HYDRA

It was a lucky coincidence. The perfect windfall.

They had sent several teams to retaliate against SHIELD and the Avengers for their most recent raid against them, when they came across the youngest member. The secret one.

Syrinx Melos.

Even when they had been hidden within SHIELD, HYDRA had never been able to get much information on her. There was nearly nothing on her in public record, and even when the girl had worked for the organization, she'd been directly handled by Nick Fury; her files so classified that only he held access. Not even the defense minister had been able to access her dossier. No photos, no videos, no after action reports on her gifts and abilities. Then SHIELD fell, and rose once more from the ashes, cleansed of HYRDA and the girl became even more unreachable. So she was shelved as interesting, but low in priority as they fought to remain free of SHIELD, fought each other for control and continued their schemes. Eventually the girl was forgotten about.

Then their teams came across her as they had; alone, injured, vulnerable. The tides were turning in their favor once more. Divine intervention. When they mysteriously lost access to the scepter not even two weeks after the invasion in New York, they prayed that they had enough material, enough power stored away to continue for years; to complete their work.

Two years later they were close; the twins nearly ready. But they had run out resources, their research incomplete just short of the final break through. They despaired that without the original source, all would have been for nothing. But HYDRA is nothing if not resourceful. Cut off one head, and two more shall take it's place. And not two weeks later on, they got the girl. The girl and her wings and her power. Her power that sang. The same way the scepter's power had.

The girl was the key to everything.

It had taken a fierce fight, with more than eighty percent losses on their side. The Avengers fought hard to protect her, to prevent them from taking her. But their men had come away with the prize. A prize who was now strapped down to a table; wings spread out like a pinned butterfly, muzzled and gagged so she couldn't twist anymore of their men's minds in order to escape.

She was magnificent. An anomaly. An asset.

The perfect leverage and the final piece they needed to propel the twins to greatness. Very little else worked; but their singular successes were magnificent.

After all. There was nothing more horrifying than a miracle.