…
Aboard a S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet
The cabin lights dimmed automatically.
Several large screens flickered to life above Nick Fury, displaying the faces of United Nations council members.
"Nick, you've overstepped."
"We authorized Leon Stark to assemble that group of enhanced individuals. Not you. They are not forces you can control," one councilor said coldly.
"Have you ever fought in a war, Councilor?" Fury shot back without hesitation. "A real war doesn't follow rehearsal. We cannot rely solely on Leon."
"When he's absent, I have both the authority and the responsibility, as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., to bring this team together."
"And I never intended to control them. Unless," he added dryly, "you enjoy being controlled in the middle of a fight?"
Silence flickered across the screens.
"Loki Odinson," another councilor said. "A god from Asgard. Is he as dangerous as Thor?"
"No," Fury replied. "He doesn't appear to be battle-oriented. And I remain cautious about labeling him our enemy."
"He seemed influenced by the so-called Mind Stone Scepter."
"Leon has already incorporated Thor into the Avengers Initiative," another councilor reasoned. "Since Thor and Loki are brothers, let him handle it."
"Thor is in Asgard," Fury countered. "Only Leon can contact or command him. That makes Thor an unreliable asset under current circumstances."
"I propose deploying the Hulk as our primary combatant—"
"The Hulk?!" The American representative nearly leapt out of his seat. "Absolutely not!"
"Nick, I will not permit you to activate the Hulk without Leon present. That creature will destroy everything!"
Among all enhanced individuals, two names haunted global leadership:
Leon Stark.
And the Hulk.
The United Nations had once hunted Bruce Banner—containment, termination, experimentation—every option on the table. But when Leon found him and placed him within the Avengers framework, they had no choice but to accept it—on one condition:
Leon bore direct responsibility.
Because only Leon seemed capable of holding the leash.
"It's too late for debate," Fury said with a thin smile. "He's already on his way."
The councilors' expressions tightened.
"Nick. Once this crisis is resolved, prepare yourself for a military tribunal."
"Your attention should be on Phase Two," another added. "Phase Two exists for precisely this type of extraterrestrial threat."
"Phase Two isn't ready," Fury snapped. "The enemy won't wait for us to finish building our 'fortress.'"
He leaned forward.
"Gentlemen. In three days, an alien army arrives in New York. And we're still debating whether to deploy our strongest response team."
His single eye hardened.
"Doesn't that strike you as absurd?"
The screens fell silent.
For once, none of them had a counterargument.
Manhattan, New York
In the basement of a retro-styled apartment prepared by S.H.I.E.L.D. for the recently revived Captain America, Steve Rogers hammered away at a heavy punching bag.
Seventy years frozen in ice.
A world transformed beyond recognition.
Peggy Carter—
Alive.
Aged.
Wrinkled.
A life lived without him.
He had awakened to a future that had no place for the man he once was.
BOOM.
One punch exploded the bag.
He hung another immediately.
A dozen shredded bags already littered the floor.
This was how he coped.
Footsteps approached from behind.
"Sir," Steve said without turning, "is there a mission?"
"Soldier," Fury replied evenly, "are you ready to save the world again?"
He handed over files detailing the Tesseract, Loki, and the alien known as Ebony Maw.
Steve skimmed the contents.
BOOM.
Another bag burst apart.
"I've always been ready."
Minutes later, Steve boarded the Quinjet with a small duffel slung over one shoulder.
"The man who brought me back…" he said quietly. "Leon."
"You want to thank him?" Fury guessed.
Steve nodded.
"You may have to hold onto that gratitude," Fury replied. "I have no idea where he is."
He paused.
"But you can meet his brother."
"Brother?"
Steve picked up the S.H.I.E.L.D. tablet Fury had provided, scrolling through Avengers personnel files.
Near the end—
"Iron Man… crossed out?"
"Iron… Super-Man? Tony Stark?"
"What the hell is this?"
Fury leaned closer.
Tony's profile image—smiling widely and flashing a double peace sign—had "Iron Man" scribbled over with a bright red cartoon X.
Beside it, a new alias had been added:
Iron Super-Man.
Even as they watched, the font styling changed slightly—someone, somewhere, actively editing the nickname in real time.
Fury stared at the screen.
"…I'm going to pretend I didn't see that."
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