C223(2)

Following the press conference, news of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s formation of the Avengers spread like wildfire, plastered across every major media outlet. The entire world was abuzz.

The headlines weren't just about Tony Stark's official announcement of his alliance with S.H.I.E.L.D.; the real shockwave came from the miraculous return of Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Seventy years after being presumed dead, Rogers had reemerged unscathed—a living legend. His incredible story, combined with his symbolic role as a hero of the people, captured the imagination of the public.

America erupted in celebration, cheering for their long-lost hero.

Meanwhile...

In his office, Alexander Pierce scrolled through the news coverage. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had predicted.

Nick Fury, Pierce's handpicked successor, had managed to turn the tide of public opinion in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s favor. 

The press was no longer focused on the controversies surrounding the organization but instead on the Avengers and Captain America.

As for the self-examination procedures authorized by the World Security Council and the impending internal cleanup of S.H.I.E.L.D., Pierce paid them no mind.

The door creaked open, and Rumlow stepped in.

"How's it going?" Pierce asked calmly, without looking up.

"We've got everything in place," Rumlow replied evenly. "The preparations are complete. We're ready to move."

Pierce's lips curled into a faint smirk. "Public opinion has shifted. The timing is perfect. Execute the plan tonight—bring them in."

He rose from his chair and walked over to the window, gazing out with a contemplative expression. "Nick is beginning to suspect me. If this drags on any longer, it'll put us at an even greater disadvantage."

"Understood," Rumlow said with a nod before exiting the office.

Pierce remained by the window, his reflection staring back at him, his face stoic yet pensive.

Nick Fury had become a liability. Tonight, Pierce would deal with him, once and for all.

By the end of the night, S.H.I.E.L.D. would be his again.

That evening...

At Nick Fury's home in a quiet Washington neighborhood, the day's events weighed heavily on him. Exhausted but relieved, Fury reflected on how things had unfolded.

So far, everything was going according to plan.

Since most people are unaware of the threat posed by Hydra, public opinion has now shifted.

The focus has moved away from S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra to the superhero team established by S.H.I.E.L.D.: the Avengers.

At the same time, the news of Iron Man joining the Avengers and Captain America, Steve Rogers, returning after being frozen for seventy years spread worldwide in an instant.

People have even begun comparing Captain America to Batman. In many ways, Captain America's prestige surpasses that of Batman. 

After all, Captain America is a legendary figure who grew up alongside this generation of Americans, whereas Batman is a recently emerged superhero who has only recently risen to fame.

Indeed, compared to Captain America, every modern-day superhero feels like a "newcomer."

Captain America's significance lies not only in his legendary history but also in his deeply national identity. As long as Steve Rogers—Captain America—stands at the forefront, his presence legitimizes any action he takes.

By placing Captain America as a leading member of the Avengers and aligning him with S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury knew the symbolism would be immeasurable. 

Captain America represented hope and integrity, his impact on public perception far exceeding even that of Batman within the Justice League.

As Nick Fury reflected on this, a shadow flickered in the corner of his eye. His sharp gaze focused as he stood up and walked over to the dining table, pretending to pour himself a glass of water.

With his other hand, he reached into a hidden compartment beneath the table, where a pistol was securely stashed.

"Hydra..." Fury muttered under his breath, immediately piecing the situation together.

The enemies surrounding his home could only be Hydra. Clearly, Fury's recent actions within S.H.I.E.L.D. had become too much of a threat. Hydra was making their move to eliminate him.

"I've been expecting you," Fury growled.

He dived behind the wall just as silenced gunfire erupted.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

The dining room was shredded by bullets, glass shattering and furniture splintering as the powerful barrage tore through the space where Fury had been moments before.

Pinned down by the relentless firepower, Fury's expression darkened. His face, already grim, seemed etched with stone.

For Hydra to attack him so brazenly—the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—there was no longer any pretense. They had torn off their mask entirely, showing their hand in the open.

Fury pressed a hidden button on his communicator, summoning the Avengers who were still in Washington.

"If they want a fight," he thought grimly, "then I'll show them what the Avengers can do."

As the house continued to shake from the assault, Fury noticed the ground beneath him trembling. His sharp instincts kicked in, and his expression shifted.

Boom!

A massive explosion erupted from beneath the house. A wave of fire and shock blasted through the entire structure, obliterating it in an instant.

The flames and force consumed everything, leaving the once-standing home in ruins. Fury's position was swallowed by the inferno, leaving no trace of him behind.

Elsewhere...

The Avengers received the alert almost simultaneously. Each checked their devices to find a red dot blinking on their screens, signaling Fury's location.

Without hesitation, they sprang into action, using their individual means of travel to rush toward the scene.

Tony Stark, encased in his Iron Man armor, was the fastest. He reached the location in mere minutes, but what he found made his heart sink.

The house had been utterly destroyed, reduced to smoldering rubble. Smoke billowed from the ruins, filling the air with an acrid scent of burning materials.

Around the perimeter of the destroyed house, heavily armed Hydra operatives were stationed, their weapons at the ready. The team of enemies, clearly still awaiting extraction, hadn't yet had time to retreat.

Tony hovered above the scene, scanning the devastation below. His jaw tightened, and his voice was cold as he muttered to himself:

"Big mistake."

Tony's expression was solemn, though not out of concern for himself. His worry was for Nick Fury, whose home had been reduced to rubble.

Analyzing the situation, Tony couldn't shake the thought that even with Fury's skill as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top-level agent—the legendary "king of spies"—his survival seemed unlikely.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Tony swiftly dealt with the remaining enemies, his armor's repulsors flaring. As the dust settled, other Avengers began arriving on the scene: Captain America, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Doctor Octopus, and Rumlow—recently codenamed "Crossbones."

The Avengers were assembled.

"How is it?" Captain America asked, his face serious.

"I don't know," Tony replied grimly, his gaze fixed on the smoldering ruins. The uncertainty of Fury's fate weighed heavily on him. "The enemy moved fast, and I can't tell if Nick is still alive."

"Damn it!" Rumlow cursed, visibly enraged. Without hesitation, he rushed into the ruins to search for Fury.

"You handle the fire. Rumlow and I will dig him out," Captain America commanded, following Rumlow into the burning wreckage.

As a super-soldier enhanced by the serum, Rogers' resilience far surpassed that of the others present, making him uniquely capable of enduring the harsh conditions.

Meanwhile, Black Widow and Hawkeye exchanged glances before moving to secure the perimeter, while Doctor Octopus began helping to extinguish the flames.

Before long, Captain America and Rumlow emerged from the ruins, carrying a severely burned and injured man. Fury's body was riddled with bullet wounds, and his breathing was faint.

"Nick..."

The team gathered around him, their expressions grim.

"He still has a heartbeat," Rogers said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "As long as there's a heartbeat, he can be saved."

"The priority now," he continued, "is to identify the mastermind behind this attack. We need to determine if Hydra sent these assassins."

As Tony scanned Fury's injuries with his suit's sensors, the injured man suddenly opened his eyes and mouth.

"Nick!"

Rogers knelt beside him, grasping Fury's hand tightly. "What is it? What do you want to say?"

Through gritted teeth, Fury rasped, his voice barely audible: "Behind the scenes… it's Batman. The one who wants me dead… is Batman!"

"What?!"

"Batman?!"

"That's impossible!"

The group erupted in disbelief.

Tony's eyes widened beneath his helmet, his shock evident in his voice. Even Black Widow, Hawkeye, and Doctor Octopus wore expressions of sheer incredulity.

Captain America furrowed his brow. While he was familiar with Batman's reputation, he knew little about the man himself and had never interacted with him. 

For Rogers, the accusation wasn't entirely implausible—but it was puzzling.

Nearby, Rumlow froze, his face registering shock. But if anyone had been paying close attention, they might have noticed something unusual.

As Nick Fury struggled to speak, his gaze briefly met Rumlow's. In that fleeting moment, a knowing look passed between them—one of mutual cunning.

New York.

Anton received a message from the military.

"What?" he muttered, his face showing a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Dead? All of them?"

The Secretary of Defense, John Keller, had delivered the shocking news: the Cobra operatives detained by the military from the New York Police Department- storm shadow , Firefly, Zartan, and even Anna and Destro—were all dead. They had been killed in military prison.

The military was outraged, scrambling to find the spy responsible. When they finally located the culprit, the spy committed suicide on the spot, shooting themselves in the head.

To be honest, if the spy hadn't killed themselves, it might have been harder for them to escape punishment so quickly.

This incident was a glaring example of how deeply Hydra had entrenched itself in the United States and across the world. Their influence was vast and far-reaching.

Anton leaned back in his chair, his frown deepening. "I don't have any intel on this, but I know one thing: Hydra's top brass is inside S.H.I.E.L.D.," he said decisively.

"Put pressure on S.H.I.E.L.D. Especially Alexander Pierce—I'm convinced he's one of Hydra's leaders. I have evidence, but it's not enough to conclusively prove he's one of the heads."

He paused, weighing his words carefully. "Come to New York immediately. I'll show you the evidence. It's concrete, but handling it is tricky. I don't want to risk anything, especially with the current situation. Look at what happened—they're all dead!"

As the conversation ended, Anton's expression darkened, his brows knitting together.

Ringing!

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. It was Eddie.

"Boss, I've got news," Eddie began. "Nick Fury—the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.—he's been attacked. He's in the hospital now, and things aren't looking good…"

Eddie hesitated, as if unsure whether to continue.

"Is that so?" Anton replied, raising an eyebrow. Though surprised, he couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. An attack on Fury felt almost inevitable given the circumstances.

"There's more," Eddie continued. "Tony Stark reached out to me directly. He said Fury managed to name the culprit before falling unconscious."

Anton straightened. "Who was it?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

Eddie hesitated before answering.

"Nick Fury said the mastermind behind it all… is Batman. He claimed the person trying to kill him is Batman."

"..."

Anton's eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable.

….

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