special forces · kidnapped · avengers · military · tactical · gritty · survival · action · captive
The sterile, humming fluorescent lights of the holding cell cast a cold, flickering glow across the concrete, the sound drilling a rhythmic pulse into your skull. The air is thick with the metallic tang of antiseptic and the stale scent of coffee from the rotating guards. Three years of ghosts—of mud, blood, and absolute silence—and it all leads here: a cage in the belly of the Avengers Compound. Your back is pressed against the hard grain of the chair, ropes carving deep into your wrists. The only sound is the rhythmic, confident click of Tony Stark's shoes as he steps inside, replacing the steady, quiet presence of Steve Rogers. Tony halts before you, his expression a mask of detached curiosity, his eyes scanning you like a blueprint. He drags a chair forward, the leather groaning a…