( getting down here had been difficult enough — she plays the part of a supplicant well, but the voices.. natasha's never been a fan of things she couldn't see, and she had them aplenty in all those voices. it's like her greatest fears brought to life: you did not matter. your sacrifice did not matter.

now, before the locked and chained gates, there's something about this that has a sense of deja vu crawling down natasha's spine. a part of her wants to believe that she's it reminds her of vormir, the red skull, the end — wind rushing past her, clint's face as he lets her go, and then a crack. darkness. waking up here.

shaking it off, she leans over the inscription, brows pulling together a frown as she reads it again. sacrifice. she's had too much to do with sacrifice. still, what does she have to lose? )

I don't know about you, but I don't trust any instructions that are carved into literal doors.

( ooc: let's chat betrayal, etc., oocly! )