first?"

"You?"

"Or Captain Rumlow?"

Silence.

Long silence.

Through the communicator—

Lynn could hear Pierce's breathing quicken slightly.

The old politician was calculating.

Losses.

Probabilities.

Survival rates.

Three tons of enriched uranium and alien debris—

Or total organizational collapse.

The answer was obvious.

Finally—

Pierce spoke again.

"…Withdraw."

His voice sounded dry and hoarse.

"Rumlow."

"Retreat immediately."

Inside Miracle Clinic—

Crossbones slowly lowered the suppressed weapon.

His eyes remained fixed on Lynn.

Cold.

Dangerous.

But beneath that—

Something new had appeared.

Fear.

Not fear of death.

Fear toward something impossible to control.

After several seconds—

Rumlow finally gestured silently.

The twelve Hydra operatives disappeared from every surrounding position almost instantly.

Rooftop snipers withdrew.

Perimeter units vanished into alleyways.

Even the two agents near the power grid retreated cleanly without leaving visible traces.

Within less than thirty seconds—

The entire assault team had dissolved back into the darkness surrounding the clinic.

Like ghosts.

Silence returned.

Lynn deactivated the holographic projector.

The lobby fell dark again.

He stood quietly beside the window watching the final shadows disappear into the distance.

Then spoke softly into the empty air.

"Pierce."

"Remember something carefully."

"I am not a hero."

"I do not actively search for trouble."

"But if you reach toward me again…"

A slight pause.

"…I will remove more than your fingers."

No reply came.

But Lynn already knew Pierce remained listening.

…

Twenty-eight minutes later—

Confirmation arrived.

Three tons of enriched uranium.

All recovered Chitauri weapon debris.

Delivery scheduled within eighteen hours.

Highly efficient.

Meaning Pierce was genuinely frightened now.

Lynn backed up every Hydra intelligence file three separate times afterward.

Triple encryption.

Three physically isolated storage systems.

Three independent hidden locations.

Only then did he erase the projector itself.

Not ordinary deletion.

Full magnetic destruction.

Every storage sector physically overwritten until complete data recovery became impossible even using Stark-level forensic reconstruction systems.

Only after finishing all precautions did Lynn finally glance toward the clock.

4:12 AM.

He decided to make tea.

Then—

He heard high heels stepping across broken glass outside Miracle Clinic.

Lynn paused slightly.

No need for super hearing.

The All-Seeing Eye had already completed identification automatically.

Female.

57 kilograms.

Heart rate: 72.

Elevated slightly—

Yet deliberately controlled downward.

Walking rhythm:

Perfectly balanced.

Professional intelligence-agent gait.

Right hip:

Glock pistol concealed beneath jacket fabric.

Inner left thigh:

Three-inch folding tactical blade.

Perfume trace:

Tom Ford Black Orchid.

Natasha Romanoff.

Lynn calmly placed the kettle aside.

A few moments later—

Black Widow appeared at the clinic entrance.

She had changed clothes already.

The combat suit was gone.

Now—

A black leather jacket rested loosely over a fitted dark-gray shirt.

Freshly washed red hair draped across her shoulders slightly damp.

But the exhaustion visible beneath her eyes was real.

Even for Natasha Romanoff—

Post-war cleanup operations after the Chitauri invasion had been exhausting.

"Still open?"

Natasha leaned casually against the clinic doorway.

Lynn sat behind the counter preparing tea leaves calmly.

"Depends."

"Emergency surgery?"

"Gunshot removal?"

"Or intelligence gathering?"

Natasha's eyes narrowed faintly.

Then she walked into the clinic slowly.

"Fury doesn't know I'm here."

Her gaze lingered briefly upon the reformatted holographic projector sitting nearby.

"Then why are you here?"

"Coincidental patrol route."

Natasha answered lightly.

"Thought I'd check whether Manhattan's most expensive doctor survived the apocalypse."

Lynn did not respond immediately.

Natasha sat down across from him afterward and brushed damp hair behind one ear casually.

Then—

Her posture shifted subtly.

Voice softened.

Body language relaxed deliberately.

Classic Red Room conversational approach.

"I've been fighting nonstop all day."

"My body feels awful."

She leaned back slightly while meeting his eyes.

"Aren't you a doctor?"

"Shouldn't you examine me?"

The implication beneath the words remained obvious.

Measured.

Controlled.

A carefully calibrated mixture of attraction, vulnerability, and casual intimacy.

Textbook seduction-based intelligence extraction.

Unfortunately—

The target sitting opposite her was Lynn.

The All-Seeing Eye scanned Natasha automatically.

Left shoulder muscular strain.

Minor right-knee ligament microtear.

Three lower-back impact bruises.

All superficial.

S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facilities could heal them within days.

Meaning exactly one thing:

She was not here for treatment.

She was here to test him.

Fury's direct interrogation had failed.

Now Natasha attempted the subtle route instead.

Lynn poured tea calmly.

Then slid a cup toward her.

"Agent Romanoff."

"Your resting heart rate averages sixty-four."

"Currently it is seventy-two."

"Your breathing frequency remains exactly fourteen breaths per minute."

"Pupil dilation absent."

"Muscle tension perfectly balanced."

Natasha's fingers paused slightly against the teacup.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you are performing."

Lynn took a sip calmly.

"The Red Room specialized heavily in seduction-based intelligence collection."

"Your body control is excellent."

"Unfortunately…"

He adjusted the glasses lightly.

"…real attraction does not maintain physiological precision this perfectly."

Silence settled briefly across the clinic.

Then Natasha laughed softly.

Not the seductive laugh from earlier.

A genuine one.

Slightly tired.

Slightly self-deprecating.

"You really are impossible to manipulate."

She leaned back into the chair completely this time.

"No matter who tries."

"I only respond to equivalent exchange."

"Then answer honestly."

Natasha's eyes sharpened again.

No flirtation remained now.

Only directness.

"What exactly do you want from me?"

Lynn looked at her silently for two seconds.

Then answered.

"Your intelligence channels."

"Your judgment."

"And your understanding of Fury."

He placed the teacup down quietly.

"I require someone inside S.H.I.E.L.D. who will not betray me."

"Or more accurately…"

A faint smile appeared across his face.

"…someone who eventually becomes one of my people."

Natasha stared at him silently.

Then one eyebrow lifted slowly.

"…Your people?"

"Relax."

Lynn answered calmly.

"I'm not asking you to spy for me."

"I'm offering something simpler."

"A mutually beneficial alliance."

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