"Whoooosh—!"
The wind howled like a living beast, tearing through the air with savage force. Thunder cracked overhead, lightning slashing across the sky in blinding streaks as the entire world seemed to collapse into a haze of pale gray.
Dust, wind, and electricity merged into a chaotic storm, swallowing everything in sight.
Visibility dropped to almost nothing.
And yet—
Through that raging storm, Steve Rogers walked forward.
Step by step.
Unshaken.
He emerged from the chaos like a pillar rising from the earth itself, his figure steady and unyielding despite the violent forces surrounding him. There was something almost symbolic about it—the calm center within a storm, the embodiment of order pushing against disorder.
Behind him followed the rest of the Avengers.
Natasha Romanoff moved with sharp, efficient precision, her eyes scanning constantly. Clint Barton kept his bow ready, muscles tense, while Bruce Banner struggled slightly against the harsh wind, doing his best to keep pace.
They pressed forward together.
Straight toward the towering golden tree that pierced the heavens.
Even through the storm, its presence was undeniable.
Majestic.
Ancient.
Otherworldly.
Some things didn't need explanation to command awe.
"That… tree…" Steve muttered under his breath, his voice carrying a rare weight.
"The Tree of Life…" Banner added quietly, his tone almost reverent.
The two exchanged a brief glance.
Different words.
Same conclusion.
Before either of them could say more, Clint Barton suddenly froze mid-step. His expression sharpened instantly, eyes locking onto something ahead.
Then—
Without warning—
He sprinted forward.
"Target spotted!" he shouted.
"Move!" Steve didn't hesitate, immediately accelerating to follow.
Natasha reacted just as quickly, grabbing Banner by the arm and pulling him along with practiced efficiency. She didn't give him time to protest, dragging him deeper into the storm without breaking stride.
Banner forced a strained smile, trying to speak.
"I—actually—I don't need—"
A mouthful of dust slammed into him before he could finish.
He shut up instantly.
There was no arguing with a storm.
Or Natasha.
The wind intensified as they pushed forward, time blurring under the constant roar of thunder. It felt like minutes… or maybe longer.
Then—
Natasha stopped.
Abruptly.
Her body stiffened, and for the first time since entering the storm, something close to fear flashed across her face.
"What is it?" Steve demanded, stepping up beside her.
She didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
Everyone followed her gaze.
And saw—
A figure.
In the heart of the storm.
Amid the violent winds and blinding lightning, where the chaos was at its peak, a lone red figure sat cross-legged on the ground, completely unmoved. He looked almost serene, as if the storm simply didn't exist.
Behind him, in the distance, the golden divine tree loomed even larger.
Still far away.
Still untouchable.
"..."
For a brief moment, no one spoke.
Then—
"Daredevil."
The name came from Clint Barton, his voice tight with restrained anger.
He would never forget that man.
A so-called "hero" who operated outside the system. Someone who dared to enforce his own version of justice without permission, without structure.
To Hawkeye, that wasn't heroism.
That was chaos.
He had climbed from nothing, fought his way up through the ranks, and placed his trust in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s order. To him, justice came from control, from systems—not from lone vigilantes acting on impulse.
People like Daredevil?
They were problems waiting to happen.
"Whoosh—!"
In one smooth motion, Hawkeye pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it to his bow.
He didn't hesitate.
This time—
He wouldn't miss.
"Hold it."
Natasha's voice cut in sharply.
Hawkeye frowned slightly, irritation flickering across his face.
"What, you planning to let him go?" he asked. "Since when do we spare enemies?"
Daredevil might not have been a villain.
But after their last encounter—
He was an enemy.
Natasha's lips curved into a faint, predatory smile.
"Use your brain," she said calmly. "Are you sure a regular arrow's enough?"
"…Right."
Hawkeye paused for half a second.
Then quietly switched arrows.
The ordinary shaft slid back into his quiver, replaced by something far more dangerous.
A specialized explosive arrow.
"You don't leave loose ends," Natasha added softly.
"Understood."
Hawkeye lowered his stance, drawing the bowstring back slowly. His breathing steadied, his focus narrowing until the entire world seemed to shrink down to a single point—
The red figure.
Locked.
Targeted.
Finished.
"Whoosh—!"
The arrow launched.
It tore through the air with terrifying speed, slicing through the storm itself. The pressure it generated produced a sharp cracking sound as it closed the distance in an instant.
Mid-flight—
The tip split open.
The payload activated.
"Sssss—!"
Thick white smoke erupted outward, spreading rapidly as the arrow neared its target.
Then—
BOOM!!!
Flames exploded outward, merging with the storm in a violent burst of destruction. Fire and smoke swallowed the red figure entirely, the shockwave ripping through the surrounding air.
"It's over," Steve said firmly, his voice carrying absolute certainty.
To him, it was simple.
No human body could survive that.
Not without protection.
Not without preparation.
Even Daredevil—
Couldn't take that head-on.
Banner, however, frowned slightly, unease creeping into his expression. Something about this didn't sit right with him.
It felt… wrong.
"Ssshhh—!"
The wind surged again, sweeping through the aftermath of the explosion.
Smoke cleared.
Debris settled.
And—
Nothing.
No blood.
No remains.
No body.
"…That's not possible," Hawkeye muttered, his confidence cracking for the first time.
The impact zone was empty.
Completely empty.
Then—
Forty meters away—
A figure appeared.
Silent.
Unharmed.
Daredevil stood there, his blindfold still wrapped tightly around his eyes. His hands were bound in bandages, his posture calm yet coiled with restrained power.
His fists clenched slowly.
His head tilted slightly.
He had already found them.
Locked onto them.
"Black Widow," he said, voice low.
"Hawkeye."
There was no hesitation.
No doubt.
Only anger.
"You hypocrites…" he continued, his tone sharpening. "You're going to pay for this."
His right leg lifted slowly.
Deliberately.
The movement was precise, controlled—like a blade being drawn from its sheath.
Then—
A faint yellow glow emerged.
Subtle.
But heavy.
The air itself seemed to sink under its weight.
Earth.
Pure earth-element energy.
"I'll return the favor."
He moved.
In a single instant, Daredevil surged forward, the ground beneath him cracking slightly from the force of his launch. His speed was explosive, his presence overwhelming as he closed the distance in the blink of an eye.
Steve reacted immediately.
Shield up.
Brace.
Impact—
"CLANG!!!"
The collision rang out like a struck bell.
But it wasn't enough.
The force behind the kick shattered through Steve's defense, launching him backward like he'd been hit by a speeding train. His body tore through the air before crashing hard into the ground, skidding across the surface.
"Cough—!"
Steve pushed himself up slightly, blood already forming at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were wide, shock flooding his expression.
That—
Wasn't normal.
That wasn't human.
"How…?" he whispered, voice strained.
How could a body of flesh and blood generate that kind of power?
His mind struggled to process it.
His instincts screamed.
For the first time since stepping into the storm—
Steve Rogers felt fear.
.....
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