Just as the chaos on the battlefield reached its boiling point…
Inside a high-security meeting chamber aboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, Director Nick Fury stood stiffly before a wall of massive monitors.
Across the screens, the familiar and detested faces of the World Security Council flickered into view.
They were the overseers of S.H.I.E.L.D., the ones holding leashes and pulling strings from behind the curtain. And once again, they had summoned him.
The tension in the room was thick as lead.
Fury kept his expression unreadable, but the knot tightening in his jaw betrayed him.
Their last meeting ended in open defiance, Fury had chosen to assemble the Avengers against the Council's directives. He'd staked his reputation on it.
But now… his "emergency team" hadn't tipped the scales.
Not decisively.
Not compared to that green-skinned monster leading a deathless horde and tearing through the Chitauri like paper.
Fury had to admit, it was humiliating.
Still, he was motherfucking Nick Fury.
And if there was one thing he was better at than spycraft, it was recovering his composure faster than anyone could weaponize it.
But the words that came from the Council's mouths shattered that composure instantly.
"Director Fury, it's been decided: we're deploying a nuclear strike. The target is the epicenter of the invasion, New York City."
Fury's one good eye flared with disbelief.
He leaned forward. "What did you just say?"
"We're dropping a nuke," the lead councilman repeated, calm as ever. "Before the situation spirals further. The city must be cleansed."
Fury slammed his fist on the table. "Are you out of your damn minds?!"
"Director…"
"That's New York! Millions of lives, innocent civilians! Families! We still have control on the ground! The Avengers are…!"
"I repeat, Director Fury, we are just informing you, this has already been decided."
Another voice chimed in, colder still.
"Two alien forces are now battling over Manhattan. Whether one wins or both, Earth loses. We eliminate them now, or we lose our chance forever."
Fury's voice dropped low, frosty, he wished for nothing more than to strangle these self-righteous fuckers.
"I will not give the order to nuke my own people. Not while there's still a chance to stop this without mass murder."
"You don't have to," said the councilman. "Your Helicarrier carries the payload. We'll do it ourselves."
Fury glared at the screens, disgusted.
"You people don't want to save the world. You just want to make sure you're the last ones standing."
He pressed a button on the console and cut the connection mid-sentence.
The screens all went black.
But the silence was short-lived.
Less than two minutes later, Fury's earpiece crackled.
"Sir, we've got an unauthorized Quinjet departing from Bay 17. It's carrying a tactical nuke."
Fury didn't wait.
He sprinted down the corridor, barking into his comms. "Scramble intercept. Take that plane down!"
A pulse of adrenaline fueled him as he ran toward the launch deck.
They managed to shoot down the first.
But the second jet slipped past.
Fury's fists clenched.
There was no stopping it now.
Only redirecting it.
He slammed the comms open again, contacting the only one he felt could do something right now.
…
On the streets below, Tony Stark was about to crack a joke when the call came in.
Fury's voice cut through the air like a scalpel.
"Stark, a plane is en route with a nuclear payload. It's headed for Manhattan."
Tony's body tensed.
For a heartbeat, he didn't speak.
Then: "Say that again, Fury?"
"It's not a bluff. They're nuking the city. You have less than five minutes."
"Mother of…!" Tony didn't even finish the curse.
He shot back into the sky like a bullet, jets roaring at full thrust.
As he flew, he activated the team channel.
"Everyone, listen up. We've got a real problem. There's a nuke incoming."
The airwaves instantly exploded.
"A what?!" Steve barked.
"You mean a real nuke?!" Natasha shouted.
"Where is it? Can we stop it?!" Bruce's voice was panicked.
Only one voice remained clueless.
From nearby, Thor furrowed his brow and asked with confusion:
"...What is a nuke?"
…
Meanwhile, far above the city…
Inside a rumbling military transport, General Ross sat silently in front of a screen.
The image showed the battlefield below, where his precious super soldiers, now grotesquely mutated by fel energy, were tearing through alien ranks with terrifying strength.
But they no longer obeyed him.
And that made the sight bittersweet.
Ross scowled. "What happened to them? They were supposed to follow me. Not that freak with the staff."
He had sacrificed so much to create those soldiers. So many had died during the trials. More than two hundred elite soldiers had perished to produce just fifty successes.
And now, those fifty successes weren't even his anymore.
His future, his only chance for a comeback, was crumbling right in front of his eyes.
That was when the call came in.
The adjutant's face went pale as he pressed the phone to his ear.
He turned to Ross with dread.
"General... we've got a situation. A nuclear missile is headed for Manhattan. Expected to arrive in five minutes."
For a second, Ross just blinked at him.
Then his face turned ashen. "...A what?"
The adjutant nodded grimly.
Ross stood up so fast his chair toppled over. "You've got to be kidding me. Who gave that order?!"
"Already checked, it wasn't the military. It came from the World Security Council."
Ross stared.
He suddenly felt ten years older.
The weight of it hit him like a truck.
A nuke. His super soldiers, all of them will be gone in an instant.
The only real asset he had left, reduced to radioactive dust.
His jaw clenched. "No. No, they can't do this! Call them! Make them call it off!"
"I'm sorry, sir. We don't have the authority."
Ross collapsed back into his seat, hand shaking as he wiped sweat from his brow.
"They're just... going to destroy everything."
His mouth twisted into a grimace of helpless rage.
And suddenly, his sorrow turned to blame.
His eyes burned with fury.
"This is his fault. All of it."
He slammed his fist down on the console screen.
"Luke Yale. That damn kid and his freak dog. They destroyed my base, ruined everything. If not for them, if not for that disaster, this never would've happened!"
The plane hit turbulence, but Ross didn't seem to notice.
He was shaking with rage.
He leaned forward, spitting every word like a vow:
"I don't care how, I don't care when... but one day, I will kill you, Luke Yale. You hear me?! I'll wipe you off the face of this planet!"
Back in the grocery store, Luke blinked in surprise.
Suddenly, a soft ding echoed in his mind.
…