CH: 293 Talk of Faith

{Chapter: 293 Talk of Faith}

"Are you feeling very unwilling?" the White Queen asked, her gaze locking onto Natasha's eyes with an unreadable expression.

Natasha gave a bitter, hollow smile. "What's the use in being unwilling? If you lack the power to change anything, then unwillingness is nothing more than a whisper in a hurricane—ignored, forgotten, and swept away. Powerless resentment is like an ant crushed beneath a boot—utterly meaningless."

She exhaled slowly, voice tight but unwavering. "That bastard was right about one thing: words don't kill enemies. And they sure as hell don't save the world."

"Well said. Very well said indeed. Bravo." William clapped slowly, mockingly, his smirk crooked and poisonous. "You want a medal too, maybe?"

Natasha didn't flinch. She didn't even look at him.

"But even so…" she continued, eyes distant, voice steady like steel beneath frost, "I won't surrender—not even the smallest shred of hope. You can laugh. You can call it foolish, naïve, or delusional. I don't care anymore."

Ada turned to her, voice low and composed, with the faintest glint of admiration in her eyes. "That calm in the face of despair—that's the mark of a true agent. Not strength, not fury, but clarity when the world is collapsing around you. That's what keeps you breathing."

Alice gave Ada a long look, her eyes narrowing. "You remember what that's like? I almost forgot—you were an agent too."

Ada's lips curled into the barest hint of a smile, enigmatic and edged with memories too sharp to speak aloud. "Once. Long enough to know the difference between surviving and falling apart."

She looked at Natasha again, her voice like velvet over a blade. "Hold on to that fire, Romanoff. But make sure it doesn't burn you from the inside out."

At that moment, Maria, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke. Her tone was much calmer than before. "Natasha, you're right. Even if the odds are slim to none, we won't let go of the last shred of hope."

"Hope," William mused, as if tasting the word. "It's a beautiful concept, I admit. But I much prefer despair. There's something oddly satisfying about watching someone fall into despair—like seeing a candle flicker out in the darkness. It gives me peace."

"You wouldn't understand what hope truly means," Maria said coolly. "Because you've never had anything worth believing in. You don't know faith."

"You think I don't have faith?" William asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What kind of faith could someone like you possibly have?" Maria scoffed.

William smirked. "Do I really need to say it out loud?"

Before he could respond, the White Queen interrupted with a roll of her eyes. "Let me answer for him. His faith is simple—chaos. Killing, arson, plundering, and of course, abducting beautiful women. You two just happened to be unlucky enough to catch his eye. Congratulations, you've both been drafted as the unwilling brides of the local warlord."

Maria snorted. "That's your idea of faith? That's laughable."

"And what's wrong with that?" William leaned forward slightly. "Why does my belief offend you so much?"

"Because it's not belief," Hill shot back. "It's barbarism, pure and simple. Don't call it faith. You're insulting the very idea."

William chuckled darkly. "You sound so self-righteous. Then tell me, Commander Maria Christina Hill, what is your belief?"

"To protect national interests," she said firmly. "To uphold justice, and to fight for world peace—even if it means giving up my life while walking in dark"

William whistled sarcastically. "Wow. That sounds so noble. I'm honestly touched. But here's the thing—what's the point of having such a lofty belief if you're powerless to act on it?"

"You—!" Maria glared at him, but he cut her off.

"You say I don't have beliefs. But I've done everything I wanted. I've bent the world to my will. You, on the other hand, hold your precious belief close to your chest like a talisman, but you can't even protect yourself. So tell me—what good is belief when it can't change reality? Can it feed you? Can it shelter you? Let's see if your ideals fill your stomach after three days of no food."

Maria took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling slowly. "You'll never understand. You live in a twisted world where morals don't matter. But belief isn't about reward. It's about direction. It's what keeps people from turning into monsters like you."

William's eyes narrowed. "You keep saying I'm twisted, but look around. The world is twisted. Your noble ideals? They're outdated relics. National interests? World peace? Those are lies fed to the masses to make them obedient. I'm just being honest about the world we live in."

He stepped forward with a cruel smile. "But don't worry. I'll help you. I'll help you discard your foolish ideals and realign your thoughts—I will completely correct your twisted belief."

"Haha, who do you think you are?" Maria sneered, her voice steady with conviction. "You really underestimate me. It's true, I won't deny that you're physically stronger than I am—but when it comes to spirit, to willpower, to sheer inner strength... you'll never come close to matching me."

William chuckled, clearly amused. "I admire that kind of confidence," he said. "Let's see if you can hold onto it."

Without warning, he stepped closer and reached for her wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Maria demanded, pulling her arm back instinctively.

"Relax," William said, loosening the ropes binding her hands. "I'm just helping you get free. Look at your wrists—red marks, bruises. That kind of thing really makes me feel... emotional."

As the rope fell away, he gently touched her wrist, his expression feigning concern. "See? It hurts, doesn't it? Poor thing. That actually makes me sad."

"Let go of me," Maria snapped, yanking her arm away with a sharp motion. "Aren't you worried I'll escape the moment I'm free?"

William gave a light laugh, the kind that danced on the edge of mockery. "Honestly? No. I'm far more worried about hurting your hands. That's something I just couldn't live with. You don't understand how deeply I care." His voice was dripping with insincerity.

Maria's frown deepened. "Do you ever stop being fake?"

Before William could respond, the White Queen's voice cut in with a tone of smug confidence. "There's no need to worry about escape. You can't run. It's impossible to get out of here unnoticed. That's the only reason this man is playing the gentleman."

William pointed at her with a grin. "Exactly! Thank you for the backup, White Queen. I'm only trying to be considerate. Wouldn't want to leave scars on her beautiful wrists."

"You're so full of it. You're not a gentleman—you're a walking pile of hypocrisy and shamelessness," Natasha snapped with open contempt.

William turned toward her, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, since you said that, Natasha, I'm afraid I'll have to leave your hands tied. Consider it a punishment for your sharp tongue."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Do you think I care about your petty threats?"

Maria, now free, walked over to Natasha and began untying her rope without a word. Natasha looked at her silently, giving a small nod of appreciation.

William gave a theatrical sigh. "Well, since Maria is the one untying you, I'll let it slide. Just this once."

Natasha flexed her wrists and looked up at him coldly. "You claim you and Maria are close, but there's no universe where that's going to happen. Keep dreaming."

William laughed heartily, clearly unfazed. "Hahaha! Funny, I remember back on the aircraft carrier, you were singing a different tune. Back then, you seemed pretty optimistic about me—encouraging even."

"I was blind," Natasha snapped, her voice rising slightly. "I hadn't realized you were such a lowlife back then."

William raised both hands in mock surrender. "Hey, what can I say? People change."

He turned and gestured broadly around the room. "Now that you're free, you ladies can take a break. Rest a little. Don't waste time thinking about escape or rebellion—it won't work. White Queen is watching your every move."

White Queen raised her hand with a playful smile. "Yes. Try anything funny, and I'll know before you take the first step."

William nodded. "Exactly. So why not enjoy yourselves instead? There's a full gym over there, a modest but luxurious swimming pool, and all the basic amenities. Of course, you're not allowed to leave the top floor, but think of it as... a private resort getaway."

Natasha and Maria exchanged a glance, then began to look around. The room was surprisingly spacious and well-equipped. Dumbbells, treadmills, resistance machines, even a yoga area—all lined up with military precision. The swimming pool wasn't huge, but it was clean and sparkling under the ceiling lights.

"You really went all out on this place," Natasha said sarcastically. "Impressive. If only it didn't feel like a golden cage."

"In life," William said, lifting his chin proudly, "those who don't know how to enjoy the moment are destined to be failures. As a young man of taste and vision, I consider it my duty to savor the finer things."

Alice, who had remained quiet for a while, looked at him seriously. "Enough about your 'luxury lifestyle.' The real battle is going to start in New York, isn't it? That's the place."

William's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker in his eyes.

Maria's face darkened immediately. "Wait. Are you talking about the Chitauri?" she asked, voice tense. "Is that where they're going to invade?"

The smile faded from William's lips.

The room suddenly felt colder.

*****

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