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- TEN -

I don't know how he found a plane, but as we soar through the sky, my eyes wander to the metal being in front of me. My whole life, I have been able to read body movements and facial queues, but somehow he is an accumulation of every human trait and none of them at all. Around him there is a chill that seeps through skin and bites into your bones.

But despite all of this, he has to help me.

Hours pass and I still can't discern where we are headed. Suddenly though, I hear something from the front of the aircraft. Tilting up my chin to see where its coming from, I see Ultron leaning against the wall humming to himself. Yet again, his voice brings a shiver to my spine.

"Where are we going?" I ask, my voice loud in the small space.

The humming stops. Without turning to look at me, I can practically feel his gaze.

"I have some people I want you to meet," he replies simply, not answering the question.

I remember my encounter with the fast man in New York; Pietro Maximoff.

"The twins? Pietro and Wanda, right?"

I phrase it as if I am curious, but the two of us both know I already know the answer.

He chuckles to himself.

"Yes. I have something I need the three of you to do for me."

Avoiding my question yet again.

-----------------------

Hours pass before we begin to descend and I lift my head up to scan the sky outside. We've traveled too far to still be in North America, but not far enough to be in eastern Europe or Asia. I doubt that Ultron has any business in the middle of the Atlantic Oceans, so my mind wanders to the left over possibilities.

When we finally land, the bay doors open and I'm greeted with a stifling heat. The air is dry but the warm breeze lifts my hair off my shoulders and I breathe in deeply. Finally, it clicks; he is a metal being trying to fight the Avengers and does not want to lose. How can he become stronger? All he needs to become better physically is a more powerful body.  Ultron turns to me with open arms.

"Welcome to-"

"Wakanda," I interject with a slight smirk. If a robot could look shocked, that would be the discernible reaction on his face.

"Vibranium," I say, answering his unasked question.  "I thought it was all gone?"

"No; not all of the vibranium was used in that patriotic frisbee that our beloved captain holds. Now, follow my lead," he mumbles.

We leave the ship and just begin to walk. I have no bearings here, but try to use the sun to find the time and possibly our direction. But there are no shadows for me to look at and the whole sky is lit up by blaring sunbeams.

We keep walking. Just as I begin to think that all he may just be taking me in the middle of nowhere, a fantastical sight appears before us. In the middle of a dry, desert-like plain, sits ten large cargo ships.

"What is this place?" I breath, the sight stark against the plain desert.

"Some salvage yard," he says waving his arm nonchalantly. "But that's not the important part. Grab on."

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