[Thor eyed Nick Fury with growing disdain, the Asgardian's patience visibly wearing thin. "You speak of control, yet you court chaos," he observed with the wisdom of someone who had lived for centuries. His massive arms crossed over his chest as he delivered this judgment.]
["It's his M.O., isn't it?" Banner interjected, his usual mild demeanor giving way to something sharper, more dangerous. "I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos." His hands gesticulated with growing intensity, mirroring his rising emotions. "We're... we're a time-bomb."]
[Fury turned his full attention to Banner, sensing the escalating risk. "You need to step away," he ordered, his voice deliberately calm but authoritative. The tension in his posture betrayed his awareness of just how volatile the situation had become.]
[Tony, seemingly oblivious to the danger—or perhaps deliberately stoking it—sidestepped Fury and placed a casual hand on Steve's broad shoulder. "Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?" he asked with manufactured innocence, his eyes twinkling with provocation.]
[Steve reacted instantly, shrugging Tony's hand away with unconcealed disgust. "You know damn well why! Back off!" The uncharacteristic profanity from America's golden boy revealed just how deeply the tensions had penetrated even his legendary composure.]
["Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me," Tony responded, moving to stand directly in front of Steve, the shorter man tilting his head back slightly to meet the super-soldier's gaze. The challenge in his voice was unmistakable as they squared off like schoolyard rivals.]
["Big man in a suit of armor," Steve observed with cutting precision. "Take that off, what are you?" The question was designed to strike at the core of Tony's insecurities—his reliance on technology rather than innate ability.]
[Tony didn't hesitate, answering with practiced smoothness that barely concealed his genuine anger. "Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist." Each word was delivered with deliberate emphasis, his self-description both accurate and deliberately provocative.]
[Steve's expression hardened, unimpressed by the credentials. "I know guys with none of that worth ten of you," he countered, his voice low and intense. "I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself." He leaned closer, his next words aimed like precision weapons. "You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."]
[Tony's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of genuine hurt crossing his features before being masked by his usual sardonic expression. "I think I would just cut the wire," he replied, his response characteristically clever but revealing a fundamental difference in their worldviews.]
[A humorless smile crossed Steve's face. "Always a way out," he observed with quiet certainty. "You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero." The statement landed like a physical blow, targeting exactly what Tony most wanted to be—and most feared he wasn't.]
["A hero? Like you?" Tony's voice took on a harder edge, abandoning his usual flippant tone. "You're a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!" The two men were now standing nearly chest to chest, their mounting anger practically generating visible heat between them.]
[Outside the helicarrier, the small transport plane had maneuvered into position, hovering just beyond the range of normal detection. The rear loading ramp lowered silently, revealing Clint Barton standing at the edge, bow in hand. His eyes, unnaturally blue with Loki's influence, surveyed the massive flying vessel with cold calculation.]
[With practiced precision, Barton nocked a specialized arrow to his bowstring. The wind whipped around him as he drew back, his muscles tensing with the considerable force required to bend the military-grade composite bow. His aim was steady despite the buffeting air currents and the movement of both aircraft.]
[He released the arrow with a fluid motion, the projectile cutting through the sky in a graceful arc. As it approached the helicarrier, small stabilizing fins deployed, adjusting its trajectory with microscopic corrections. The arrow curved around exposed infrastructure and attached itself to the housing of the massive Engine Three with a soft magnetic clunk. Immediately, a small red light began blinking on its tip, the frequency of the pulses increasing rapidly—a countdown to destruction.]
[Back in the laboratory, the brewing confrontation between Steve and Tony continued to escalate. Steve's jaw tightened as he issued a direct challenge: "Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds." His stance shifted subtly into a fighting position, muscle memory from countless brawls in Brooklyn alleys decades earlier.]
[Thor's deep laughter broke through the tension, though it contained no actual humor. "You people are so petty... and tiny," he observed with the condescension of a being who had witnessed centuries of mortal conflicts, finding this particular argument especially pointless.]
["Yeah, this is a team," Banner muttered sarcastically from his position near the scepter, his hands fidgeting nervously with his glasses as he watched the supposed heroes bickering like children.]
[Fury attempted to regain control of the rapidly deteriorating situation. "Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his—"]
["Where?" Banner interrupted, his voice sharp with bitter amusement. "You rented my room." The simple statement carried layers of accusation about his status as both an asset and a threat.]
["The cell was just a precaution—" Fury began, attempting to defuse Banner's growing agitation.]
["In case you needed to kill me," Banner finished for him, his usual soft-spoken manner giving way to something harder, angrier. "But you can't! I know! I tried!" The unexpected confession silenced the room instantly, all eyes turning to Banner with renewed concern.]
[The pained honesty in Banner's expression made it clear he wasn't exaggerating for effect. "I got low," he continued, his voice quieter but intense with remembered despair. "I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth... and the other guy spit it out!" His hand clenched involuntarily at the memory, knuckles whitening with pressure.]
[The revelation hung in the air, momentarily shocking even Tony into silence. Banner's eyes swept across the faces watching him, finding a mixture of pity and fear that he'd seen too many times before. "So I moved on," he continued, his voice regaining some of its usual control. "I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk!"]
[As his agitation grew, Banner's hand unconsciously reached behind him toward the lab table. "You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff?" he asked, his voice rising slightly as he addressed Natasha directly. "You wanna know how I stay calm?"]
[Fury and Natasha's hands simultaneously moved toward their holstered weapons, a subtle movement that didn't escape anyone's notice. The atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically from tension to genuine alarm.]
["Doctor Banner," Steve said with deliberate calm, his eyes fixed not on Banner's face but on his hand. "Put down the scepter."]
[Banner looked down in genuine surprise to find Loki's scepter clutched in his hand, with no memory of having picked it up. The blue gem pulsed gently, almost eagerly, in response to his touch. The realization of how close he'd come to losing control visibly shook him.]
[Before anyone could speak further, a computer console across the lab emitted a sharp alert tone. The tracking algorithm had completed its work, displaying coordinates for the gamma radiation signature they'd been seeking.]
["Got it," Banner announced, carefully placing the scepter back on the table and moving quickly toward the computer, eager to distance himself from the dangerous artifact and return to familiar scientific territory. "Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my little party trick after all." The tension in his shoulders remained visible despite his attempt at levity.]
["You located the Tesseract?" Thor demanded, his focus immediately returning to his primary mission. The god's single-minded concern for the Asgardian artifact was evident in his posture as he moved closer to the display.]
[Tony stepped toward the door, already mentally preparing for what needed to be done. "I can get there fastest," he stated, the implicit reminder of his suit's capabilities serving as both practical observation and subtle taunt to the others.]
["Look, all of us—" Steve began, but Thor cut him off with royal authority.]
["The Tesseract belongs on Asgard," the god insisted, his voice brooking no argument. "No human is a match for it." His massive hand rested on Mjölnir at his hip, a not-so-subtle reminder of his ability to enforce this claim if necessary.]
[Tony turned to leave, but Steve's hand shot out to grab his arm. "You're not going alone!" The order carried the unmistakable authority of Captain America, not merely Steve Rogers.]
[Tony slapped the restraining hand away with surprising force. "You gonna stop me?" he challenged, the earlier argument reigniting instantly despite the more pressing concerns.]
["Put on the suit, let's find out," Steve repeated his earlier challenge, the two men circling back to their fundamental disagreement despite the crisis unfolding around them.]
["I'm not afraid to hit an old man," Tony fired back, his patience completely exhausted.]
["Put on the suit," Steve repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl.]
[At the computer console, Banner suddenly removed his glasses, staring at the displayed coordinates with growing horror. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, the implications of what he was seeing suddenly clear to him.]
[Outside, Barton's thumb pressed down on a small detonator built into his bow grip. The action triggered the explosive-tipped arrow attached to Engine Three. The blast ripped through the metal housing with devastating precision, shredding turbine blades and rupturing fuel lines in a catastrophic chain reaction.]
[The explosion tore through the helicarrier with terrifying force. The laboratory instantly transformed from a space of verbal conflict to physical chaos. The blast wave shattered glass partitions and overturned equipment, throwing the occupants violently in different directions.]
[Natasha and Banner were hurled toward the lower equipment level, crashing through the remaining glass barriers and landing hard on the metal grating below. Laboratory equipment rained down around them, electrical systems sparked and caught fire, and emergency klaxons immediately began wailing throughout the helicarrier.]
"Will they be okay?"
"God bless!"
Helen Stacy and the second Aunt May were both a little panicked.
"They will definitely be fine! But those ordinary agents may not be fine!" George's face was a little solemn. He didn't expect that SHIELD could be approached and attacked by Barton so easily!
"Barton is a senior agent of SHIELD. He must be very familiar with SHIELD's situation, so he can invade this large ship so easily."
George nodded in approval of Uncle Ben's words.
At this time, Tony and the others were sitting on the lawn watching Banner's body lying quietly on the ground. His soul was invisible to them, so they didn't know how Banner talked with Hulk.
But judging from the expressions of Wanda and Strange, they are not very optimistic.
As for the tension between Captain America and Tony on the screen, in reality they don't care at all. It's not the first day they have known each other. After getting to know each other, they understand each other's strengths and weaknesses, and wisely avoid those points that may cause problems.
[The explosion instantly transformed Steve and Tony's confrontation. Through the smoke and sparks, their eyes met with new understanding—personal grievances momentarily forgotten in the face of genuine crisis. "Put on the suit!" Steve ordered again, but this time the words carried urgency rather than challenge.]
[Tony nodded curtly, no trace of his earlier sarcasm as he replied, "Yep!" The two men who had been at each other's throats moments before now moved with coordinated purpose toward the door, Steve helping Tony navigate through the debris-strewn corridor toward his armor storage.]
[Throughout the massive vessel, organized chaos erupted as trained SHIELD personnel responded to the attack. Agents streamed from stations toward predetermined emergency positions, many stopping at weapons caches to arm themselves with assault rifles and tactical gear. Emergency protocols that had been drilled countless times were now executed with professional precision, though the underlying tension was visible in every face.]
[Alarm systems blared through every corridor and compartment: "All hands to stations! This is not a drill! Repeat, all hands to stations! We are under attack!"]
[In the command center, Fury hauled himself back to his feet, blood trickling from a cut on his forehead. He pressed his communicator earpiece, immediately seeking situation reports. "Hill!" he barked, needing his second-in-command's assessment.]
[Maria Hill's voice came through with the background noise of the damaged bridge behind her. "External detonation on Engine Three!" she reported crisply, professional even in crisis. "We've been hit!"]
[She turned to the nearby technicians, demanding immediate status updates. "Can we get a damage assessment? What's our engine status?" Her composure under fire exemplified why Fury had made her his deputy.]
[A pale-faced engineer looked up from his console, his expression grim. "Turbine looks mostly intact, but it's impossible to get out there and make repairs while we're in the air." The implication was clear—if they couldn't fix Engine Three, maintaining flight would become increasingly difficult.]
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