In The DC World With Marvel Chat Group

Inside the Avengers' base, Natasha took the red flag medal in her hands, her eyes widening at the worn marks on it.

"How is it? Is it real?" Steve asked.

Natasha slightly opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "I've never received this medal, and the history of the Red Flag Medal is quite long with many variations. However, judging from these wear marks, it shouldn't be a commemorative item..."

"The Red Flag Medal has been widely awarded, and you can even find them on the market now. It's unlikely someone would go through the trouble of making fakes, right?"

After hearing this, Natasha held the medal in her hand, looked at Steve, and said, "Are you a bit late to join the communist cause now?"

"Don't joke around." Steve's face turned serious. "We found this in Schiller Sanatorium's office. Now, we suspect that his wife might have been from the same era as you, and she might have undergone genetic modification. She could have also come from the Red Room..."

"Impossible." Natasha immediately denied this possibility. Then, she gazed at the medal, and Steve looked at her beautiful face but couldn't read any emotion from it. This female agent had always been adept at controlling her emotions.

"Perhaps you don't understand the circumstances of that time, and I'm not eager to discuss it either because it's been a long time. However, no matter what, it's impossible for anyone other than me to gain immortality through modification."

Natasha took a deep breath and began her narrative:

"I was born in 1928 in Stalingrad. At that time, the Soviet Union had just started its first five-year plan, and everything was in its early stages, including intelligence work."

"No country in this world didn't need agents. Realizing this, they began selecting gifted children for training, and I was one of those who received modifications."

"Were there other children who received modifications around the same time as you?"

"No, there were no children who received modifications around the same time as me." Natasha sighed and looked at Stark. "At that time, World War II had already begun, Stalingrad had become a frontline battlefield, and the Soviet Union was fully committed to the war effort. The Red Room plan had been shelved."

"Moreover, back then, science and technology weren't as advanced. I was the only one who underwent modification, and luckily, it was successful."

"You can understand it this way: my encounter with Captain America was similar. We were both born as super soldiers for war. This kind of success is not replicable. The U.S. doesn't have a second Captain America, just as the Soviet Union doesn't have a second Black Widow."

Natasha's words convinced Steve. He knew himself that the super soldier serum had only succeeded in him. Over 70 years had passed, and there was still only one Captain America.

If you had to pinpoint a reason, apart from luck, the level of science and technology in that era was indeed less advanced. Steve remembered that before the experiment began, he had overheard the staff saying that it was a massive project that almost bankrupted the army's budget. However, in the end, there was only one successful outcome.

At the time, while the U.S. wasn't as affluent as it is now, the Soviet Union faced similar challenges. Additionally, the Soviet Union had to confront enemies on the frontlines, which likely strained their resources. It was normal for their strategies not to lean in this direction.

"Or, to put it another way," Natasha crossed her arms and said, "if they had created a battalion of me back then, would the frontlines have been so brutal?"

Stark and Steve both nodded. Then, Stark suddenly asked, "So, did you defect because they used you as a human experiment, risking your life?"

Natasha made a scoffing sound and said, "You don't know how happy I was when they told me I was selected as a subject for experimentation. It was the happiest day of my life because I thought I could finally dedicate my life to this great country with such incredible power."

Stark observed that Steve turned his head slightly, a touched expression on his face. Evidently, he understood Natasha's past more deeply now.

"Fundamentally, there's no difference between me and Steve. You don't have the standing to accuse anyone of risking lives, because Captain America is also a product of human experimentation. We were both created to face war, with no distinction of rank. The difference is that your homes are still intact, while I..."

Natasha shook her head. Stark noticed a different emotion in Natasha's eyes as she looked at the medal again.

But soon, the female agent masked her expression and said, "I believe your speculations are complete nonsense. You folks in the U.S. love these melodramatic storylines."

"First, only I gained the gene for immortality. The other Red Room agents died long ago."

"Secondly..." Natasha pinched the medal with two fingers and held it up to her eyes. "Do you really think anyone can just obtain this medal?"

"I acknowledge that the later Soviet Union did tend to hand out medals haphazardly, but judging by the craftsmanship of this medal, it's an earlier version of the Red Flag Medal, and it's quite substantial."

"However, what you don't understand is that in the intelligence field, earning the Red Flag Medal is extremely difficult. One must make significant contributions to have a chance. The Cambridge Five, you should know about them?"

Stark and Steve both nodded, and Natasha continued, "The most well-known among the Cambridge Five, Harold 'Harry' Philby, was a recipient of the Red Flag Medal. And his contributions, well, I don't think I need to elaborate on them."

Shaking her head, Natasha said, "I consider myself a top performer in the Soviet Union's intelligence sector even before I left the Red Room. I did more than agents did. I even participated in wars. However, I never received this medal."

"If another female agent had received this medal during that time, I would have known. Furthermore, if there was such an exceptional female agent, we would definitely be familiar with each other. But as far as I know, there is no such person."

The deduction reached another deadlock. Stark and Steve were lost in thought. At this moment, Natasha suddenly said:

"The story you've concocted is quite melodramatic, and it doesn't align well with reality. There are too many forced elements in it, with many loopholes in terms of both time and space..."

"In my view, the situation is quite simple," Natasha speculated. "You say he was a rebellious personality in his youth, and somehow he got 'cured' of it."

"To put it this way, if there really were such a powerful psychologist in this world, they would have to be an academic giant. How could you have not heard their name?"

"A female Soviet Union agent, renowned in the field of psychology, an immortal, a sufferer of neurodegenerative diseases... each of these is a low-probability event. The likelihood of them coinciding is quite small, and I believe you're aware of that."

"I think Schiller might not have been cured by someone else. It's highly likely that he healed himself."

"But Schiller emphasized to us many times that a physician cannot heal themselves," Steve interjected.

"But he didn't exactly heal himself either. Is it possible that he was healed by some sort of spiritual or idealistic transformation?"

Steve and Stark were both taken aback. Clearly, they were reminded of something. Stark was about to question the idea, but Steve said, "Indeed, that's quite plausible."

"You wouldn't be suggesting that Schiller is actually that Soviet Union agent, who was inspired by communism and joined the KGB?" Stark's tone carried a hint of absurdity.

"Are occurrences like that so rare?" Natasha countered. "In those times, such individuals were numerous. Even though I conducted intelligence work in other countries, I know that the majority of my colleagues were like that, forging ahead..."

At this moment, Stark heard Steve sigh. His tone had a touch of melancholy, carrying the unique sense of nostalgia when reminiscing about the past. He said, "Correct, perhaps you can't imagine, but it was an era flooded with idealists."

"Every Soviet Union person I knew would light up when talking about their country. Since then, I haven't seen that pure light of idealism anywhere else."

"Perhaps we might not understand or endorse that ideology, but the country became so powerful for a reason."

Stark fell silent. The sound of his combat suit's "beeps" echoed in his ears. As someone who hadn't experienced that era, it was truly difficult to envision.

However, pages upon pages of historical materials scrolled through his mind. They contained examples that were even more sensational than the stories they'd heard—endless waves of people, igniting sparks that grew into roaring flames...

Yet, standing downstream of history, Stark knew the fate of those towering figures who once stood at the pinnacle of Earth. He looked at Natasha.

At this moment, Natasha was lost in thought, staring at the badge in her hand. Stark felt a sense of illusion. He saw a hint of longing in Natasha's eyes.

He had heard Natasha curse that country countless times. It wasn't a disguise. He could even say that her condemnation was more heartfelt than if he, an American, were to express it.

What did she hate so much? What was she reminiscing about?

Seeing Natasha in this state, Stark began to believe that perhaps those glorious years had become their lifelong pride and lifelong nightmare.

Stark looked down again at the folder of documents. Was Schiller also like this?

The so-called loved one didn't exist. What he loved, what had healed him, what had pulled him back from the edge of the abyss, was the campfire ignited on the Siberian snow, the brilliance shining beneath the red flag...

And now, what tormented him, what he couldn't let go of for so long, what he would never forget, was this worn red medal.

It could be said that what they had seen at the Schiller Temple of Thought and what they had speculated before were just conjectures. Now, the only tangible evidence was these documents and this medal.

If there's one thing that's certain, it's that Schiller indeed possesses this red medal, has indeed seen this once immensely important list, and does indeed have a relationship with that deceased country.

Perhaps, the only true harm comes from here, and it's incurable.

Stark and Steve both realized this.

In Schiller's Temple of Thought, after witnessing that gruesome scene, they felt that if they had to choose between a collapse of their mental fortitude and death, they would choose the latter.

But now, it seemed that the collapse of their mental fortitude might not have been the worst. After all, there were deeper catastrophes that followed.

"I believe he doesn't need treatment," Natasha said, clearly speaking about Schiller, but Stark heard her as if she were talking about herself.

"If he truly fell ill because of this, then he doesn't need treatment. He can't be treated, and nobody is qualified to treat him."

Steve and Stark fell silent for a moment. Suddenly, Stark spoke as if he had recalled something, "Wait a minute, if both the stories about his parents and his wife aren't true, then who does he want to resurrect?"

Steve widened his eyes and locked gazes with Stark. Both of them suddenly had a bad feeling.

Steve spoke rapidly, "I remember, he already hung that 'Hades' on a coconut tree, faced Death's threat, and that Hades didn't help him resurrect the person he wanted to resurrect. That suggests that the individual might be beyond resurrection..."

"Or in other words, even Hades couldn't resurrect them, so the only possibility is..."

Stark and Steve turned around quickly. Natasha called after them, "Wait! The matters involving Hydra and Baron Zemo!"

Stark turned around and extended his hand, saying, "Do you really think Hydra matters now?"

Even Steve chimed in, "I understand Hydra. At most, they'd resurrect Red Skull. I could just fight him again if needed. But if Schiller wants to resurrect the Soviet Union... dear God! Stark, start the car, let's go to the hospital!"

The two hurriedly left, not even bothering to take the folder of documents and the medal. After they left, Natasha played with the medal for a moment, then took out her mobile phone and called Nick.

"Hello? Director, I guided them as you instructed. I think they believe it now. However, the stories about Schiller's wife and parents seem quite true, they really aren't..."

On the other end of the line, Nick's voice came through with a cold snort, "Wife? He had a damn wife? I bet even the stories about his parents were fabricated by him, just to dupe sympathetically-heroic figures like Iron Man and Captain America."

"He's been hanging out with Loki and Stephen again recently. He must have found another poor sap to pit against. Mental illness? He's only mentally ill because he can't scam money!"

"Using a fake death and a demon god's eruption to force me to reveal the Helicarrier, and yesterday, those annoying military folks took away one of my carriers!"

"Moreover, Schiller even took out Baron Zemo. Without this big enemy, what am I going to do with next year's budget?!"

"And those three frauds without a sense of virtue still want to fool Iron Man and Captain America into doing their dirty work? They don't stand a chance!"

Natasha shook her head. Clearly, she wasn't quite in agreement with the term "three frauds."

Playing with the medal, Natasha said, "To be honest, Director, where did you get an early version of the Red Flag Medal? It's not easy to come by."

"Red Flag Medal? What Red Flag Medal? I clearly got the Order of the Motherland Medal, those are all over the place. I got a decent one and had Coulson deliver it... Coulson! Coulson! What's going on? Did you send the wrong medal?"

"You haven't delivered it yet? What have you been up to?! Wait, if your medal hasn't been delivered, then Natasha's place... Hello! Hello? ...Natasha, are you there?"

With a snap, the medal fell onto the table. Natasha lowered her head slowly, looking at the documents left on the table, utterly stunned.

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