Following Captain America's command, Black Panther set to work dismantling the detonation mechanisms of the nuclear warheads one by one.
Unlike conventional explosives, nuclear weapons relied on precise atomic reactions — their trigger systems were intricate, delicate, and intentionally designed to be difficult to repair once tampered with. Once a warhead's fuse was removed, rearming it in time for use again would be nearly impossible.
In essence, Captain America had just cut off every path of retreat.
Perhaps due to the massive explosion from Daredevil's self-destruction earlier, no zombies had yet appeared to interrupt their work. The eerie calm was unnatural — a fragile silence hovering over the ruined streets of Queens.
Undisturbed, Black Panther worked with his usual precision and efficiency, stripping the warheads one after another until the deadly bombs became little more than empty shells — terrifying in appearance but harmless in reality.
Meanwhile, Captain America stood at the edge of the ruined boulevard, gazing toward the fog-shrouded heart of the city. The heavy mist swallowed everything ahead — the battlefield, the enemy, the horizon itself. It was a perfect image of what lay before them: uncertain, perilous, and filled with darkness.
---
Inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier Command Room, Agent Hill's voice broke through the static.
"Director, the nuclear warheads are being dismantled — rapidly."
Despite the gravity of her report, Nick Fury's face remained unreadable, as though he had expected this. He didn't answer immediately. His silence said enough — a silent permission.
But General Wilde, standing beside him, was anything but calm.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" he barked, slamming his fist against the table. "If they finish disarming those nukes, our entire operation is finished! Detonate the remaining ones immediately before it's too late!"
"If we detonate them now, we'll be the ones finished," Fury replied coldly, gesturing toward the tactical display on the main screen. The holographic map lit up, showing a vast red zone marking the estimated nuclear blast radius. He pointed at the coordinates overlapping the U.S. Navy carrier group stationed offshore.
"The convoy hasn't reached the designated zone yet. If we trigger the warheads here, they won't cover all of Queens — but they will wipe out our own strike fleet. You understand the consequences, General."
Sweat dripped from Wilde's forehead. "Then what do you propose we do? Just sit back and let them tear the bombs apart? You're gambling with everything we have left!"
"We'll prepare another convoy," Fury said calmly. "Assemble the surviving troops and have them escort a second set of warheads once this team fails. But before that—" He paused, narrowing his one good eye. "Let the superheroes make their final stand."
Wilde's face twisted in disbelief. "You're asking me to sacrifice what's left of my men for this fool's errand!"
Fury didn't deny it. "Then pray Captain Rogers wins before that happens."
"Wins?" Wilde laughed bitterly. "If they were capable of winning, this war would have ended long ago!"
Fury didn't flinch. "They might," he said simply.
Having worked with heroes for decades, he had seen the impossible happen too many times to count. Every time the world faced annihilation — every time humanity was cornered — these extraordinary people had somehow turned defeat into victory.
Unlikely allies appeared out of nowhere, miracles unfolded on the battlefield, and even the most invincible enemies had fallen to fate's absurd mercy.
It was irrational. It was improbable.
And yet, in this world — it was routine.
So this time, Fury decided to believe again.
---
Back on the ground, Captain America and Black Panther pressed deeper into the ruins. The endless hordes of undead that once filled Queens had all but vanished. Perhaps the earlier blast had destroyed most of them, or perhaps something more ominous was at work. Only a few stray zombies shambled through the debris — easily dispatched by the two heroes.
The massive Chasers and the towering Thunderbeasts were nowhere to be found.
Still, both men were acutely aware that their own forces were just as scattered. Though the heroes had survived the explosion, most had been thrown miles apart by the blast wave. Each was likely fighting their own battle somewhere within the ruins.
"Captain," Black Panther said grimly, "just the two of us won't be enough. We need to regroup the survivors from the blast. It's the only way we'll have the strength to continue."
Captain America shook his head. "Not just that."
He adjusted his communicator, switching to the open channel that linked every soldier and hero still alive on the battlefield — even those retreating from the city. His voice came through strong and clear, echoing across every radio and headset.
"All combat personnel, this is Steve Rogers — Captain America."
"I know most of you have received the retreat order. Some of you have already escaped this nightmare. You've seen the trucks — the so-called final weapons — being driven into the city under my command. Maybe you thought your mission was over."
His voice hardened. "It isn't."
Taking a deep breath, Captain America continued — each word deliberate, unwavering.
"You deserve the truth. Those trucks — they're carrying nuclear warheads. Not one, not two — dozens. Enough to erase all of New York in a single flash. If they go off tonight, tomorrow morning the headlines will read: The United States has fallen. Because from that moment on, our country — everything we stand for — will be gone."
A pause. The silence on the open channel was absolute.
"Unless," he said, his tone rising with fierce conviction, "we prove that humanity doesn't need to destroy itself to survive. Unless we fight — with our own hands — and show them that we can win without turning our weapons on our own people."
"I won't lie to you. This will be hard. Many of us won't make it. Freedom has always demanded a terrible price."
He exhaled slowly — a soldier who had seen too much, but who would never stop believing.
"I'm willing to pay it."
"And if I'm the only one who does — then so be it."
A pause. Then, quieter, but filled with unshakable faith:
"But I don't believe I'll be alone."
_____
T/N:
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