Tony leaned against the car, hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky fragmented by the oak branches overhead.
He did not speak, and that habitual, nonchalant expression he wore toward everything had vanished at some point, replaced by a rare quietness.
Thor squatted by the garden fence, showing a keen interest in the rose bushes.
Mavuika stood by the car, quietly watching that door.
Sunlight shone on him, his long golden-red hair shimmering with a warm luster.
Banner poked his head out of the car, holding a bottle of water in his hand.
"They... how much longer will they be talking?"
Tony shrugged: "Who knows? They haven't seen each other in seventy years; if it were me, I'd talk for a whole day too."
Banner was silent for a moment and said softly: "Seventy years... I feel like seven months is a long time not to see someone."
No one replied.
The only sounds in the air were the wind and the crashing waves from afar.
This small town on the North Shore of Long Island was so quiet it didn't feel like a part of New York.
There was no hustle and bustle of Manhattan, no crowding of Brooklyn, only small houses scattered among the woods, neatly trimmed lawns, and cars passing by occasionally, moving as slowly as a stroll.
Howard probably chose this place for Bucky back then because he valued this tranquility.
A person who had been tortured by HYDRA for decades didn't need prosperity; he needed peace.
Time passed slowly.
The Sun moved from overhead to the west, stretching the shadows of the trees.
Tony went to a nearby convenience store, bought some water and sandwiches, and distributed them to everyone.
Thor ate three in one go and licked his fingers, still wanting more.
The door finally opened.
It was already evening, and the sunset had dyed the horizon a golden red.
Steve walked out of the house, his eyes a bit red, but his lips carried an expression never seen on his face before—it was the relief of laying down a heavy burden, the cherishing of something lost and found.
Bucky followed behind him, wearing a faded blue sweater, looking much more relaxed than he had at the door just a moment ago.
His hair was a bit messy, but in those grey-blue eyes, there was a light that had been dormant for decades and was finally reignited.
The two stood at the doorway and exchanged a glance.
Steve gently patted Bucky on the shoulder, and Bucky nodded.
Then they walked toward the car together.
Fury got out of the other car—he had been waiting in the car the whole time, not wanting to disturb that reunion which was seventy years overdue.
He walked up to Steve and Bucky; there was no expression on his dark face, but in that single eye, there was something rare, almost gentle.
"Finished talking?" he asked.
Steve nodded. "Finished talking."
Fury was silent for a second.
Then he spoke, his voice not as deep and hurried as usual, but instead carrying a measured, slow rhythm.
"Steve, Bucky, there is something I want to talk to you about."
Steve looked at him.
Fury's gaze shifted from Steve to Bucky, then to Banner, and finally swept over Tony and the Mavuika siblings.
"Actually, it concerns everyone present."
Tony raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Here we go again?"
Fury ignored his teasing and continued: "You all know that this World is becoming more dangerous. Alien threats, superpowered crimes, various disasters we cannot predict—the power of S.H.I.E.L.D. is limited, and we need help."
He paused.
"I have a plan, called the 'Avengers Initiative', to gather some people with special abilities to face threats that cannot be solved by individual power alone when the need arises."
He looked at Steve: "Captain, you are a hero of World War II; you know better than anyone that there are some battles that cannot be won alone."
Steve was silent.
Fury looked at Bucky again: "Bucky, your experience is more complex than anyone's, but you survived. You have the ability, the experience, and this World needs people like you."
Bucky didn't answer immediately; he just glanced at Steve.
Fury turned to Banner, his tone becoming more sincere.
"Dr. Banner, I know about your relationship with the Military, and I know you have concerns about official organizations, but I assure you, the Avengers is not a prison, not a laboratory, and not a tool to turn you into a weapon."
He paused.
"We need your mind and your strength, but all of this is based on your own will."
Banner was silent for a long time.
Fury finally looked at Tony and Mavuika.
"Tony, Your Highness Mavuika, Prince Thor, His Highness Loki—I know you might not be interested, but I still want to formally invite you. The conditions are very loose: the Avengers will not restrict the freedom of its members; we will only step in to solve problems when necessary. Usually, you can do whatever you want and go wherever you want."
He rarely lowered his posture; there was no airs of a S.H.I.E.L.D. Director in his tone, only something sincere, even carrying a hint of pleading.
"I know you don't need S.H.I.E.L.D., nor do you need the Avengers, but this World needs you."
Silence.
Thor scratched his head and looked at Mavuika.
Loki leaned against the car door, a faint, ambiguous smile on his lips, saying nothing.
Tony was the first to speak.
"Director Fury," he said, his tone carrying that habitual, instinctive rejection of any "organization", "I have received your sincerity. But—"
He spread his hands.
"I am Iron Man; I can handle most trouble on my own. For the ones I can't, I can figure out a way. So, thank you for the invitation, but I am not interested."
Fury nodded, not trying to persuade him.
He had known all along that Tony would have this reaction.
Mavuika spoke, his voice calm.
"Director Fury, we siblings are Asgardian. We will not join any organization on Earth. This is not about sincerity; it is a matter of stance."
Fury nodded: "Alright, I understand."
Thor grinned and spread his hands to show he couldn't help, while Loki bowed slightly, his posture elegant but his refusal clear.
Fury was not disappointed—he had never expected these "gods" to agree.
His focus had always been on Steve, Bucky, and Banner.
Steve stood there, silent for a long time.
He looked at Fury, and in those blue eyes was something complex that had traversed seventy years of time.
"Director Fury," he finally spoke, his voice deep and steady.
"When I woke up, I saw a completely strange World. My friends were all old, or dead; everything I was familiar with was gone."
He paused.
"I thought I would just keep drifting like this, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do."
He looked at Fury.
"But you gave me a direction. Bucky is still alive; that is a direction. This World needs protection; that is also a direction."
He took a deep breath.
"I join."
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