OsCorp Tower – Executive Office.
The doors opened without a knock.
Tony Stark walked in like he owned the building, trailed by an ever-tense Happy Hogan, eyes constantly scanning the room as if expecting a bomb to go off.
At the far end of the office, Nolan stood by the window, the Captain America shield propped against the wall beside him.
"Well," Nolan said with a faint smile. "The great Tony Stark. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Tony didn't answer at first. His gaze went to the shield.
"That... looks like something a friend of mine lost."
Nolan glanced over at it, amused. "I found it. If you're interested, Mr. Stark, I might be willing to sell it. After a little study, of course."
Tony didn't rise to the bait.
"I'm not here for souvenirs," he said. "I'm here to ask you—personally—to drop your suit against Steve Rogers."
Nolan raised an eyebrow. "That's unexpected. You, asking on Rogers' behalf?"
"I'm not doing this for him. I'm doing it for what he used to stand for."
"Used to?" Nolan chuckled. "Mr. Stark, maybe you haven't noticed—but the age of hero worship is over. Rogers and his crew blew up part of my facility and endangered civilians. What they used to be doesn't matter."
"It was a tactical operation. Authorized."
"Authorized?" Nolan stepped forward, his tone sharpening. "And how many times has your little authorization left a crater in someone else's city, hmm? Sokovia? Lagos? New York?"
"This isn't about past mistakes," he said. "This is about preventing future ones."
Nolan leaned back. "Ah. The Hero Registration Act, then?"
"I believe people with extraordinary abilities need accountability," he said. "Just like anyone else. Records. Oversight. Safety nets."
Nolan nodded thoughtfully. "And who holds those records, Mr. Stark? Who oversees the overseers?"
"I'm not saying you're wrong," Nolan continued. "But you're assuming those records won't fall into the wrong hands. You assume every enhanced person is like you wealthy, famous, publicly known."
"Not everyone can afford to be unmasked, Mr. Stark."
Tony frowned. "You sound like Rogers."
"No. Rogers believes in freedom without boundaries. I believe in structure. Control. But not blind obedience."
Nolan's voice dropped to a near whisper.
"Instead of folding everyone into a government-sanctioned cage... what if you created something better?"
"A global registry... of our own making."
"A network. A league. Not run by politicians. Run by people like us."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "You mean like a true Superhero Union?"
"Exactly. Independent. Accountable. Transparent. And if you need funding..." Nolan smiled. "OsCorp is more than willing to invest."
Tony turned, walking toward the door without a word.
At the threshold, he paused.
"Thanks for the coffee," he said. "We'll be in touch."
Nolan watched him go, smirking.
"Hook's set," he murmured. "Now let's see what swims into the net."
Minutes later, Nolan's phone buzzed.
One message. Anonymous. No words just an address. And a photo.
A severed hand marked with a crimson tattoo.
Nolan dialed. "Klaw? Send the payment."
He looked at the shield again. "That red-white-blue paint is hideous. We'll fix that."
As he turned to leave, Norman Osborn burst in.
"Boss. We got intel from the agents we interrogated."
"Yeah. From Japan. They were sent by... Madame Viper."
Norman nodded. "Looks world's folding in on itself. X-Men's Viper and Hydra's Viper they're the same now."
"Of course," Nolan muttered. "And let me guess—she's working with The Hand."
"The address we got from our mole matches the location the Hand just sent you."
Nolan exhaled and smirked. "Perfect."
"We hit them both. Two birds, one nest."
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