Aboard the helicarrier, the control room was dimly lit, the soft hum of machinery blending with the flickering lights of the massive central screen. Wanda, Sharon, and Luke stood together before it, gazing silently at the live footage from the dock below.
It felt less like surveillance and more like watching a grim movie unfold.
On-screen, Killian's men suspended the President high above a massive gasoline tank. Sharon clenched her fists. She couldn't stay quiet any longer.
"This isn't right," she muttered. "He's about to be burned alive. We can't just stand here."
Her voice carried a tension neither Wanda nor Luke responded to right away. They simply continued watching, unmoved.
The difference lay in their pasts.
Wanda, orphaned and raised in the shadow of war and corruption, had no faith in the shining image the country projected. To her, this President was just another figurehead in a system she didn't believe in. If he died, someone else would take his place. It would make no difference to her.
Luke's detachment ran even deeper. Whether by origin or experience, he had never cared much for politicians. The President's fate didn't concern him. He'd grown up under similar hardships as Wanda and didn't see any reason to pretend otherwise.
But Sharon was different.
Raised under the ideals of her country, trained by S.H.I.E.L.D., she still held on to a fading sense of duty. There was still a sliver of loyalty burning in her.
Yet, even now, that loyalty had clearly changed. A few months ago, she might have jumped straight down into danger without a second thought. Now, she simply felt uneasy.
He didn't want to let Sharon stew in that discomfort, but he had his own plans. He glanced back at the screen, arms folded, calculating.
If he made a move now, before Iron Man arrived, he'd only get a fraction of the plot points he needed. Like with the Hydra incident, the system would barely reward him if the main Marvel characters weren't involved. And right now, he still needed 12 more points to upgrade.
No Tony Stark, no bonus.
He turned to Sharon with a calm voice. "Relax. The President won't die. Someone's coming to save him. We just need to wait a little longer."
Sharon furrowed her brow. "And if no one shows up?"
Luke shrugged. "Then you can go save him yourself."
Sharon let out a slow breath and nodded. "Alright."
Luke tilted his head toward Bumblebee. "Bee, check Tony Stark's current location. Is he en route?"
Ten seconds later, Bumblebee pulled up live aerial tracking footage. A red-and-gold figure streaked across the sky.
"There," Luke said, pointing. "The rescuer. Just in time."
Sharon's posture eased, though her eyes remained locked on the screen. She wasn't going to relax until it was over.
Even Doggo padded over, ears perked, tail twitching with interest. He sat down behind them, eyes wide and gleaming like a child watching fireworks.
Meanwhile, at the White House, tension hung in the air like storm clouds.
The vice president, now acting president, sat at the head of the war room table, feigning a stern and solemn expression. Despite the chaos outside, he was enjoying the taste of power.
Still, appearances had to be kept.
"We must teach these terrorists a lesson," he said firmly, voice edged with false anger.
The officials around him murmured in agreement. But one man, loyal to the captured President, stood up with a fiery glare.
"We need to mobilize the New York military base. Send every available troop to rescue him!"
The vice president calmly shook his head. "Too risky. If we deploy the army, the President could be caught in the crossfire. And who's to say they won't kill him immediately upon seeing them?"
He leaned back, speaking as if it pained him. "Better to leave this to S.H.I.E.L.D., they're better suited for rescue operations. And the Avengers... if any are available, we'll involve them too."
Several heads nodded in agreement. A few skeptics remained silent, sensing the vice president had no intention of mounting a real rescue.
He didn't give them time to object.
"Contact the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.," he ordered. "Have them begin immediately."
As the room cleared, the vice president's composed mask cracked just enough for a sly smile to slip through.
He already knew the truth.
S.H.I.E.L.D. was in shambles, their headquarters bombed, their resources stretched thin.
And the Avengers? What could they do? Iron Man was surely dead by now, and he was the only one of them who could have made a difference. The Hulk is too uncontrollable, Captain America wouldn't be enough, and Thor was off-world.
No one was coming. No one could save the President.
And that meant only one thing: the Oval Office would be his for the foreseeable future. Sure, in the next elections he would probably lose the position, but if Killian's plans worked, there wouldn't be more elections.
Back at the dock, the silence shattered with the sonic boom of an approaching figure.
Tony Stark arrived in a blur of red and gold, landing with flair in front of the platform.
Killian raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised he was still alive, but otherwise unimpressed. "So you came to die?"
He simply hovered, unmoving.
Then, lights flared across the sky.
One by one, dozens of Iron Man suits flew in and took formation behind him. They glinted like stars over the water.
Killian's smug grin finally faltered.
The three aboard the helicarrier leaned forward, eyes glued to the unfolding spectacle.
Even Wanda, who rarely showed awe, let out a small breath.
"This is better than a movie," she said under her breath.
Sharon grinned, tension fading. "Now that's more like it."
Even Doggo stood on his hind legs briefly, tail wagging with excitement.
But before the fight could start, Sharon's phone buzzed, breaking the moment.
She answered quickly.
Nick Fury's voice came through, weary but urgent. "Sharon... is Consultant Yale with you? Can he answer the phone?"
His voice, once commanding, now carried a hint of vulnerability. With most of S.H.I.E.L.D. in ruins, even the unflappable Nick Fury couldn't hide the toll it had taken.