Dave’s words carried weight, calm but final, as he looked around the room.
"So," he said evenly. "Do we go to their world, strike first, and make sure they can’t threaten Earth again? Or do we sit here, waiting for them to return with another Planet Buster and gamble everything on being ready in time?"
Tony rubbed his chin, the glow from his HUD reflecting in his eyes. "Option A: survive. Option B: start an interstellar war. Not exactly great choices. And seriously, if we hit their world—what’s the plan after that? What happens when their neighbors show up?"
Shuri folded her arms. "He’s right. Striking their home could ripple across the galaxy. They’re not the only empire out there. A move like that could pull in enemies we don’t even know exist."
Rhodey leaned forward. "But you can’t deny the point. They came here planning to wipe us out. That wasn’t a bluff. If we give them time, they’ll regroup and try again. Stopping them at the source may be the only way to keep Earth safe."
Steve’s voice was steady. "You’re talking about more than soldiers. You’re talking about civilians. Families. Destroying an entire world makes us no different than them."
Dave’s eyes locked onto him. "And if holding back costs billions of human lives? Would you tell the dead that your conscience was clean, that you hesitated while Earth burned?"
The tension grew heavier.
Natasha finally spoke, her tone calm but sharp. "There’s another way. We don’t destroy them outright. We cripple them—take their fleets, their weapons, their ability to strike. Make them bleed enough that Earth is no longer worth the risk."
Dave studied her for a moment, then gave a short nod. "And if that isn’t enough?"
"Then we make it enough," Natasha replied.
Tony exhaled. "Alright, let’s keep it simple: ’Team Wipe Them Out’ versus ’Team Hit Them Hard and Walk Away.’ Either way, we’re not getting out of this without a fight."
Steve straightened. "War may be unavoidable. But how we choose to fight—that’s what matters. If we abandon everything that makes us different from them, then Earth is already lost."
The room went still. The divide was clear—Dave pushing for decisive elimination, Steve refusing to cross that line.
Then the comms chimed.
"Alert: Unidentified warship detected. Orbiting Neptune. Energy signature matches Planet Buster class."
Everyone turned to the holographic feed.
Tony leaned back slightly. "Well, looks like you were right. They didn’t take losing their scouts very well."
Steve’s eyes narrowed. "Another ship. Bigger. Stronger."
Dave didn’t react. His voice was steady. "Expected. Scouts disappear, they send something heavier. That’s how they test resistance. And that’s fine. I wanted them to."
The hologram zoomed in, showing the vessel’s reinforced hull and multiple weapon pods. Its presence alone marked it as a warship, far above the earlier ones.
Tony whistled softly. "That’s no scout. That’s a battleship. And judging by the weapons, it’s built to do damage."
Steve adjusted his grip on the shield at his side. "So what’s the move? Do we intercept, or wait for them to make the first strike?"
Dave answered without hesitation. "We intercept. If they came for war, then we end it on our terms, not theirs."
Tony’s hands moved across his interface, drones already launching into position. "Good. I’ll sync the satellites, deploy the defense grid, and start digging into their systems. Big ship or not, everything has a weak spot."
"Good," Dave repeated, watching the warship on the projection. "Let them come. Once they realize Earth isn’t prey, they’ll think twice before ever coming back."
Tony glanced at his own feeds, then smirked. "Sensors just lit up. They’re not sitting idle. Hiding just past Neptune’s shadow, trying to keep out of sight. Too bad for them, my eyes reach that far."
The hologram shifted, magnifying the massive ship lurking beyond Neptune. Its engines pulsed faintly, its weapons already powering up.
Steve’s voice was steady. "They’re charging weapons."
Dave’s expression didn’t change. "Then they’ve already made their choice. Now it’s our turn."
The hologram flickered again, highlighting the massive Kree ship still lurking near Neptune. Its hull shimmered faintly as strange energy waves pulsed outward, scanning the system in wide arcs.
Dave stood silent, watching, his arms folded. Then he glanced at Tony.
Tony grinned, already pulling up a control sequence. One of his orbital satellites—sleek, bristling with Stark-grade cannons—powered up with a deep, thrumming hum. A line of blue energy rippled from Earth’s orbit, arcing across the projection feed like a spear of light.
"My TURBO Blaster is hot and standing by," Tony said, tapping a final command. He leaned back, cocky smirk tugging at his lips. "One shot from this baby, and that ship out by Neptune won’t even have time to realize it existed. I can fire anytime." ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel·fıre·net
Dave’s eyes stayed locked on the Kree vessel, his face unreadable. Slowly, he gave a single nod.
"Not yet," he said quietly. "Let’s wait. See what they do. If they make the wrong move—" his voice darkened, steady as iron, "—we wipe them out."
The room fell silent, only the low hum of Stark’s weapon systems filling the air.
Steve shifted uneasily, tightening his shield across his arm as his gaze stayed fixed on the projection. "They’re holding position for now... watching us."
"Good," Dave replied. His tone was calm, but his aura carried that same cold certainty. "That means they still think they have the upper hand. Let’s prove them wrong on our terms."
The Kree destroyer turned slightly, its weapon ports beginning to glow faintly, like the calm before a storm.
Tony’s smirk faded just a fraction. "...Okay, that looks a lot like they’re charging up."
Dave’s eyes narrowed, his fists tightening. "Then let’s see if their fire can reach us before ours reaches them."
The hologram suddenly crackled. A signal override surged through Stark’s projection, forcing every display to flicker and rearrange. The sleek image of the Kree warship dissolved into static—then sharpened into the stern, blue-skinned face of a Kree commander.
The being’s expression was cold, proud, with ridged markings across his chin. His armor gleamed with the deep steel-blue and silver of the Kree High Command. His golden eyes scanned the Avengers’ chamber as though he were staring into it directly, unbothered by the technological barrier between them.
"Humans," his voice boomed, deep and unyielding. "You dare aim weapons at the fleets of the Kree Empire? You dare raise yourselves as if you are equals?"
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