Philophobia ➤ W.M.

| 15 |

~=~

  Astrilde most definitely did not know how to ride a motorcycle. Still, she had responded with a semi-confident "yes" to Clint. The archer, Odin bless his soul, was none the wiser of her semi-obvious lie. Luckily for Astrilde, her lie was merely an assumption that she would be able to ride the vehicle. Asgard possessed similar vehicles, or at least ones that required similar skills, and she had read about motorcycles in books. So, while her confidence was false, she knew she could at least attempt to drive.

  At least, that was what she kept telling herself while she haphazardly maneuvered the motorcycle. Horns honked at her, but she ignored them and focused on the vehicle beneath her. She glanced up, her heart plummeting as she saw the stoplight go from yellow to red.

  "Shit!" Astridle yelped. She swerved sharply, adrenaline racing through her veins. The sound of horns surrounded her, but she didn't stop. Not until she reached the other side, nearly sent careening off the bike.

  Taking a shaky breath, she increased the speed on the metal contraption below her. I'm not going to crash. This is simple, it's just like riding a bilgesnipe. Wait, that's a horrible analogy. And I wouldn't consider that one time as riding as much as attempting to not be killed.

  Astrilde continued floating through her thoughts, before she remembered one important detail.

  "Uh... could anyone tell me where Steve's located?"

---

  Astrilde raced down the highway, headed straight to where Clint had informed her to go. The Asgardian spotted the truck up ahead, so she did something she regretted before it had even been committed. She swerved the vehicle towards the side of the road, launching it off a wooden plank that was propped up like a ramp. At the right moment, she jumped off the bike and managed to grab onto the side of the truck.

  The metal that dug into her skin caused her to groan, and she was sure that they had been cut. She hissed, pulling herself up and onto the top of the truck. She attempted to heal her hands, but she was still inexperienced, and it would take a while for everything to heal completely. So, she brushed off the annoying pain itching at the back of her mind to focus on Steve barrelling into Ultron, sending the duo into the moving train beside the truck. Without a thought, Astrilde leaped onto the train not a second later, landing on top of it.

  With a quick reassurance that Ultron and Steve had already destroyed some of the train, and a little more damage was no big deal, Astrilde stabbed her sword with the comparatively weak sword. She cut a space just big enough for her to squeeze through, before dropping down into the cab. There, she came face-to-face with Steve's body being hurled in her direction by an orange beam from Ultron. She scrambled back, tripping clumsily over metal that had fallen onto the ground.

  "I'm going in! Cap, can you keep him occupied?" Natasha's voice crackled to life through the coms.

  "What do you think I've been doing?" Steve asked tiredly. He was on the ground still, so Astrilde recovered quickly. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, she held out a hand and helped him up. She then turned back to Ultron, preparing to fight him off yet again with her sword firmly held in her hand.

  The duo started attacking Ultron, tag-teaming quite well despite the fact that they had never fought so closely. Unfortunately, their teamwork was not enough, and they were ultimately struggling against the AI. So much so that Astrilde was concentrating solely on her fighting, every sound becoming white noise.