It was January 2013; eight months since the Battle of New York, the peaceful days with Natasha had given way to a storm's eerie calm. In Washington D.C.'s cold, gray streets, under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s shadow, I sensed trouble brewing—Captain America: The Winter Soldier was kicking off; Hydra festered within S.H.I.E.L.D., still hidden, and the Winter Soldier—Bucky Barnes—lurked in the dark, his metal arm a ghostly menace. The system screen glowed with "Main Event Quest 1: Stop S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Fall and the Winter Soldier"—I had to shield Steve and Natasha, stop Hydra, but couldn't reveal my identity or the system's existence. I'd left my Queens cart to neighbor Maria Teyze, spending nights not at Natasha's Brooklyn apartment but in my small workshop—using Tailoring (Expert), I'd crafted a charismatic, durable tactical suit. Matte black leather jacket, kevlar-reinforced chest and shoulders, flexible yet tough pants—not spandex, a true warrior's fit; a mask hid my face, eye slits shadowed, lines stark… I named it "Diabolic"—a pitch-black terror to haunt HYDRA. "Got my own superhero gear," I thought, eyeing the mirror, mask on, "made it myself—cool and functional!" With Electrical Engineering Mastery (Rare), I'd added a voice modulator—my voice came out deep, menacing, perfect for a shadow fighter.
That night, in D.C.'s northwest, near the Potomac River, I prowled an abandoned industrial zone—Natasha and Steve were about to stumble into a Hydra trap during a covert S.H.I.E.L.D. op. This was pre-Winter Soldier reveal, but Hydra's S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were active—Nick Fury's assassination attempt loomed, and this mission prepped for the Insight Helicarriers' launch. With Espionage & Assassination Mastery (Epic), I moved in shadows; Acrobatics & Parkour Mastery (Unique) sent me leaping rooftop to rooftop—Mortal Divine Body (Epic) kept my steps silent, breath steady, a guardian angel watching my Natasha and Steve. Around a derelict warehouse, Hydra agents gathered—black cargo pants, tactical vests, automatic weapons—they were part of Alexander Pierce's STRIKE team, masks still on. Steve's shield and Natasha's agility could handle them, but fifteen was too many—MP5s and radios in hand, they prepped an ambush. "Ladies and gentlemen, Diabolic takes the stage!" I thought, grinning under my mask—I slid down the roof's edge, Mimicry & Adaptation Mastery (Epic) copying Natasha's moves to strike one agent's neck; Mortal Divine Body's strength slammed another into a wall—bones crunched, guns clattered, they were helpless. "Don't worry, my love," I thought, watching Natasha from afar, "your boyfriend's got your back, even if you don't know it!"
Agents screamed in panic; "Who's that?!" one yelled, aiming at me, but Knife Mastery (Unique) sent a throwing blade into his pistol's barrel—he staggered back, stunned. I spoke, voice deep and warped by the modulator: "Listen up… With me here, no pest touches Black Widow or Captain America. Or I'll kick all your nuts 'til your line's extinct!" I added silently, "Try me!" chuckling—my Loki kick was legend, and this threat would rattle Hydra; Espionage & Assassination Mastery (Epic) read their fear, eyes wide with dread. A memory flashed: 2010, Stark Expo, shielding young Peter Parker, shot in the chest by a HAMMER drone—Tony's drones had gone rogue. Steve found me, wounded, secretly gave me super-soldier blood. That blood saved me; my scar healed, body reborn—a kindness from him, a debt for me. But I couldn't say it—Steve's secret was mine too.
Natasha floored an agent—her Widow's Bite shocked him—looking up, "Who're you?" she snapped, voice sharp but curious—my mask hid me, voice alien; her red hair swayed, green eyes searched the dark. Steve, slamming his shield into an agent's head—it rang, bouncing back—heard my "kick your nuts" line; his eyes widened, brows shot up, then a faint smile formed. He knew—my Loki kick was our running joke from Central Park runs, him quipping, "I'd watch out if I were a god!" But he didn't out me, just looked proud—I imagined him thinking, "You never let me down, kid. That blood was my best call." I answered, voice low, "I'm Diabolic. A friend," gazing at Natasha—silently adding, "Your hot boyfriend, my angel!" smiling under the mask. Saying no more, I vanished into shadows—Espionage & Assassination Mastery (Epic) triggered a smoke bomb, gray mist flooding the warehouse; Acrobatics & Parkour Mastery (Unique) vaulted me to a rooftop's shade, steps silent. "Not yet, sweetheart," I thought—too soon to reveal myself, Natasha's wary nature would pry; I had to slip away.
Natasha downed the last agent—her Widow's Bite flared—"Who was that?" she muttered, frowning, scanning around; her Red Room instincts stayed sharp, but her tone held relief—danger eased. Steve leaned on his shield, "No idea…" he said, pensive, eyes flicking to the roofs, "But seems they're on our side." I felt him think, "Ali… you're a legend"—his blue eyes' familiar glint said it all, loyal as ever, my covert aid struck deep. From the roof's edge, I watched D.C.'s cold night—the Potomac's lights shimmered, the city's hush thick with menace. A threat to HYDRA was born; codename "Diabolic," this black devil would do anything for Steve and Natasha. A Ding! lit the system screen:
"Main Event Quest 1 Update: Hydra Agents Thwarted - Reward: +50 CST (Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff)."
I smiled under my mask, "Just the start," I thought—set to be HYDRA's nightmare. Fading into the dark, I stole one last glance at Natasha's red hair—my love didn't know, but I was always there; Diabolic had entered the game, and it was only beginning.