Steve Rogers and Thor stepped inside.
"We're here to check progress," Steve said. "If we find the Cube first, we don't need to waste time worrying about Loki's next move."
Given what they knew, it was the only logical solution the two could think of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There were a lot of people in the lab, and when Natasha Romanoff came back in, she became the fuse of escalation.
"Dr. Banner," she began carefully, "would you mind changing places?"
Banner froze. His expression bewildered.
"What do you mean? I'm fine here. Why do you want me to move? Unless you've got another cage waiting to trap me?"
His tone was deep—resentful. Anyone would be, after hearing Fury mention the containment cell earlier while talking to Loki. A cage built for him, for the monster inside him.
And James knew exactly what Banner was reacting to. He felt for a moment the scepter's aura, then immediately asked:
'Cortana, did the energy from the scepter get fully absorbed? Or did some of it get loose?'
[Negative. All emitted energy and radiation are currently being absorbed by you. Containment is complete.]
"Does none of this affect my emotions?"
[No. Your emotional state is under equilibrium. Anything attempting to influence your neural pathways must pass through me first. This is our territory.]
James let out a silent breath of relief. Banner's growing anger wasn't the scepter's doing—it was fully his own.
That, ironically, made it worse.
He considered stepping in to stop the escalation… but then reconsidered.
Sometimes pressure had to vent before it exploded. And with Athena guarding the Helicarrier's systems, and Cortana buffering the scepter's output, there was room to let tempers clash.
He would intervene only if things truly went sideways.
Natasha tried to clarify. "That's not what I meant. Loki came here deliberately. To be close to you. We don't know what methods he might use. But in our conversation earlier… he used the word 'mindless'—"
Banner's voice snapped like a wire. "Beast, right? That's how you describe me? I look like some walking disaster waiting to happen? A dangerous mindless beast?!"
Tony Stark stepped forward, arms out, voice raised. "Oh, please. Before calling someone else dangerous, take a look at this." He pointed at the monitor. "What do you think the second stage of the tesseract refers to? It's a weapon—mass destruction level. That's why you didn't recruit me. Because I wouldn't build one. Or maybe you're scared I'd find out?"
Banner added fuel instantly. "We just want to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is making weapons of mass destruction."
Nick Fury shook his head. "The reason is simple. Because of him."
He pointed straight at Thor, who looked genuinely confused.
"Me? Why are you speaking of me?"
Fury's tone deepened. "Last year, an alien arrived on Earth. A personal conflict of his flattened a small town. That confirmed what we already feared—the universe has beings far stronger than us."
Thor squared his shoulders. "Our people mean no harm to your planet."
"We know that now," Fury said. "But you aren't the only ones out there. And Earth isn't the only target. Some powers on this planet don't have a rival—and they're vulnerable to influence."
Steve Rogers fired back, voice edged with old anger. "Like controlling the Tesseract? You kept it hidden for seventy years. I froze in the ice for it, and now it's causing chaos again."
Thor countered immediately. "It is your research on the Tesseract that drew Loki and the Chitauri. To the other realms, your experiments signal one thing: Earth preparing for advanced war."
"Advanced war?" Fury said, voice firm. "We were forced to respond."
His conviction was obvious. The Earth needed protection. He believed that.
But Tony Stark cut in sharply. "Oh? Like nuclear deterrence? That calms everyone down."
Fury turned toward him, his one single eye dead cold. "Don't forget how you made your fortune, Mr. Stark."
That struck deep. The air thickened. Sarcasm began ricocheting across the lab—mockery layered under anger, under fear, under pride. Everyone threw their pieces into the fire. The voices rose, overlapping.
James watched all of them, brows knitting. 'Were they really not affected?'
He asked sharply inside his mind: 'Cortana, are they truly unaffected? Their emotions are all over the place. This isn't how they normally act.'
[This is normal. Humans are self-centered by default. You included. Especially individuals of extraordinary capability—they resist vulnerability by projecting certainty.]
James frowned. "I don't think I'm like that."
[I live inside your mind, James. I know your subconscious patterns. You treat your experience like a strategic game—seeking stronger conditions and optimal outcomes.]
James paused mid-breath.
"Are you sure I'm treating this like a game?"
[Yes.]
Silence crashed through his thoughts.
If that were true… if he viewed all of this like a simulation, a world to be optimized… then something in him was dangerously misaligned. He had a father, a mother. a sister, friends and allies, and a home forming around him.
Was he truly acting like a player seeking progression?
He felt an uneasy twist in his chest.
While he wrestled with that thought, the real threat arrived unnoticed.
High above, a Quinjet—borrowed by Hawkeye from John Garrett—was being scanned by Athena's security systems. A perfect S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ identification code, flight path authentic… but its trajectory? Wrong. Very wrong.
Hawkeye had plotted the approach in advance: a vent access point, lined up perfectly with an internal passage for infiltration.
The Quinjet's rear ramp was already open.
Hawkeye stood at the edge, bow in hand, arrow drawn.
Athena's modified military-grade protocols flickered awake.
The Helicarrier was far too big a target to leave any blind spots; James had ensured that himself during the Athena Integration Project.
Instead of letting the Quinjet glide to the scheduled platform, Athena forced a trajectory warning.
Her voice erupted through the command deck and into the lab:
{Warning. Quinjet transport aircraft X123456 is deviating from its designated landing zone. Redirect immediately or be classified as hostile.}
Simultaneously, the Helicarrier's air-defense system activated, rows of automated cannons rotating like steel fury searching for prey.
A high-pitched alarm screamed through the lab.
James snapped out of his thoughts, adrenaline slamming back into his veins.
"Athena, report!"
{"A Quinjet bearing headquarters credentials is on a transport assignment,"} Athena replied, calm but rapid. {"However, it is not landing in the designated zone. It is veering toward the rear flight deck."}
Cold sweat ran down James's spine.
He had been careless.