Tony dropped back onto a broken chunk of concrete beside me, exhaling hard.
"Have you guys ever tried shawarma?"
Steve frowned slightly. "What?"
"There's a shawarma place about two blocks from here," Tony said, catching his breath. "I don't know what it is. I just… want to try it."
.....
We found it.
The front window was blown out. Dust coated the booths and the tiled floor. The owner swept glass into a pan behind the counter, barely reacting to the group that walked in.
He served us anyway.
We sat around a small table in the middle of the wrecked shop.
No one spoke.
The adrenaline had burned off, leaving behind just the exhaustion.
Thor stared at his food like he wasn't sure what to do with it.
Bruce chewed slowly, shoulders slumped.
Natasha leaned against her hand, eyes distant.
Clint sat still, watching nothing in particular.
I looked down at myself. My suit was gone. My shirt was torn, stained with dried blood. The hollow feeling in my chest hadn't faded.
I took a bite.
It tasted… fine. A little gritty from the dust in the air.
For a moment, I just sat there.
I had spent years watching this world from a distance. Treating it like a story I already knew.
That distance was gone.
I had fought beside them. Bled with them.
Nearly died with them.
....
Central Park was quiet.
Morning light reflected off the fountain at Bethesda Terrace.
Loki stood restrained in the center of the plaza, bound in Asgardian shackles, a muzzle locked over his mouth. The god of mischief looked smaller now and tamed.
Bruce stepped forward with a secure case. He opened it, revealing the Tesseract inside its containment unit.
Thor took it carefully.
For a moment, he looked at the group, then at me.
He gave a slow nod.
I returned it.
He passed one side of the device to Loki. The mechanism activated. A column of blue light engulfed them both.
They vanished.
The team began to disperse.
Steve gave a short nod before heading toward his bike.
Natasha and Clint moved toward a waiting SHIELD vehicle.
Bruce joined Tony near his car.
I turned toward the street.
My Rolls-Royce waited at the curb.
Natalie stood by the open door.
Before getting into his car, Tony paused. He glanced across the plaza at me.
No words.
He knew.
He gave a small nod.
I stepped into the car. Natalie closed the door behind me, sealing out the noise of the city.
High above, Nick Fury stood on the terrace, hands clasped behind his back.
The World Security Council wanted answers. Their launch order had vanished without explanation.
Fury already had a suspect.
He watched the remaining heroes leave the park one by one.
Stark would rebuild.
Rogers would lead.
The world would remember them.
His gaze shifted to the black Rolls-Royce as it pulled into traffic.
Adrian had already disappeared.
Fury said nothing.
He just watched the car until it was gone.