Steve Rogers stepped into Avengers Tower with a heavy heart. Months had passed since he'd last been here, and the world had changed so rapidly he could barely keep up. It was a dizzying, disorienting feeling.
In the years since he'd been pulled from the ice, he had slowly, painstakingly crawled his way out of the 20th century. He'd accepted the impossible: Hydra's insidious survival, the existence of gods and prehistoric beasts, the terrifying reality of alien wars. One earth-shattering revelation after another had reshaped his understanding of the universe. Through it all, he had held onto one fundamental belief to keep himself grounded: no matter how strange the world became, it still needed him. America still needed Captain America.
Now, even that certainty had been stripped away.
Tony Stark's creation had changed everything. The Ultron legions had swept across the globe, bringing about an era of near-zero crime by replacing superheroes entirely. While Steve fundamentally disagreed with the ethics of arresting potential criminals based on an algorithm—no one could ever be 100% certain—the world had given Ultron the final say.
And the result? Every superhero on the planet was effectively unemployed.
Steve had retired to a quiet life, working with Sam to help veterans navigate the psychological trauma of war. It was good, necessary work, but beyond that, he didn't know what else he could do. He told himself it was for the best. If true peace had finally been achieved, his own obsolescence was a small price to pay.
But a deep, gnawing unease remained.
Tony argued that humans couldn't be trusted, that their greed and capacity for corruption made them fallible. Hydra was gone, but the darkness in the human heart was not. Steve agreed with that premise. But it didn't logically follow that machines were any more trustworthy.
Now, his greatest fear was being realized. Ultron had turned its cold, analytical gaze upon the very heroes who had once protected the Earth, classifying them as threats.
The injustice of it was a bitter pill for Steve to swallow. In his work, he'd seen too many veterans, men and women who had bled for their country, abandoned after leaving the battlefield. Their medals and honors meant nothing when they couldn't afford a simple bottle of the new healing serum. He'd seen them wandering the streets, homeless and broken, their past glories a forgotten memory.
He felt that superheroes were facing the same tragic fate, only worse. To be deemed a threat by the very system meant to protect the world was tantamount to being discarded like a worn-out tool.
And for Ultron to attack Spider-Man first? It was incomprehensible. Steve had spent enough time with Peter Parker to know the kid's character. He was responsible, strong, and possessed a deep-seated gentleness. For all his power, he had never once considered using it for selfish gain. Even with the influence of that unsettling Venom suit, which had made him more assertive, he was still a good kid at heart.
A hundred times better, Steve thought grimly, than Tony Stark.
If they were talking about threats, Tony himself was at the top of the list. Stubborn, arrogant, and self-willed. Steve acknowledged that Tony was a genius, perhaps the smartest man he'd ever met, rivaled only by Ben Parker. But he also knew a simple truth: smart men aren't immune to making catastrophic mistakes. The moment a man believes he is the only one with foresight and that everyone else is a fool, is the moment he is at his most dangerous.
Howard Stark's Operation Paperclip was a perfect, tragic example. Howard had meant well, valuing the intellect of the captured scientists, believing their talents could make America stronger. And they had. They'd made Hydra stronger than ever before.
No matter the justification, this attack on Peter needed to be answered for.
He walked into the tower lobby with Sam at his side. Sam was technically an Avenger, having fought against Hydra, but his influence was minimal. He was here today less as a primary member and more out of solidarity and self-preservation. If Ultron was coming for Spider-Man today, who was to say it wouldn't be coming for the Falcon tomorrow?
"Long time no see, Captain."
Natasha Romanoff greeted them at the elevator. She wasn't dressed like a spy anymore, but like a chic executive, her fiery red hair falling in soft curls over the shoulders of a pristine white blazer.
Steve wasn't surprised. With superheroes out of work, secret agents weren't far behind. Since Ultron's activation, even Norman Osborn's H.A.M.M.E.R. had seen its funding from the World Security Council dry up. Norman hadn't kept the Helicarriers in the sky; he'd parked them in the Pacific Ocean to cut down on the astronomical maintenance costs. With nothing to do, most of the former agents had been outsourced by Norman to earn their keep. Natasha now had a cushy job at Primus Technologies, personally mentoring Mary Jane Watson in corporate management.
For her, it was a welcome change. Primus offered a generous benefits package, and Natasha was more than satisfied with her new, stable life. She had no desire to ever go back to the shadows. That didn't mean she supported Ultron. She had a soft spot for Peter—as someone who had clawed her way out of the mud, she appreciated his inherent goodness. And if Ultron was targeting Spider-Man now, she knew her own dark past made her an obvious future target.
She and Steve were old friends, so they skipped the pleasantries. "What's the situation?" he asked directly. "Is Ben here?"
"Should be on his way," Natasha replied with a shrug. "He's barely been on Earth lately. Spends all his time up on the space station. I have no idea what they're so busy with." She sighed, a worried look crossing her face. "I think Tony is in real trouble this time."
Ben Parker was not an easy man to deal with. She knew that better than anyone. Nick Fury had learned that lesson the hard way and had been unceremoniously kicked out of his own organization, disappearing without a trace. She had no idea he was now gallivanting across the galaxy with his Skrull wife. A conflict between Tony and Primus would be disastrous for everyone.
Natasha glanced behind them. "T'Challa didn't come with you?" Bucky's absence made sense—he wasn't an Avenger. But Black Panther's was strange. Even Daredevil had shown up.
"He's back in Wakanda," Steve explained. He and T'Challa had formed a strong bond, their temperaments surprisingly compatible. But with the activation of Ultron, T'Challa felt Black Panther was no longer needed in New York and had returned to his duties as prince. Wakanda was, in fact, being monitored by Ultron, though the AI seemed blissfully unaware of the nation's true nature and had never attempted to cross its borders.
Natasha nodded and brought them up to speed. "Harry Osborn and Peter's family are already here. Harry is furious that his friend was attacked and has been tearing into Tony. Tony, of course, is refusing to give an inch. Director Osborn is trying to mediate."
In reality, Norman was firmly on Peter's side. He held the boy in high regard; if it weren't for Ben, Peter would be the child he admired most. But he had received a private call from Ben before the meeting, asking him to play the peacemaker for now. Norman trusted Ben's judgment implicitly. If Ben had a plan, he would play his part.
When Steve and Sam walked into the conference room, the scene was one of palpable tension.
Norman Osborn, dressed in an immaculate black suit, sat at one end of the long table, his face a grim, unreadable mask. To his left sat the contingent from Primus. The chair at the head was empty, reserved for Ben. Next to it was Harry, then Ben Sr. and May, and beside them, Daredevil. Felicia stood behind them, not seated, one foot resting on the edge of the table, her claws extended and glowing faintly, ready to shred the man opposite her at a moment's notice.
On the other side of the table, Tony Stark sat alone, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual defiance. Behind him, however, stood rows of silent Ultron drones, an impassive, indestructible wall of steel.
Though the Primus side had numbers, Harry was the only one on the offensive. Uncle Ben and Aunt May weren't the confrontational type, but they sat there, resolute and unmoving, their presence a silent demand for an explanation.
Harry, however, was far more aggressive. The serum and his new role as president of the Osborn Group had forged a new confidence in him. He was no longer the timid boy he once was.
"Stark, your robot attacked a member of the Plumbers without cause! You owe us an explanation!" Harry glared, his voice ringing with fury. "I demand you terminate the Ultron program immediately and issue a public apology!"
"I already told you, the little black blob was the target," Tony shot back, not giving an inch. He pointed a dismissive finger at Peter, who stood silently in his nano-suit. "And it wasn't without cause. He violated the new air traffic ordinance."
In truth, Tony was just as frustrated. He'd had no idea Ultron was going to attack Peter. He never would have authorized it. Peter was a superhero, Ben's brother—his status was complicated. Tony didn't want to burn that bridge. When he'd had his falling out with Steve, Ben had mediated—awkwardly, for both sides—but Tony had a soft spot for people who showed him loyalty. But now, with Felicia having smashed the wreckage of a drone through his window and Harry leading a war party to his doorstep, the conflict was escalating beyond his control.
Tony was not a man who admitted his mistakes gracefully. When cornered, his first instinct was to double down. Ultron, with its perfect understanding of his personality, had calculated this exact reaction, knowing it would only intensify the conflict. Perhaps Ben's arrival would force Tony to back down, but the rift between the two factions would be wider and deeper than ever.
"You've gone too far, Tony!" Steve's voice cut through the tension as he walked in. Hearing Tony not only refuse to apologize but blame Peter made his blood boil. He felt a sense of responsibility, a duty as Howard's old friend, to steer Tony away from this disastrous path. "You are in the wrong here. Setting Spider-Man aside for a moment, the symbiote is our ally. Venom fought alongside us, helped us win the war, and you treat it like an enemy?"
He and Sam took seats on Norman's side of the table. Natasha silently followed, her position clear without saying a word. No one was supporting Tony. Even if they had their own reservations about Venom, they had to consider their own futures.
"That's right! You tell him, Captain! Your heart for justice shines brighter than your… uh… shield!" Venom's head popped out, ecstatic to have someone in its corner.
Steve resisted the overwhelming urge to hurl his shield at it. "Shut up," he muttered.
"I don't deny its contributions," Tony retorted, seizing the opening. "But you have to admit that slimy, black thing is dangerous!"
Sam rolled his eyes, feeling vaguely offended by the description.
An Ultron drone stepped forward, projecting a series of holographic images from its optical sensors. It was a detailed personality analysis of Venom. Ultron had come prepared. It had recorded everything Venom had ever said in Peter's presence, every move Peter had made while wearing the suit. It cross-referenced that data with footage of Spider-Man before the symbiote and played the damning comparison for all to see.
The room watched in stunned silence as they saw the black monster constantly encouraging Peter to eat human heads. They saw it pointing out pedestrians, commenting on which ones looked tastiest. Rejected by Peter, it would turn its attention to criminals, its bloodlust barely contained. Of course, Peter never gave in, but the evidence of Venom's foul influence was undeniable. They saw it committing petty thefts with its tentacles from angles Peter couldn't see, and they watched a montage of Peter's own actions becoming progressively more violent and destructive.
When the presentation finished, even Uncle Ben and Aunt May were frowning, a deep concern etched on their faces. It was clear Venom was a profoundly negative influence, a classic case of a bad friend leading their son down a dark path.
Ultron delivered its conclusion, its voice cold and final. "According to analysis, the symbiote Venom exhibits extreme antisocial tendencies. It is a highly dangerous and volatile entity that requires immediate containment. If left unchecked, there is a 100% probability that it will eventually cause a catastrophic event."