The entire control room turned toward Tony Stark, who had just offered the most obvious tech support solution in history.
Then collective realization.
"…Right!" Fury snapped. "Restart it!"
The agent manning the console nodded furiously and hit the restart command.
The system didn't budge.
He tried again, but still nothing.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple. The confidence he'd had a moment ago was vanishing fast. He turned to face Nick Fury, his expression pale. "Sir... it's not responding."
On the adjacent screen, the radar display flashed urgently.
The unknown flying object, the one they tried to shoot down, was now right on top of them.
The helicarrier, nine kilometers above sea level, was supposed to be the most secure mobile base in existence.
It had no working weapons, no defenses, no plan.
Outside, the air was so thin that even the most elite agents would lose consciousness in minutes without gear.
Inside the command center, everyone's gaze instinctively turned to Tony Stark and Thor.
One had a suit that could fly and withstand zero-pressure altitudes. While the other was a literal god.
They were the only two onboard who could go out there without dropping dead.
Tony didn't hesitate. He turned and strode confidently toward the room where his armor was kept.
As he walked, the corner of his mouth lifted into a small smirk.
This was his favorite kind of moment, all eyes on him, watching with admiration, desperation, and awe.
"Guess it's showtime," he muttered to himself, savoring every step.
But just as Tony was about to disappear around the corner, a nervous gasp came from one of the console agents.
Fury spun around. The agent pointed to a screen.
A single line of text had appeared across every monitor in the room:
"Don't panic. I'm already on the deck."
Fury blinked. "What the hell...?"
Everyone rushed to the window.
And there, emerging from the cloud layer below, a yellow sports car rose into view like some kind of futuristic chariot.
A yellow Chevrolet Camaro, retro-styled, unmistakable.
But unlike any Camaro ever built, this one had sleek red wings on each side, and jet boosters roaring beneath its chassis, spewing fire like a rocket.
It floated calmly toward the helicarrier, engine humming as it gently touched down on the deck.
Instantly, the room's tension dropped several notches.
Most of the agents recognized the car immediately.
"This… isn't this the Camaro from the photo with Captain Rogers?"
"You mean the POSS incident?"
A few agents even chuckled nervously, remembering the mass confusion that ensued from that viral picture, more than a few female agents had a poster of it in their rooms, even a few male agents, including Coulson, who was the Captain's biggest fanboy.
At the front of the room, Fury groaned quietly and muttered, "Stark…"
Tony froze mid-stride, still walking like a hero into battle.
"You don't need to go," Fury said dryly.
Tony paused. "What? Why not?"
Fury simply pointed toward the window.
Tony turned, and saw the Camaro's driver-side door open.
Out stepped a slim young man in a hoodie, glasses reflecting the sunlight, holding the leash of a fat, fluffy Husky as if they were just taking a casual morning walk.
The entire control room went silent.
Even the computers seemed to hum a little quieter.
Someone whispered, "…How high are we again?"
"Nine kilometers," a colleague answered in a daze.
"…Is there even oxygen out there?"
Heads turned back to the window.
Luke was standing on the deck like it was a sidewalk, his dog happily wagging its tail beside him. Neither of them wore any breathing equipment.
What the hell was this man made of?
How was he even alive?
How could his car fly, and why was he so chill about all of this?
On the deck, Luke closed the car door and took a deep breath.
"Mmm... air feels great up here," he said to himself.
The wind tugged at his hoodie, and the view before him was breathtaking, miles of clouds stretching in every direction, with nothing but blue sky and sunlight above.
He didn't understand why everyone made a big deal about altitude.
If anything, it was refreshing.
In his mind, the system chimed:
[Ding! The air around you senses it is needed. Oxygen levels have automatically adjusted for your convenience.]
[Ding! Your pet dog appears to be struggling to breathe. Awakening passive ability: "Void Survival", allows survival without external oxygen for up to 10 days.]
"…Huh," he muttered. "Neat."
Doggo barked once, tail wagging happily.
Together, they strolled across the deck like they were in Central Park, completely ignoring the shocked stares from inside.
Inside the control room, a stunned silence continued.
It felt like reality had shifted sideways.
One junior agent leaned toward another and whispered, "Is he sightseeing right now?"
"…I think he is," the other whispered back.
Nick Fury was still processing what he saw when the intercom buzzed. A voice came through from the security post at the lower entrance hatch.
It sounded… confused.
"Uh, Director?" the guard said. "There's a guy knocking on the door from the deck. Should we… open it?"