Several days passed.
Life in New York gradually returned to normal, yet the battle that had shaken Harlem was still etched into people's minds. Time might soften wounds, but it could not erase the fear they had experienced.
The city had seen battles before. Thor's arrival on Earth had once sparked a storm of destruction, but that clash had been contained, known only to a handful of witnesses and classified reports.
This time was different.
This time, the entire world had been watching.
News helicopters had hovered above as cameras broadcasted the chaos live. Millions saw the clash of two titanic monsters tearing through buildings like paper and sending shockwaves through the city. Some spectators had even been close enough to feel the tremors in their bones, their eyes filled with the sight of gods walking among men.
The word "superhero" had never carried more weight. Public fervor reached unprecedented heights. People shouted on the streets, demanding to know who would protect them if not these extraordinary individuals. For the first time, humanity embraced the idea of relying on beings far beyond themselves.
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Agent Phil Coulson entered the Director's office.
Nick Fury sat behind his desk, his single eye calm and unreadable, the picture of composure. He leaned forward slightly, then asked an unusual question.
"Coulson, who's your idol?"
Coulson's eyes lit up immediately. The answer needed no thought.
"Of course, it's Captain America! In fact, I've collected every piece of Captain merchandise ever produced. Figures, posters, commemorative items you name it. Back at my place I even "
Halfway through, Coulson stopped himself.
This was S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Fury had not asked out of idle curiosity. The Director never did anything without a reason.
To his surprise, Fury allowed himself the faintest smile.
"Your chance has come."
Coulson blinked, confused.
"What do you mean, sir?"
Fury's voice lowered, deliberate and steady.
"Recently, we recovered the wreckage of a certain plane. The very one Captain America went down with. And inside, we found him."
Coulson's heart lurched. His breath caught in his throat.
Fury continued, his tone heavy with significance.
"He's alive."
Coulson froze. For a moment, he was no longer the calm, reliable agent but a man staring at the impossible. His idol, the symbol of a generation, the man who had stood for truth and justice… Steve Rogers was alive.
Fury's voice cut into his daze.
"We plan to send you to make contact with him. To be the first."
Coulson's lips parted in disbelief, excitement barely contained. His hands almost trembled with anticipation.
Fury was not done. He pulled a file from his desk and set it down. On the cover were three words written in bold: The Avengers Initiative.
"In order to counter growing threats, I drafted this years ago. But circumstances prevented its launch. The battle between Hulk and Abomination has made it clear to me: we can wait no longer. The Avengers Initiative must begin immediately."
He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in.
"This plan is about forming a team of extraordinary individuals, people who can face threats beyond the scope of any army. At first, I wasn't certain who could lead them. But now… with Captain America back, we have our answer."
Fury's eye gleamed. It was both opportunity and destiny colliding at once.
Coulson leaned forward eagerly. "And the team members? Who else do you have in mind?"
"Tony Stark. Nolan Lock. Both are on my evaluation list," Fury said firmly. "And Dr. Bruce Banner as well. Yes, the Hulk is volatile, but keeping him close might be the only way to prevent a greater disaster."
He fell silent, leaving the final obstacle unspoken.
Coulson understood anyway. Banner was already in military custody. Even beyond that, men like Stark and Lock were not ordinary recruits. They were forces of their own, unpredictable and independent.
Fury shook his head as if brushing aside the complexity. "That's not your concern. Your task is simple: bring back the Captain."
Coulson nodded, excitement written all over his face. His idol was alive, and he would be the one to welcome him back.
Once Coulson left, Fury turned thoughtful.
Stark was straightforward enough. Fury had spent years studying him, mapping out his flaws and strengths. Natasha Romanoff had already confirmed that Stark's palladium poisoning was worsening, threatening his life.
And Fury had exactly what Stark needed: the key to his father's legacy. The blueprint for a new element hidden within Howard Stark's plans for a future city. Tony's pride was a double-edged sword. It made him difficult, but it also ensured he could never allow himself to remain indebted. That pride would make him pliable.
As for Nolan Lock…
Fury's lips pressed thin. The man's sudden appearance in Harlem during the crisis told him everything. Nolan wasn't just talented he was decisive, ruthless, and already building an empire. But Fury had been in this game for decades. No one understood human nature better than him. No matter how formidable, Nolan Lock could be brought to the table.
He turned his gaze out the window of the Triskelion. Below, the Potomac River shimmered, reflecting the fading sun. Agents crossed the courtyard in twos and threes, their uniforms crisp, their movements purposeful.
Fury stood there for a long moment, and a rare feeling washed over him. Control. Just as it had always been. Everything was unfolding as planned.
Yet elsewhere, Nolan Lock sat in his own office, his thoughts on a different battlefield.
His efficient and attractive secretary had taken a sudden leave. Nolan did not need to guess where she had gone. Most likely, she had been dispatched to assist with the discovery of a certain old soldier now thawed from ice.
Meanwhile, headlines everywhere still blared his name and the name of Lock Industries. His image had been broadcast across the globe. The persona of the genius inventor and savior had been cemented. From here, it was a matter of maintaining it carefully while extracting every advantage it offered.
But beneath the success, one concern gnawed at him.
The Thunder Hammer Armor, though powerful, had revealed its limitations. Facing the Hulk's devastating punch, he had barely held on. Another two or three blows might have turned him into nothing more than pulp inside a steel coffin.
The suit demanded not only cutting-edge technology but also a strong body to wield it. Nolan knew his physical limits. To push them further, he thought of only one thing: Wakanda's heart-shaped herb.
And if not that, then vibranium.
The armor's layered alloys were strong, but nothing on Earth rivaled vibranium in durability or energy conduction. If he could rebuild the Thunder Hammer Armor with vibranium, its power would ascend to an entirely new tier.
The problem, of course, was Wakanda itself. A hidden fortress of a nation, nearly impossible to breach.
But then Nolan's eyes sharpened. There was another way.
The black market.
If memory served, there was still one man: Ulysses Klaue. A dealer in stolen vibranium. His stock was limited, but even a little would be enough for modifications.
Resolved, Nolan gave Red Queen her orders. Locating Klaue would not be easy, but it was a task worth pursuing.
That evening, as the sky darkened, Nolan returned to his villa. The moment he stepped onto the property, his instincts flared. Something was wrong.
"Red Queen," he murmured.
"Yes, sir."
"Status report. Has something happened here?"
"Scanning… no signals detected. No feedback received."
His expression hardened. The system had been jammed.
Still, he felt no panic. The villa housed only a secondary subsystem of Red Queen, one not so easily shut down. Cutting its network did not mean silencing it entirely.
From the outside, the property showed no obvious signs of disturbance. Nolan pulled a button-sized device from his pocket and slammed it to the ground.
A ripple of invisible force surged outward. In an instant, the house lit up.
"Connection restored," Red Queen confirmed. "Intruder detected. Target is currently under control."
Nolan arched an eyebrow, intrigued.
"So who's the idiot brave enough to break into my home?"
In the villa's living room, a bald man with a single eye stood tense, sweat beading his forehead. Around him loomed several Terminators, their soulless gazes fixed on him, weapons raised, ready to fire.
Nick Fury cursed himself. He had underestimated Nolan's defenses, believing he could slip in unnoticed. Now he stood exposed, caught in the lion's den.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention. Nolan Lock entered, his expression unreadable.
Fury forced himself to remain composed, his spine straight, his gaze steady. He drew a deep breath and spoke.
"Nolan Lock. This should be our first meeting. I am Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D."
He delivered the words with calm authority, as if the situation were already under his control.
Nolan studied him for a moment, then let out a soft laugh.
"So, you're Carter's boss. The head spy himself. Honestly, you don't look like much."
The words hit Fury harder than bullets. His breath caught for a fraction of a second.
Nolan Lock knew about Sharon Carter. He knew she was S.H.I.E.L.D.
Fury's mind screamed.
Damn it.
This was already slipping beyond his grasp.
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