Rory rubbed his jaw.
It barely hurt.
Then he smiled—a relaxed, almost mocking grin.
"Steve… do you remember that quote? 'You think you're fighting for us, but you're only fighting for yourself. Who's going to avenge the civilians who died?'"
The words hit Steve like a punch to the gut. He froze.
"Superheroes create chaos," Rory continued. "Then they clean it up. And in the end? They bask in the applause, the glory, the admiration. But what about the ordinary people? What do they get? Fear. Panic. Lost homes. Lost loved ones. Isn't that just the biggest irony?"
Steve clenched his fists.
"There's always sacrifice in war. What we can do is help as many as we can."
"Oh really?" Rory laughed bitterly. "So I'm one of those who's meant to be sacrificed? You're such a hypocrite, Steve."
Steve said nothing.
Rory shook his head slowly.
"Let me spell it out for you—I've done nothing wrong. I've conducted research, not committed crimes. And yet you've already judged me. Harassed me. Interrupted my work for no reason."
"You have no idea how much effort I've poured into this. If I do become the villain, Steve Rogers, you'll be one of the reasons why."
Maybe Steve truly believed he stood for justice. Rory wasn't sure.
But he knew one thing for certain—arguing wouldn't change anything.
This wasn't about persuading Steve. This was about venting.
Steve stepped forward.
"There's no point in arguing now. You got what you wanted. All I can do is help make sure you use it the right way."
"Pfft." Rory let out a sarcastic snort. "Who the hell do you think you are? Just because people call you 'Captain' you think you're the embodiment of justice?"
"Come with me, Rory. It's the right thing to do—for both of us. I don't want to fight you."
Steve's voice was, as always, firm and full of righteous conviction.
Rory grinned.
"Well I want to."
Though the experiment had been cut short, the serum had worked.
Rory now stood half a head taller than Steve, his muscles tightly coiled with raw power—not bulky, but dense, potent.
And he was eager to test his limits.
Whoosh!
Rory struck first, fast as lightning.
Steve, to his credit, reacted just in time—barely dodging the punch and countering with a sharp hook toward Rory's ribs.
Smack!
Rory blocked it with ease.
Despite never having trained in combat, Rory moved with instinct—reflexes not his own.
This wasn't his fighting style.
It was Thanos's.
Steve's eyes narrowed. He didn't expect Rory to adapt so quickly.
Three punches and a kick later—all dodged or blocked—he was starting to realize:
Rory wasn't just enhanced.
He was dangerous.
Stronger, faster, and guided by the subconscious instincts of a warlord.
And yet… Steve was holding his own.
Somehow.
Captain America: Plot Armor Edition.
Rory was just getting warmed up. The more they fought, the more fluid and natural it felt. He could almost enjoy this.
Steve, on the other hand, was growing more anxious.
He could see Rory's growth in real time.
It was like fighting Thanos, one-on-one—again.
"Rory!" he shouted mid-fight. "Where did you get the serum?! Was it from Thanos?!"
"What do you think?" Rory grinned.
With Thanos's battle instincts coursing through him, Rory danced around Steve's punches like a ghost, each counter swifter and heavier.
Boom! Crash!
Without his shield, Steve was at least 30% weaker. His fists alone couldn't do much.
The truth was becoming clear:
That shield didn't just block attacks.
It made him equal.
Rory was holding nothing back now—his punches echoed through the factory like gunshots.
CRACK!
One punch landed clean on Steve's jaw, sending him flying.
A crimson line of blood streaked from his mouth and nose.
Rory didn't chase him. He stood still, flexing his fist, and said:
"You know, Steve—I used to want to be like you. A hero. But after spending time with you… I think I'm better off without the cape."
Steve wiped the blood from his lip and forced himself to his feet.
"I could fight you all day."
Ah yes.
The line.
Every time he said that, it was like a magic spell. Something always turned the tide.
And sure enough—
Bang!
A bullet slammed into the ground near Rory's feet.
Peggy Carter stood across the room, gun raised.
"Don't move," she warned. "Next one goes through your skull."
If he'd been Thanos, even a missile wouldn't faze him.
But Rory?
He was still far from that level.
If Thanos was a luxury mansion—1000 square meters, fully loaded—then Rory was… maybe a 45-square-meter studio. Barebones.
Same function. Vastly different performance.
He didn't know if he could survive a headshot.
"Peggy!" Steve shouted. "Don't let him escape!"
Steve knew he couldn't take Rory alone—not without his shield. He needed backup.
SSR agents poured into the lab, circling Rory slowly under Peggy's orders.
Rory sneered, then turned to Steve.
"You self-righteous fossil. Always preaching about 'freedom' and 'justice.' You wake up from your ice cube acting like you're humanity's moral high ground."
"You're a five-star, terminal-stage savior complex patient."
"And I hope you remember everything that happened today. Because you'll be responsible for what comes next."
Justice on the lips, hypocrisy in action.
They shouted for freedom—while trying to take his away.
Steve's face darkened, like a sewer that hadn't been cleaned in fifty years.
Before he could answer, Rory bolted.
Faster than any of them expected—like a supercar on launch mode.
As he ran, he slapped a switch on the table.
BOOM!
Rory blasted a hole through the wall and dove headfirst into the Hudson River.
By the time Steve reached the water, Rory had vanished.
"Call the Coast Guard," Peggy barked into her radio. "Search every stretch of the river. And notify NYPD. I want Rory declared citywide most wanted."
Orders given, she turned to Steve, who stood frozen, staring into the waves.
"Steve… you wanna tell me what exactly he is?"
Before he could answer—
KRA-BOOM!
The lab behind them exploded.
A mushroom cloud of fire and smoke billowed into the night sky.
Steve turned and gazed at the burning remains.
"He destroyed the data. Smart move."
"We'll search the rubble," Peggy said quickly. "Maybe we'll find something useful."
But they wouldn't.
The fire consumed everything.
The samples.
The formulas.
The secrets.
The lab was gone.
And so was Rory.
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200 P.S = 1 Extra Chapter