He glanced at the others, then leaned close enough for Tony alone to hear him:
"My mistake is the biggest one here."
His eyes hardened.
"I can't say it outright, but I misjudged and underestimated too many people. Otherwise… things wouldn't have reached this point."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Is there anything you can't say?"
Steve Rogers' voice cut through the command deck—steady, unhappy, and far too earnest for the tension gathering in the Helicarrier's war room.
James looked at him, the glow from the screens reflecting off Steve's newly acquired combat uniform. Captain America stood with the same rigid posture he'd carried since the 1940s—shoulders squared and an aura of seriousness, the kind of moral presence that made everyone else in the room feel like they were hiding something.
James exhaled slowly.
Old time Americans. They always wanted full disclosure the moment they felt excluded. Especially people like Steve—those who carried the trauma of war inside their bones.
"If you don't tell them everything," James thought, "they treat it like betrayal or mistrust."
He'd seen it in movies, in military debriefs, in the way American culture framed secrets as sins. In their stories, a hero without full transparency was automatically suspected.
James was American, but not at heart. He understood the value of secrets—how some truths had weight, timing, and consequences.
But the room was waiting.
"I'll tell you," James said finally. "But not now."
His tone dropped cold, meant to redirect them.
"Right now, we need to fight."
He looked at every face at the table—the growing fractures in morale, the desperation hidden under bravado. Natasha Romanoff sat with her arms folded, brows narrowed. Bruce Banner kept his gaze low, his hands clasped tightly as if trying to hold himself together. Thor paced quietly near the edge of the room, Mjolnir tapping rhythmically against his palm.
Tony Stark leaned against a console, uncharacteristically quiet.
James continued.
"Phil Coulson's sacrifice…" He allowed himself a breath. "…surprised me. But it also shows us the truth. This is war. And war has sacrifices."
The silence that followed was heavy.
Tony finally broke it with a humorless scoff.
"Phil was too soft," Tony said. "He didn't even look like an agent on most days. Probably chose the wrong career. But he did his job." Showing sadness from the memory. "He should've waited for reinforcements. Shouldn't have faced Loki alone."
The guilt in Tony's words was unmistakable.
Before James could respond, Steve cut in.
"Plenty of things don't go your way. Is this the first time you've seen a warrior die?"
There was no malice in his voice—only the hardened resignation of a soldier who had buried too many.
Tony squared up immediately. "We're not warriors."
"Stop."
James stepped between them—physically and verbally.
"We're not warriors," he agreed. "Not by birth. Not by training. But right now?" His eyes swept the room. "We have to fight like we are."
Every monitor in the room flickered then, Athena shifting the display to real-time readouts of the Tesseract's energy signature.
The readings were climbing. Fast.
"Thor," James said, "Loki has everything he needs. His plan is already in motion. The Army is coming."
Thor's expression darkened—guilt and fury struggling beneath the surface.
"We were deceived," Thor muttered. "Both Banner and I. Loki manipulated us."
James nodded. "Athena—status of Banner's gamma algorithm?"
The Helicarrier lights dimmed slightly as Athena's projection pulsed.
{Completed. Target coordinates sanctified. You need only command, Messiah.}
Tony blinked. "Still creepy, James."
Thor raised a brow. Steve looked confused. Banner tried not to react at all.
James ignored the comment.
"Where is it?"
Bruce straightened. "Stark Tower."
Tony's eyes widened. "My tower—?"
Banner spoke quickly, clarity snapping into place.
"They need energy to heat the Tesseract. A hundred million degrees at minimum. Your tower has a self-sustaining arc reactor, Stark. Loki's using it."
Tony's temper sparked instantly.
"That bastard—!"
James held out a hand.
"Calm down. We need to coordinate a plan first."
Nick Fury voiced his opinion. "Agent Gibson, you're better at rallying this crowd than I am. Go ahead."
James nodded.
"Tony and I will go first—using our armor to get there. A Quinjet will carry everyone else. The Helicarrier is too slow to reposition directly over Manhattan."
He paced to the central hologram of the city.
"We contacted the NYPD. Immediate evacuation around Stark Tower—three blocks minimum. Establish a defensive perimeter. Contact the National Guard—for ground reinforcement. And someone call the damn military."
His eyes hardened. "We'll need air support too. A lot of it."
Fury frowned deeply. "There's a problem."
Steve stiffened. "What kind of problem?"
Fury hesitated—and everyone hated when he hesitated.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is… hated," Fury admitted. "Every intelligence agency, every military branch—they've been circling us like vultures. They want our tech. Our people. The Helicarrier itself. They want to carve us up into pieces and claim what they can."
Tony whispered, "Sharks smell blood."
"If we fail today," Fury said, "they'll use this as an excuse to dismantle us. At best, they'll seize control. At worst…" He shrugged. "We don't come back from it."
Steve stared at him, disgusted. "This is the state of the American military now?"
James didn't flinch. He'd already known.
"Spread the announcement," James said. "If they don't act, they'll regret it later."
His eyes flicked to Steve.
"Captain Rogers—during this engagement, you have ground command. You're the only one familiar with large-scale war."
He turned to Thor.
"Any objections?"
Thor shook his head. "None. I'll follow what my friend thinks is best."
James nodded.
"Then let's move. We're running out of time."
Tony clapped his hands together. "Finally something I'm good at. Let's suit up."
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THE ARMORY — UMBRA SENTINEL Mk II & IRON MAN
The armory doors sealed behind Tony and James with a metallic hiss.
Athena brightened the chamber's lights, illuminating two armored silhouettes standing on their platforms—Iron Man's iconic gold-and-red armor, and the matte-black Umbra Sentinel Mk II: Nocturne spare in case the one in his sub-space broke or just as camouflage for his sub-space.
James approached his armor.
Cortana projected data across his visor.
[Heart rate stable. Neural sync at 100%. Nexus capacitors fully charged. Sentinel frame integrity optimal.]
Robotic arms descended from the ceiling, unfolding like mechanical wings. Panels slid open, clamps engaged, and the armor wrapped around James plate by plate.
Tony stepped into his suit beside him.
(Initializing Mark VII armor. Power at 100%. All systems are green.) says JARVIS from tony's comm's.
James sealed his helmet as the black plating locked at the collar.
Tony glanced over.
"You know," he said, "your suit still looks like it listens to goth music."
James didn't miss a beat. "Try wearing matte black once in your life. You might actually look respectable."
Tony snorted. "Gonna pretend I didn't hear that."
The launch platform beneath them vibrated.
Above, the ceiling split open.
"Let's go, Stark."
"After you, partner."
Twin roars filled the armory as metal thrusters ignited, and two armored blurs shot into the sky—a black and red comet flying side-by-side.
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THE HELICARRIER — DEPLOYMENT OF THE OTHERS
Far below the Helicarrier's decks, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton spoke quietly in the equipment staging room.
They stopped when Steve Rogers pushed the door open.
"We're going," Steve said simply.
Natasha blinked. "Where?"
"We found the location of the Tesseract." He pointed at Clint. "We need a pilot."
Clint stood instantly. "I'm all good to fly us out."
Steve looked at Natasha for confirmation.
She nodded, indicating he fully snapped out of the mind control. "Let's move."
Minutes later, a Quinjet roared off the Helicarrier deck—Clint at the controls, Natasha co-piloting, with Steve, Thor, and Banner strapped into the rear seats.
The city awaited.
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THE QUINJET — TRUTH IN TRANSIT
The Quinjet sliced through the clouds.
Steve opened the comm line.
"James—can I call you that?"
"Of course," James replied. "You want to ask what I couldn't say earlier."
"Yeah. It wasn't the right time before. But now… we should be free from any enemy eavesdropping."
James didn't hesitate.
"The person who tricked Thor and Banner, the one who pulled Loki out… was Hydra."
The cabin went dead silent.
Steve's voice rose, raw disbelief cracking through him.
"That's impossible. Hydra fell."
James' tone turned cold, factual.
"You defeated the Red Skull. He's just one of the leaders. Not the whole organization."
He continued:
"After the war, your friends built S.H.I.E.L.D. out of the Strategic Science Reserve… and brought in Hydra scientists. They hid in plain sight. They grew, they recruited, and now Hydra exists in every branch of S.H.I.E.L.D."
Steve's knuckles whitened from sheer grip of fury.
"S.H.I.E.L.D… changed?"
"No," James corrected. "It was already broken. Fury inherited a compromised system. He just couldn't see how deep the rot went."
Thor listened with growing anger, Banner with sinking dread.
James inhaled.
"And since we're speaking plainly—my ability."
Steve perked up, tense.
"I have what most people would call 'mind reading.' But it has limits. Physical contact and massive energy cost. If Hydra ever learns I have this power, they'll attack openly. Too many innocents will die just to keep their secrets."
Steve swallowed. "So you can't just wipe them out."
"I could," James said softly. "But the consequences would be catastrophic."
He paused.
"The priority is stopping Loki and the army. Hydra can wait."
The Quinjet fell silent again.
Bruce finally murmured, "…all this time."
Natasha muttered a curse under her breath.
Thor placed a hand on the Quinjet wall, eyes dark with troubled thought.
Steve closed his eyes.
"Alright," he said quietly. "We stop the invasion first."
The Quinjet leveled out—Manhattan appearing ahead like a battlefield waiting to happen.
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NEW YORK CITY — CHAOS BEGINS
James and Tony streaked through the sky like twin trails.
Below them, the NYPD had already begun blocking streets. Thousands of civilians poured through intersections, abandoning vehicles, sirens wailed, officers shouted and helicopters circled the sky.
James' eyes pulsed as Cortana fed him data.
[Evacuation progress: 63%. Projected completion in 27 minutes. Two-block radius achievable if acceleration continues. No major resistance detected.]
"Good," James muttered. "Then we lock down the battlefield."
Tony angled downward. "Welcome to New York traffic. Now in apocalypse mode."
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AT THE TOWER — SELVIG & THE PORTAL DEVICE
The Stark Tower roof buzzed with energy—the Tesseract's power swirling violently inside the containment chamber.
James and Tony landed hard, metal boots sparking against the platform.
Tony approached Dr. Selvig.
"Selvig! Shut it down!"
Selvig's eyes were glassy, glowing faintly blue.
"It's too late," Selvig rasped. "No one can stop it. A new universe will be revealed."
Tony raised his repulsors.
"Okay, so—"
James stepped in front of him.
"Wait."
"Why?"
"The Tesseract is now drawing on its own power. Attacking the generator won't work."
Before Tony could argue, James stepped up to Selvig and delivered a precise punch to the side of his head.
Tony stared. "Dude! We need him conscious!"
James knelt, opening the armor on his right arm. He grabbed Selvig's wrist with his bare hands. 'Even though I already know a way, it can't hurt to find another way.'
[Cortana: Scanning neural patterns…]
[…alert: foreign energy barrier detected.]
[…source: Mind Stone residue.]
James hissed.
"There's a protective field blocking part of his memory."
"Meaning?" Tony asked.
"Meaning we can't read the part we need."
He stood, frustrated.
"No shutdown method. No failsafe. Nothing."
Tony clenched his fist. "Then we improvise."
"We do it together."
They looked up.
Loki was waiting inside Tony's penthouse.
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THE GOD OF MISCHIEF — FIRST CLASH
James blasted through the window—glass exploding outward.
"Hey!" Tony shouted behind him. "That's my glass!"
Loki smirked, scepter glowing.
"Tell us how to shut it down," James said.
Loki spread his arms dramatically.
"It cannot be closed. Once the portal opens, my army of Chitauri will—"
James fired.
An energy bolt struck Loki dead center, blasting him through a wall.
Tony blinked. "…wow."
James walked forward, voice cold.
"I'll ask again. How do we shut it down?"
Loki coughed.
"I told you—it—can't—"
James hit him again, sending him sliding across the floor.
Loki roared, divine rage sparking.
"You insolent—midgardian creature—"
James didn't let him finish.
He grabbed Loki by the ankles and slammed him left, right, left—Hulk-style brutality, like smashing the ground with a chain mace in anger.
"Puny god." 'I always wanted to say that.'
A buzzing, electrical hum sounded behind them.
Tony turned toward the roof.
"Oh hell."
The sky tore open.
A blue pillar of cosmic light shot upward, ripping a crack in the heavens. The universe blinked into view—stars beyond comprehension, swirling nebulae, colors no human language could describe.
Then a swarm of Chitauri sky-chariots slipped out of the portal — sleek flying frames shaped like futuristic yet threatening motorcycles, each with a soldier standing on its tail. Their weapons glowed with unstable energy, streaks of blue falling toward the city.
James stared at it, visor reflecting the alien monstrosity.
"Tony," he whispered, Nexus Arms deploying across his back.
"Time to unleash hell."
His voice turned to steel.
"I'm right behind you."