The air in the lab had frozen solid.
On the holographic projection, icy blue data streams and horrifying weapon schematics stabbed into the eyes of everyone present like jagged needles.
The Tesseract—SHIELD's most sacred relic, classified as top-secret and protected at all costs—was reduced in these files to nothing more than an infinite energy "magazine," powering weapons capable of leveling entire cities.
"Project Phase Two…"
Steve Rogers' voice was low, trembling with disbelief. His eyes locked onto the screen, then slowly lifted, pinning Nick Fury in place with a glare. "What is this?"
Fury's face darkened, his fury aimed not at Steve, but at the eerily calm teenager sitting in the corner.
"How did you get these?"
"Does it matter?" Tony Stark stepped out from behind the equipment, arms crossed, his smirk dripping with contempt. "I thought 'Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division' was a mouthful, but your plans are even worse. Let's dumb it down: you wanted to turn alien artifacts into guns, screwed up, and ended up inviting Loki here. Right?"
His words sliced through Fury's last scraps of dignity like a scalpel.
"We were preparing for unforeseen threats!" Fury's voice rose sharply in defense. "Last year, your 'friend' fell out of the sky and wiped out half a town! What were we supposed to do? Smile and ask nicely?"
"So your solution was to copy his tech?" Bruce Banner adjusted his glasses, his breathing quickening. Behind the lenses, his eyes gleamed with something dangerous. "Fight nukes with nukes. Real genius. Did Loki even need to try opening a portal, or did you guys just keep poking the Cube and screaming 'we're weak but we've got toys, come and take it' to the entire universe?"
Banner's anger was unmistakable. His finger trembled as he pointed at the screen.
Everyone in the room knew what that meant.
"Dr. Banner. Calm down." Natasha's hand instinctively hovered near her weapon.
Tony, however, subtly shifted forward, positioning himself between Banner and Natasha. His tone softened, though his gaze never left Fury.
"Easy, big guy. The Director's just following orders, right? Somebody's gotta clean up the mess. Though… I gotta wonder—who gave the order? The World Security Council? Or was this your own… 'vision'?"
Fury's eye narrowed like a cornered beast.
He hadn't expected his carefully guarded trump card—so easily flipped open by a fourteen-year-old. And he certainly hadn't expected the very "heroes" he'd painstakingly assembled to instantly turn on him.
Trust? It never existed.
"You have no idea what you're dealing with!" Fury roared.
"We don't?" Steve's quiet voice cut through Fury's fury. He took a step forward, each one like a hammer on Fury's nerves. "I do. I know SHIELD was founded to protect the world, not replace one threat with something even worse. You lied to bring us here, Fury. What else are you hiding?"
Captain America's question sucked the air from the room.
Fury's mouth snapped shut.
He could brush off Tony's sarcasm, crush Banner's rage—but he couldn't answer Steve Rogers.
Because the question struck too deep.
And then, Paul—silent all this time—finally moved.
A tap of his fingers on the virtual keyboard, and the screen shifted again.
No more weapon blueprints.
Steve's pupils shrank at the new image:
A grotesque red skull, writhing tentacles coiled beneath it.
HYDRA.
"Post-war, SHIELD recovered a lot of HYDRA tech… and personnel."
Paul's quiet words landed like a sledgehammer.
"Project Phase Two didn't just borrow HYDRA's weapon designs. Some of the lead scientists? Former HYDRA. Arnim Zola—ring a bell, Captain?"
Steve swayed as if struck.
That name—a bolt from the past—split open long-buried memories.
The evil he'd fought his entire life, the enemy he'd thought dead… had festered inside the very organization he'd sworn to serve?
This wasn't just betrayal.
It was desecration.
"Bullshit!" A SHIELD agent spat.
Paul ignored him, staring straight at Fury.
"So, Director. Did you not know… or did you just not want to know?"
With that, the last fragile threads of trust between SHIELD and the Avengers snapped.
Fury's face went deathly still.
He'd lost.
His authority, his secrets, his control—shattered by a fourteen-year-old in one effortless stroke.
Steve didn't speak.
He cast one last look at Fury, then at the HYDRA sigil burning on the screen—before turning and striding out of the lab without a word.
His silence screamed disappointment.
"Captain!" Natasha called—but he didn't stop.
The lab plunged into silence.
Tony watched Steve leave, flicked a glance at Fury's ashen face, then settled on Paul.
This kid. Every time things couldn't get worse… he dropped another bomb.
Tony moved to Paul's side, voice low.
"What else do you know?"
Paul shook his head, shutting off the holo-display.
"Enough. The rest… he needs to see for himself."
———
The Helicarrier. Classified Weapons Vault.
Steve Rogers kicked the door open.
He moved like a storm through the crates—each one marked with hazards from across the globe. Each capable of starting wars.
His gaze skipped past the STARK INDUSTRIES labels—locking onto a dim corner.
Oddly shaped rifles sat, half-forgotten.
He knew these.
Seized them a hundred times from HYDRA soldiers during the war.
Steve grabbed one.
Cold metal. Faint energy still humming in its core.
Fury hadn't destroyed them.
He'd preserved them. Reproduced them.
Paul was right.
All of it.
Steve's grip turned white-knuckled. The rifle creaked in his hands.
Betrayal burned through him.
He spun and ran.
———
BANG!
The lab door slammed open.
Every head whipped toward Steve—backlit in the doorway, his silhouette rigid with fury.
He hurled the HYDRA rifle onto the central console with a CRACK.
"Explain!"
His voice was glacier-sharp.
Fury's eye flicked to the gun—then widened.
Tony and Banner exchanged glances.
And in that exact second—
BOOOOM!
A deafening blast shook the Helicarrier.
The entire ship lurched—tilting violently as alarms SCREECHED to life.
Red emergency lights strobed, painting every shocked face in bloody light.
"Report!" Hill's voice crackled over the chaos. "Engine Three's hit! We're going down!"
Trust had imploded.
Now—the real attack began.
Loki's game had just entered its final act.