~ S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier ~
Nick Fury, as so many times before, was in his usual place aboard the Helicarrier, accompanied by the ever-precise Maria Hill.
"Is everyone in?" he asked without taking his eyes off the monitors.
"Affirmative. Steve and Gwen responded to the call. Natasha and Clint remain on direct line. Tony, as expected, agreed to help since his technology is involved. Banner, though still unable to control Hulk, will contribute his knowledge. As for Thor, he's not on Earth. Leonardo assured us he'll intervene when necessary."
Fury allowed himself a slight smile. The World Council hadn't officially recognized them yet, but the Avengers were already assembled. It was only a matter of time before they began to act.
"And the Tesseract?"
"Per your orders, it's here, in this very facility. Guarded solely by fully vetted agents. No Hydra traces."
"Good" Fury said with a firm nod.
The Avengers were ready. The Tesseract, secured. They had done everything they could... for now.
As he reviewed the situation, Fury couldn't help but recall the past few months—a living hell.
Since Leonardo exposed Hydra's infiltration, the world had plunged into panic. Most civilians didn't know what to believe, but the elites—the ones who did know—started fleeing New York.
The government tried to maintain calm with carefully crafted speeches. Manhattan was fully evacuated. The city became what it had always feared becoming: a battlefield.
But then, the second image appeared.
A clear picture: The Avengers. Hope was reborn among the people. Despite the fear, they at least knew there were heroes willing to defend them.
Of course, not everyone inspired trust. Hulk, for example, was met with skepticism. No one feels comfortable next to an unstoppable force... until that force is on their side.
Captain America caused a stir. To many, he was only a legend. But a popular theory—apparently spread by Tony Stark himself—was confirmed: Steve Rogers was alive. Fury suspected Stark did it more for financial reasons—mass evacuations were tanking his stocks—than out of altruism.
Gwen Stacy, aka Ghost Spider, was well received. New York trusted her.
Thor, Natasha, and Clint didn't draw much attention. They were either new or discreet figures, though some enjoyed speculating about their abilities. In Clint's case, it was obvious.
The third image was more cryptic: the Avengers arguing while the scepter radiated energy. The conclusion was clear: they were being influenced. Laplace was warning them.
"Where are they now?" Fury asked.
"In an underground base in Manhattan. Two weeks left until May, so they've started intensive training to improve coordination."
"Perfect. I'm going to see them."
---
~ S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier – Launch Platform ~
Nick Fury walked with a determined stride down the access corridor to the hangar. Around him, agents he'd known for years gave him looks that, for the first time in a long while, unsettled him.
Too quiet.
Too alert.
Too synchronized.
His instincts screamed a single word: trap.
He quickened his pace toward the nearest Quinjet. Pretended to check his communicator, though he was really mapping an escape route. He noticed that control stations normally staffed by technicians were now manned by tactical agents, wearing dark helmets and unmarked vests.
Hydra.
Fury started to run.
Shouts erupted behind him.
"Stop him!"
Gunfire.
The sharp sound of bullets ricocheting off metal exploded in every direction. Fury reached the Quinjet hatch and dove inside just as a burst of gunfire nearly caught him. The door slammed shut, and the polarized glass withstood the initial impacts.
Sweat ran down his forehead as he activated the manual controls. The autopilot had been disabled. Internal sabotage.
"Alright, you bastards" he muttered. "You want to hunt me? I'm not that easy."
He fired up the engines.
The rotors started spinning as Hydra agents surrounded the Quinjet. From the control tower, someone tried to activate the runway lock.
Fury was ready.
He input a security code directly into the console—one no one else knew.
The central platform began to vibrate. A blue energy dome suddenly rose in the hangar. An electromagnetic pulse burst outward.
Every other jet, turret, and electronic system collapsed instantly.
Fury's Quinjet lifted off, leaving smoke and sparks in its wake. From the air, he could see agents who hadn't been neutralized in time already pulling out heavy weapons.
The sensors picked up missile locks.
"Take him down."
A voice rang out from the hangar's speakers. It wasn't human. It was an AI controlled by Hydra.
Three missiles launched toward him.
"Come on, come on..." he whispered, yanking the controls.
The Quinjet spun sharply, dodging the first by inches. The second grazed the wing, triggering structural damage alarms. The third came straight at him.
Fury gritted his teeth and deployed a heat decoy.
Boom.
The missile exploded just meters away, destabilizing the jet. Fury wrestled with the controls as he plunged toward the ocean.
He regained control mere meters above the water. Flying low, he followed a predetermined route when a red alert lit up the main panel.
Incoming explosion detected.
"What the hell..."
He turned the jet.
And then he saw it.
The Helicarrier.
The colossal structure began to tremble. From the central section, an internal explosion ripped through the upper compartments. A burst of fire, steel, and black smoke erupted in all directions.
It was splitting in two.
The side reactors began collapsing. The turbines failed one by one. From the sky, Helicarrier debris rained down toward the ocean in fiery chunks.
Fury watched in silence, his face hard.
He reached for his communicator. His voice was low, but firm:
"The Helicarrier has been destroyed. They have the Tesseract."
---
~ Underground Base in Manhattan ~
Gwen Stacy descended through the air, spinning before landing in front of Steve Rogers. They were practicing hand-to-hand combat.
"You've got potential, kid" said the Captain, "but you're lacking technique."
She smiled under the mask, pleased. She had admired Steve since she was little, influenced by her father and his sense of justice.
"Thank you, sir, for your guidance."
Steve shook his head.
"Don't get distracted in the middle of a fight. Come on."
Gwen charged, excited. She threw a punch that Steve easily blocked, twisting her with a fluid move and landing a blow to her abdomen. Gwen staggered back—but only to come at him again, more determined.
"Stop" said Steve before she could strike again.
"Close combat is useful, but it's not your style. Use everything you've got. If you don't do it here, you'll regret it out there."
Gwen understood. She fired a web at her arm. Steve pulled her toward him, but Gwen used the momentum to leap and throw a kick. This time, Steve caught her—but smiled.
"Not bad. You're improving."
Before she could launch another attack, Tony entered the room.
"Team, we've got news. The invasion has started."
"What? Wasn't it three weeks from now?"
Asked Natasha.
"Yeah, well, looks like someone moved up the schedule. I got a transmission from Fury. The Helicarrier's been destroyed. And they took the cube."
"We heading to your tower to take it back?"
Said Gwen.
Clint shook his head.
"It's not that simple. If they changed the plan, they might already know about the paintings. They could've seen this coming."
Gwen frowned.
"Still, it's our only lead. We have to go."
"I agree" added Steve. "If we wait, they'll open the portal, and things will get worse."
Banner stepped in.
"The cube's energy is still coming from Stark Tower. But..."
"But...?" Natasha pressed.
"Something changed. The energy suddenly spiked. It's not the portal... but they did something."
"Great" said Tony. "More surprises."
Then the base shook. A distant rumble.
"What was that? Wasn't Manhattan supposed to be evacuated?"
They rushed to the monitoring room. Banner activated the screens.
The image left them speechless.
All of Manhattan was filled with people.
They moved in military formation, led by figures who stood out from the crowd. They looked stronger, more imposing.
Steve recognized them immediately. Familiar faces... in the worst way.
"Those aren't aliens... are they?"
"No" Natasha replied, her face grim.
"That's Hydra."
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