When had Tony Stark ever been humiliated like this?
His life had always been filled with excess and indulgence, with luxury spilling over into every corner of his existence. There were always parties, always music, always people eager to orbit around him, drawn by his wealth and brilliance.
The finest alcohol flowed like water, rare bottles uncorked without a second thought. Models laughed at his side, the world bending easily to his presence.
And now?
Now he was being trampled by his own teammates.
The thought hit harder than any physical blow.
Didn't they understand what this meant? Didn't they realize how disgusting it was to let someone slander the Stark family without consequence?
All he wanted was revenge.
That was it.
So why…
Why did they keep stopping him?
Those thoughts flashed through Tony's mind in a chaotic blur just before—
"Bang!"
Steve's fist landed.
The impact was clean and decisive, knocking Tony unconscious on the spot. His body went limp, the fight draining out of him instantly as he collapsed.
For a split second, there was silence.
Then—
The entire venue erupted.
Cheers exploded from every direction, the crowd roaring with excitement as if they had just witnessed something historic. Cameras flashed wildly, reporters shouting over one another, desperate to capture every angle of what had just happened.
This wasn't just a fight.
This was a spectacle.
And they loved it.
With that surge of momentum behind him, Steve straightened and stepped forward, walking toward Liam with a composed, dignified stride.
"My comrade," he began, his voice steady and sincere, "I know I've made mistakes in the past."
His tone softened slightly, carefully measured.
"But I hope you'll come back."
Nearby, cameras zoomed in, capturing every detail of his expression. His posture, his gaze, the way he held himself—it all radiated that familiar image of righteousness.
He looked like the embodiment of everything people expected a hero to be.
Pure.
Unyielding.
Radiant.
If someone didn't know better, they might believe every word without question.
But Liam did know better.
He let out a quiet scoff, the sound barely audible under the noise of the crowd. In his mind, the memory was still crystal clear.
That bald-headed director had driven him out without hesitation, without disguise.
There had been no hesitation.
No compromise.
Just cold, unmistakable rejection.
From that moment on, Liam had made a decision.
If the world treated him with malice, then he would return it in kind.
Repay evil with good?
That was for saints.
He wasn't a saint.
He was a butcher.
And right now, the man standing in front of him was trying to pull the same old trick—moral pressure wrapped in righteous language.
Liam had seen it all before.
He knew exactly how to deal with it.
"You're right," he said calmly, his voice steady as he met Steve's gaze. "But I have something bigger to focus on."
He turned slightly, gesturing toward the crowd below the stage.
"I want to bring affordable electricity to millions of homes."
"I want technology to belong to everyone, not just a handful of people."
There was no hesitation in his tone, no exaggeration.
Just clarity.
"I don't have the time or energy to join the Avengers."
The words landed cleanly.
And then—
The reaction came.
The moment his voice faded, the crowd below erupted once more. Cheers, shouts, applause—it all surged upward in a wave so intense it almost felt tangible.
The sound rolled through the venue, overwhelming everything else.
For a brief second, Steve felt something strange.
It was as if he had stepped into a completely different world.
"How… is this possible?"
The thought slipped out before he could stop it.
This kind of reaction—
This level of support—
It used to belong to him.
He was the one people cheered for.
The one they believed in.
So how had things changed so quickly?
How had this man—this butcher—risen to this level in such a short time?
A flicker of urgency crossed Steve's expression.
He couldn't let this slip away.
If Liam walked off now, if he refused completely, then everything they were trying to rebuild would become even harder.
They needed him.
Desperately.
"We shouldn't limit ourselves to just one goal," Steve continued, trying again, his voice rising with renewed conviction.
"We should push ourselves further. Burn brighter."
"Crack."
The sound cut him off.
At first, it was just one stone.
Then another.
Pebbles flew up from below the stage, striking the platform with sharp, irregular impacts. The shift was sudden, jarring, and impossible to ignore.
The crowd was no longer just cheering.
They were rejecting him.
In this world, there were too many people struggling, too many lives weighed down by reality. If someone could offer them tangible benefits, something real and immediate—
Then they would support that person without hesitation.
Titles didn't matter.
History didn't matter.
So what if Steve represented freedom?
To them, he was just an old relic.
Outdated.
Irrelevant.
And Liam?
He didn't need to say anything more.
He didn't need to move.
The momentum was already in place.
People spoke for him.
"It looks like I can't save the world with you guys," Liam said lightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Steve forced a smile in return, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.
"We're still comrades," he said. "I believe you'll come back."
"We all miss you."
Even now, he refused to let go.
Even now, he tried to pull Liam back into his orbit.
But the crowd wasn't having it.
More stones flew.
Voices rose, louder and sharper than before.
"A butcher who actually works for the people is a real hero!"
"Captain, just take Iron Man and leave!"
"You're out of touch! What do you know about helping people anymore?!"
The words came one after another, piling up without restraint.
Steve's expression stiffened.
For the first time in a long time, he felt something unfamiliar.
Loss.
Once, he had stood at the center of public admiration, surrounded by cheers and unwavering support.
Now, that spotlight had shifted.
And it had shifted completely.
The realization hit harder than any blow.
"Captain… we should go."
Hawkeye stepped closer, his voice low as he glanced at the increasingly hostile crowd. The tension was rising, and it wouldn't take much for things to spiral further.
Steve didn't respond immediately.
He was stubborn.
He could fight all day.
But even he knew this wasn't a battle he could win.
Not here.
Not like this.
Natasha moved in next, grabbing his arm more firmly.
This time, there was no room for hesitation.
They had to leave.
As she pulled him back, her thoughts shifted rapidly.
If charm wasn't enough…
Then she would have to find another way.
Something less conventional.
Something more effective.
Today, the Avengers had come in with confidence, expecting to control the situation.
Instead—
They were pushed out.
Once again, they had lost to the Butcher.
And this time, it was in front of everyone.
Amid the aftermath, Ivan stood quietly for a moment, his breathing uneven.
Then, slowly, his eyes began to glisten.
"Mr. Butcher…"
His voice carried a tremor.
"I beat Iron Man."
"I actually won."
He stepped forward, stopping in front of Liam as emotion welled up inside him. For years, this was something he had never even dared to imagine.
Standing in front of the media.
Striking back at Stark.
Turning the tables.
All of it felt unreal.
And yet—
It had happened.
Because of Liam.
Because of everything that had been set into motion.
Without that sudden shift in public opinion, without the support that came with it, things would have turned out very differently.
He wouldn't have stood a chance.
"It was your effort," Liam replied calmly, his tone steady.
He played the role perfectly, his expression sincere as he continued.
"The Stark family wronged your father."
"We won't let them do the same to you."
The words landed cleanly, echoing through the space.
"Splash!"
Applause broke out again, loud and unified.
To the crowd, this wasn't just a confrontation.
It was justice.
A story they understood.
A story they believed in.
A man wronged, rising up to fight back.
That was something they could stand behind.
Far away, inside S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick Fury watched everything unfold in silence.
The entire broadcast played out in front of him, every moment captured clearly.
He saw how the Avengers had intervened.
Saw how Tony had been stopped.
And he understood more than most.
He had known Howard Stark.
He knew the truth wasn't simple.
The weapons business never was.
And the incident involving Ivan's father…
That wasn't something that could be erased.
Fury leaned back slightly, his expression darkening.
"Do we hold another meeting?"
The thought lingered.
An apology.
Damage control.
Something to stabilize the situation.
Because right now—
Public opinion had already shifted.
People weren't just supporting Liam.
They were idolizing him.
"The Butcher…"
Fury murmured quietly.
"The one who actually cares."
That was dangerous.
If this had been an ordinary person, he could have handled it. Public relations, narrative control, pressure—there were always ways to manage things.
But this?
This wasn't simple.
Danny, the president of Milcom Industries, wasn't someone who could be pushed around.
Fury's fingers tapped slowly against the table as his thoughts settled.
"We're going to have to bleed for this."
.....
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