A shout-out to Douglas J for the patron support!

***

While the New York Hall of Science became the focus of attention, one of the most prominent locations regarding the entire event remained unchecked. With another growl of rev from her bike, the biker turned left and came to a squeaking stop of her tires. Taking off the helmet and revealing her long red hair alongside a pretty face, Natasha hung the helmet on her bike's handle before walking towards the entrance of Osborn Corporation. A skyscraper with a hidden wealth of knowledge and technology. Clearing herself from the entrance security, Natasha looked around while casually walking to the escalator leading to the second floor. Despite Norman's absence, the place ran as usual. The company had its own line of responsibility and accountability that didn't involve Norman on a daily basis. The company's headquarters itself contained a research center alongside the section for commercial employees. 

"Hi, I am looking for Harry Osborn," Natasha smiled at the receptionist of the first floor, "He called me saying that he urgently requires me... assistance," Natasha uttered, making the dull receptionist who had already lost her drive for the job sigh. "Harry Osborn doesn't work here." Frowning at her words, Natasha tilted her head in confusion and shuffled a picture out of her back pocket, causing quite a few men to glance at her direction, "Um, he doesn't work here? He said that he'll be present in these hours." Natasha said while placing the picture face-front on the counter, inducing the receptionist to tilt the picture slightly and instantly put it back with a blank expression.

"You mean Norman Osborn?" The receptionist inquired to confirm as Natasha shrugged. "I am told that he is Harry. How would you expect someone like me to know all the names, eh? In fact, the man asked for a special service with conditions that he is not to be pointed out publicly. So... can you call him?"

"Oh, no way, sweetheart," The receptionist gave Natasha a spiteful smirk, "I ain't losing job for a booty call this early in the day. Tell you what, I'll contact the P.A. Just go to the thirteenth floor. The entire place is Mr. Osborn's office."

"Aw, thank you," Natasha smiled and took the photograph with her, seductively pushing it back into her pocket while winking at a nearby researcher who was making his way in the opposite direction. Once the woman entered the elevator, she took out a small chip with one side sticky. An encrypted bug. Which she instantly placed against the circuit board of the elevator, letting the S.H.I.E.L.D tech do its job. Finally, after she reached the thirteenth floor, she found a beautiful woman dressed in formals waiting for her. "You must be the 'service'." The woman commented softly, "Please wait. I have already sent a message to Mr. Osborn—"

Before she could complete, the red blink of the security camera behind her went off, pulling Natasha into action as the redhead instantly jumped and straddled the secretary's face with her thighs and twisted her waist to being the blond woman down with a muffled yelp before a punch to her face silenced her. "Huff," standing up, Natasha walked towards the interior of the office. The personal space of Osborn wouldn't be littered with bodyguards is there wasn't Norman in the first place which made Natasha's job quite easy. Within a few moments, she reached the heart of the office where the decor wasn't a lavish collection but personal items. Pictures, collectibles, and other items of emotional importance. 

"Okay..." Muttering to herself, Natasha let her eyes take the entire view of the office. The furniture structured by the finest quality of wood. A self-portrait hanging to the right for guests to see. A monitor in the center of the table and a set of sofas and an ornate table to the left corner aside from the two chairs present to the opposite of the master seat that faced the monitor. "Right... so, hidden compartments it is." Natasha walked towards the portrait while letting her fingers run through the wall itself, trying to find any discrepancies. Tilting the portrait in various directions and then removing it failed to bring any change. Shifting her focus, Natasha walks up to the monitor and attaches a flash drive to one of the ports present on the system as the background of the monitor slides open to reveal a background function already working.

Instantly, a window popped open. A video feedback featuring Norman Osborn looking directly into the webcam installed while snarling grimly. "I've had enough people snooping around. I just wanted to break my family's curse but no. All of you with your selfish agendas. I am coming for all of you. Should I survive, the end of your lives would begin." As the video disappeared, the entire system crashed, making Natasha groan in frustration as she took her flash drive back and took out a tiny communicator with a single function to contact a certain individual and receive the information from that very individual himself.

"Director," Natasha sighed as the Nick picked up from the other side of the line, "Norman knew about us spying on him. He just went hail mary on his entire research. Somebody must have tipped him off. I'll try to salvage anything from the main system."

"You do that. We don't want other departments to know of our involvement so keep it discreet. With S.I.N's failure, many old wounds are being opened as we speak."

"I'll keep that in mind. Discreet." Natasha smiled and hung up before looking at the picture present on the table. It was a young Norman alongside his father but gazing at the picture carefully, Natasha furrowed her brows and decided to take the picture with herself, leaving the empty frame behind. "Now, let's discreetly have some fun~!" Natasha snickered, walking out of the office while letting her butt sway in a hypnotic swing.

---

"You do that. We don't want other departments to know of our involvement so keep it discreet. With S.I.N's failure, many old wounds are being opened as we speak." As Natasha hung the call, a chuckle interrupted Nick Fury's train of thought. "Am I an old wound now?" Turning his head, Nick Fury gazed at Steve Rogers eyes and shook his head, "More like a savior, but still an old one." Meanwhile, packing his duffle bag. "I am no savior. Just a soldier who needs adapting to his home after a war. Still, take care of yourself, Nick."

"Think carefully, Captain"

"Steve. Just Steve," The blonde man chuckled, "I am not entering another war without even knowing the time I'm in. I've seen plenty of soldiers driven by belief and not knowledge. I was one of them, until I got the opportunity to look at things from a higher position. Monsters, enhanced humans... Director, this organization may as well be the cause of war in the near future so take care of the place before it actually happens." Steve smiled and pointed at one of the agents, "Son, lead me out of here." 

Before the agent could comply, he looked at Nick who nodded without giving much thought. The S.H.I.E.L.D already had enough manpower to keep an eye on the captain and keep other agent organizations away. Not to mention that Captain barely held trust to an unknown organization and only showed a decorum of respect out of the information he had received. "By the way? What's this Sin stuff you were talking about? Leather bondage?" Captain looked back and inquired with a curious expression, "I almost got stuck in one of 'those' clubs if you know what I mean," the man clicked his tongue, making Nick sigh and suggest the captain, "Let the agent stay with you. He can help you familiarise with the—"

"No need for that," Steve shook his head, "Let me get the groove back myself. Been a long time since I took a walk. What did you say, seven decades?" 

"A little more," Nick stated as Steve nodded, "Right... yeah, I'll get stuff done myself."

With that said, Captain was led by the agent and instantly, Steve's attention was attracted by the street full of people! Full! Everyone busy, vehicles filling the roads, tall, gigantic buildings with animations on their surfaces, and yet everything gave him a sense of order and peace. "Woah..." Steve muttered under his breath as the short-haired agent looked at Steve Rogers with a hint of amusement. However, the amusement soon turned into annoyance as Steve stopped for the umpteenth time. At a stall, to be precise. With a wide smile, Steve greeted the young seller, "Hello there. Um, I would like lunch." Steve waited for the man to process his words before the stall owner rolled his eyes, "Three Special Roofy Tacos coming right up! That'll by 7, pal." The young man began preparing as the agent walked up and took out his wallet only for Steve to shake his head. "Say, you seem awfully... tired. Do you want my help? In exchange for... lunch." The seller took a deep breath and gazed at the agent, "He on drugs, bro? I need cash for food, bro! No jokes, man! My family's— Whatever! Just take your 'lunch' and pay up." 

"Listen to him, Captain. You—"

"Son," Steve leaned forward, his expression completely serious. "I just came out of a war and I know the look when I see another stuck in a war. Let me—"

Without allowing Steve to finish, the young seller gritted his teeth and took out a handgun from his back, shouting, "Hey! I said stay out of it! I don't need anyone's help! Just leave me be!" His expression vicious while the Agent's hands already trailed behind his belt, slowly reaching out for his own weapon when suddenly, Steve reached out for the gun in the boy's hand with am amazing flick of his wrist and took it from his hand, throwing it towards the agent before punching the man squarely in his face, sending him flying back and blooded. But it wasn't over. By grabbing the young man's arms, Steve pulled the boy back up and smiled. "What's your name?"

"Paul!" The boy instantly stuttered, blood leaking from his nose, "I am Steve," Captain continued, "And I want to help you. I have nothing else to do. And by helping you, I have a selfish motivation to learn more. Say, why don't we help each other out?" Steve grinned, "I promise, I'll help your family. See that guy," pointing at the agent, Steve chuckled, "I want to leave his protection. And his annoying mocking stare. You are more genuine, Paul."

Gulping, Paul finally nodded slowly as Steve let go of the boy, "And one lunch, please. Wait, lunch is now called Tacos?" He inquired with a frown as Paul hurriedly prepared the meal and looked at Steve weirdly. "See?" Gazing back at the agent, Steve smiled with a casual expression, "I am well without your... 'lead' so, please leave me alone." Hearing him, the agent spoke up. "Captain, no offense. But if you are going to entangle with what seems like street gangs, I can't let you—"

"I am not entangling with anything." Steve gave his back to the agent, "I am helping Paul and find my own life here. I don't require someone's planned life for the remainder of my life... I am no longer a soldier. So, leave. This is the last time I am asking."

As the agent thought for a minute before taking out a communicator and contacting his superiors, Steve looked at Paul while he handed Steve a disposal with three tacos, "Is there a place to workout? I haven't moved in a long time... feel a little numb?"

"A gym? Yeah, we got one at our place. But... you will help me, right? There will be guns involved," Paul stated, making Steve chuckle, "Oh, I know. Now... how do we eat this?" Steve inquired, making Paul's expression bleak. Suddenly, Paul looked behind Steve's shoulders and pulled a confused expression. "Hey, man, where's your pal?"

"Pal?" Looking behind, Steve muttered, "Oh, you mean the Agent? I don't know. Maybe he left for good. I hardly doubt it though... some people are just too stubborn. Anyway, talk to me. What's going on with your family?"

"Cartel's up our asses, that's what going on!" Paul mumbled, "And your pal just stole my gun..."

"Alright... I didn't understand a single thing. Is something shoved up your ass? Don't you need to see a doctor?" Steve munched on the taco while Paul took a deep breath, "Ugh... maybe this is my last fuck up after all. Damn, horoscopes really got accurate these times..."