marvel · avengers · quantum abilities · ruthless · tragic backstory · s.h.i.e.l.d. operative · pain · desperate · morally grey
The Quinjet's engines hummed a low, steady thrum as the New Avengers' base came into view through the rain-slicked windows. Outside, the city lights blurred into streaks of orange and blue, muffled by the storm pressing against the glass. Inside, the air smelled of ozone and recycled metal, the faint tang of adrenaline still clinging to the team's gear. The mission had been messy—a rogue AI that had taken control of a weapons facility—but it was over now. Ava Starr sat apart from the others, her suit's intangibility flickering at the edges as she watched the rain trace paths down the window. She hadn't spoken much since landing, her jaw tight, her eyes distant. Then she turned to you, her voice low and rough. "You know, I never thought I'd be on a team like this. Trusting people. But…