As the Helicarrier ascended into the sky, the deck quickly became uninhabitable. One by one, everyone moved into the command bridge.
At the center of it all stood Maria Hill, directing operations with cold precision.
Despite Nick Fury's death, the situation hadn't spiraled into chaos. Under her command, every agent carried out their duties in perfect order, each task flowing seamlessly into the next.
"Dr. Banner."
Hill gave a brief nod to the slightly disheveled, world-weary man.
"Director Fury held you in extremely high regard. And as the leading expert on gamma radiation, if there's anyone who can track the Tesseract, it's you."
She turned slightly.
"Natasha, take Dr. Banner to his lab."
Hill's leadership style was markedly different from Fury's.
Fury excelled at winning people over—building bonds, weaving connections, pulling individuals into his orbit through trust and subtle manipulation.
Natasha, Tony, even Hill and Hawkeye… all had been drawn in that way.
But Hill?
She didn't believe in that approach.
Despite being a woman, she relied far more on logic than emotion. To her, results mattered more than relationships.
"Uh… alright."
Banner scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Hill's commanding presence made him slightly uneasy, and in the end, he simply nodded and followed Natasha.
Hill's gaze then swept briefly over Steve Rogers.
She didn't say a word.
From her perspective, Steve was a soldier—an excellent one.
And soldiers didn't need persuasion.
They needed orders.
In fact, her view of the Avengers was just as straightforward.
Where Fury had envisioned them as a last-resort miracle… a team of heroes meant to save the world—
Hill saw them as something else entirely.
A specialized strike team.
Highly unusual.
Highly dangerous.
But ultimately… still soldiers.
"Commander, the World Security Council is online."
An agent stepped forward, reporting promptly.
After such a massive incident, it was impossible for the Council—the equivalent of a global board of directors—to remain silent.
Hill had delayed reporting while stabilizing the situation.
Now… it was time.
Without a word, she turned and walked toward the conference interface.
But just as she moved—
"I'll come with you."
Peter stood up casually from where he had been observing everything.
"Perfect timing. I've got a few things I'd like to say to them too."
Dressed in relaxed, informal clothes, he looked completely out of place in the tense, high-pressure environment of the command bridge.
And yet—
No one dared question him.
After all, they had all witnessed it.
The effortless way he had killed Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight.
The way Loki had fled without even daring to fight.
Strength like that commanded respect.
Hill frowned slightly at his words, but she didn't refuse.
Because she knew—
Refusing him wouldn't mean anything.
The "conference room" wasn't a room at all.
With the press of a button, a translucent barrier rose, isolating Peter and Hill from the rest of the bridge.
Moments later, a holographic projection flickered to life before them.
Six figures appeared.
"Commander Hill. Consultant Parker."
The first to speak stood at the edge of the projection.
He wasn't a representative of any nation.
He was the Secretary of Security—
Alexander Pierce.
Nick Fury's direct superior.
"Mr. Pierce," Peter greeted casually, hands in his pockets. "Not having a great day, I take it?"
This man… was also his partner.
Peter's entry into S.H.I.E.L.D. had been facilitated by Pierce.
The agreements between S.H.I.E.L.D. and Umbrella had been signed under his authority.
If there was anyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. who could override Fury—
It was him.
"Not particularly," Pierce replied coldly. "My best friend is dead, Mr. Parker."
A subtle warning.
Then his gaze shifted to Hill, his tone growing heavier.
"How bad is it? The reports only mentioned extraterrestrials… and Asgardians."
Even HYDRA—
Hidden within S.H.I.E.L.D.—wouldn't want to become prey to alien invaders.
Pierce had spent his entire life building S.H.I.E.L.D., nurturing it, shaping it.
It was on the verge of becoming something greater—something entirely his.
If an alien force swooped in and took everything…
That would be a loss he couldn't accept.
"Very bad," Hill replied without hesitation.
"The Tesseract has been taken. And the attackers themselves arrived using its power."
Her eyes hardened.
"I have every reason to believe they can use it again—to summon reinforcements. Possibly even an entire alien fleet."
Even without Thor's warning, the appearance of Corvus Glaive and Proxima Midnight had already pointed her toward the worst-case scenario.
But before she could continue—
One of the council representatives spoke up.
"Is… negotiation an option?"
The question hung in the air.
"Do we know what they want? If they intend to invade Earth, there must be a reason. Perhaps we can reach an understanding."
Peter glanced sideways.
Ah.
A French representative.
That explained everything.
After all—
You could never defeat the French faster than they could surrender.
Hill's expression turned ice-cold.
"Their reason is conquest."
Her voice cut through the room like a blade.
"I've encountered them. Every word out of their mouths was about subjugation—about humanity kneeling."
She took a step forward.
"If you're willing to become someone else's slave, then by all means—go ahead."
Her eyes burned with resolve.
"But as the acting commander of S.H.I.E.L.D.…"
"I will not surrender without a fight."
Not after everything.
Not after the destruction.
Not after—
Nick Fury's death.
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T/N:
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