For a few seconds, the room stayed quiet. The dust hanging in the air seemed to settle, as if waiting for what came next. Even the distant sounds from outside had faded.
Wanda looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts, then lifted her eyes again. There was something new in her expression—uncertainty mixed with hope.
"There is… one more thing," she said softly.
Pietro shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. The old man and woman exchanged unsure looks, as if afraid of the reaction on the words they were about to say.
Wanda hesitated, then finally spoke.
"Last night, you three did something no one else has ever done for us. You saved us without asking for anything. You risked your lives for people you did not even know. And after everything… we cannot help wondering if… you might want to stand with us."
Liam raised a brow. "Stand with you?"
The old man stepped in quickly, sounding almost apologetic. "We mean… join us. Join Dawn Watch. Fight with us."
The old woman nodded, although she didn't have much hope. "We know we are not strong. We know we are just civilians. But we want to protect our people."
Pietro exhaled sharply, frustrated but honest. "Look, we know we are asking for too much. You three are obviously trained. Skilled. Better than anyone we have seen. We know a group like ours probably looks… weak to you. You might want to join stronger groups which may provide you much more benefits..."
He stopped and took a deep breath.
"But even if it is just for a while… even if it is only temporary… we would be thankful if you stood with us."
The silence that followed was thick.
They waited… almost bracing for rejection.
Liam glanced at Steve.
Steve glanced at Natasha.
Natasha raised a brow, silently asking, Your call or mine?
Liam sighed as he didn't expect that their motive to join the group would be fulfilled so easily.
"You think too little of yourselves," he said quietly. "You fight to protect civilians. You stand your ground even when outnumbered...with no weapons and for the betterment of your people. That alone makes you stronger than Black Ridge."
Liam continued, "You asked if we want to join you." He looked at Steve and Natasha, who both gave 'subtle nods' of agreement. "And the answer is yes. We will stand with you."
The entire room shifted.
The old man blinked, surprised. The others exchanged relieved looks after the trio had accepted without any demands.
Before anyone could speak again, Natasha lifted a hand slightly.
"I have a question," she said, her tone calm and sharp. "Why would you accept us so easily? You barely know us. We could be anyone. We could be working for someone far worse than Black Ridge."
The room stiffened for a moment.
The old man did not flinch as he had expected that question. "If you were our enemies," he said in a low, firm voice, "we would already be dead. Last night you had weapons, training, and every advantage. Killing us would have been easy. Saving us would not."
The old woman nodded slowly. "People who intend harm do not warn their victims."
Pietro added, "And you came here this morning. Alone. No backup. No reinforcements hiding outside. People who plan an attack do not walk openly into a meeting surrounded by strangers."
Wanda finished the point quietly. "If we cannot trust our own judgment after what you did last night, then we do not deserve to lead anyone."
Natasha absorbed the answer and nodded once in approval.
"Fair enough," she said.
With that settled, the tension in the room shifted. Not gone, but redirected toward something far more urgent.
Wanda stepped forward again, her expression serious. "Now that we are working together, we have something important to address."
Liam raised a brow. "Black Ridge."
"Yes." Wanda sighed. "They know the warehouse attack was compromised. They know we escaped. They will not ignore that. Black Ridge always responds quickly when something goes wrong."
The old man added, "If they realize we have new allies, especially skilled ones, they will strike harder."
Wanda added. "We need a defensive plan. We need to move our people. And we need to understand how they plan to deal with us, then come up with a counter of our own."
The room fell quiet for a moment.
Natasha broke the ice. "Then the sooner we understand the structure of your group, the better. If we're working together, we should know who we're working with."
That seemed to remind the Dawn Watch leaders of something they had forgotten in all the tension.
The old man cleared his throat. "You helped us, and we have been speaking to you like faceless strangers. That is not right." He straightened his posture a little. "My name is Milen Radan."
The old woman gave a small smile. "I am Lira Radan. This causes confusion sometimes," she admitted, "because many think I share leadership with my husband. But no… I lead my own side of Dawn Watch. He leads his."
Pietro stepped forward next. "Pietro Maximoff." He jerked a thumb toward Wanda. "This one is Wanda, my twin sister and one of the leaders of the group."
Wanda nodded politely toward the trio.
Liam and the rest too once again introduced themselves in return and then added, "Let's get to work. We don't have much time."
Everyone nodded at that, the tension returning once again.
-
--
---
[New York City]
Morning light slipped through the dusty warehouse windows, spreading a soft, dull glow across the cold concrete floor. The city outside was waking up slowly, horns and distant voices already rising, but inside the warehouse there was only stillness and the low, uneven buzz of an old analog monitor set on a worn metal desk.
Nick Fury sat in front of it, his hands linked together, his expression unreadable but firm, the kind of look that meant he was already ten steps ahead.
Maria Hill stood behind him, straight-backed and sharp-eyed, watching the screen with the focus of someone preparing for the worst.
Clint Barton leaned against the nearby wall, his bow resting at his side, his posture relaxed but his gaze alert, a predator waiting for a signal.
On the monitor, the World Security Council chamber played live, the room filled with polished desks, spotless glass walls, and powerful faces.
Alexander Pierce's voice flowed through the speakers, smooth, controlled, and dripping with certainty.
"…and no matter what happens, history will remember Fury as the man who nearly nuked Manhattan."
The words cut cleanly through the warehouse, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed against the air.
Hill exhaled slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "That's it. That's their final choice."
Fury closed his eye for a moment, then reached forward and flipped the switch. The screen flickered, turned to static, and the warehouse fell completely silent.
On the desk in front of him sat one device: a compact analog receiver covered in small wires and dials. This was the tool that let Fury watch the Council meeting live without touching any digital network. It hummed quietly as its warm coils cooled down.
The recorder itself wasn't in the warehouse. It was still hidden inside the Council's projector, exactly where Ghost Unit had placed it the night before. Tony had built that recorder in just one night. He made it for Fury because Fury had given him something he wanted—permission to operate freely while searching for the people who killed his parents.
The recorder Tony made didn't use any electronics at all. It had no wires, no circuits, no battery, no heat, and nothing that could send out a signal. It was made only of tiny metal parts, little springs, and a very small lens. Because it didn't give off electricity or radio waves, even the best scanners would see it as nothing more than a normal metal piece. Tony also used the same kind of metal that was already inside the projector, so anyone opening it would think the recorder was just another built-in part unless they took the whole machine apart, piece by tiny piece. No security team would ever do something that extreme, especially in a room they believed was completely safe.
Thanks to the hidden recorder inside the projector and the analog receiver on Fury's desk, every word, every vote, and every lie from Pierce and the Council was now safely stored on the analog tape lying in Fury's hand.
Fury picked up the analog tape from the desk, turning it over once in his hand like he was weighing the future.
"He thinks I'm going to take this quietly," Fury said, his voice low and steady.
He slipped into his coat and adjusted the collar.
"But I'm going to break the whole game."
Hill waited, her posture straightening. "What do we do?"
Fury walked toward the door without hurry, each step carrying purpose.
He paused with one hand resting on the handle.
"Expose them," he said. "All of them."
Then he added, with a cold certainty that made both Hill and Barton stiffen slightly:
"And after that, we drag HYDRA into the light."
He switched off the nearby lamp, and the warehouse fell silent as the morning sun continued to rise.
***
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