Before the other superheroes could arrive, Marcus let Hawkeye make a few more attempts against Black Panther. Unsurprisingly, no matter what kind of arrow he used, not a single one could pierce that impenetrable vibranium armor.
'Fine,' Marcus thought dryly. 'At least I know his weakness now—electricity. Next time, I'll just give him a full course of one hundred thousand volts. That should make him more cooperative.'
Moments later, the sound of distant explosions drew Black Widow to the scene. When she arrived, she was greeted by the sight of Black Panther twitching helplessly inside a glowing electric net while Hawkeye stood nearby, looking rather pleased with himself.
"Look, Natasha," Hawkeye said with a smirk, gesturing toward his captive. "I caught an intruder. You wouldn't believe how tough this guy's armor is—had to trap him in an electric net just to keep him still."
Black Widow shot him an unimpressed glare. "Maybe next time you could ask before you start shooting? That 'intruder' happens to be the King of Wakanda, who volunteered to help us after hearing about the zombie outbreak."
"Wait, he's a king?" Hawkeye's smirk froze instantly, replaced by a strained grimace.
Meanwhile, Black Widow crouched beside the still-twitching Black Panther and carefully deactivated the electric field. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," she said apologetically. "Agent Barton was trapped in Queens for a while and didn't receive the latest mission briefings. Please forgive this misunderstanding."
Too paralyzed to speak, T'Challa could only groan faintly in response — which, in a way, was probably the only reason Hawkeye managed to avoid an immediate diplomatic incident.
---
At that same moment, high above the chaos, Director Nick Fury and the other heroes had completed their sweep of the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Every last Hydra infiltrator had been exposed and neutralized. Now, on the top floor, Fury stood before a series of flickering holographic projections — the members of the World Security Council, convened in emergency session.
A well-dressed, silver-haired man in his fifties spoke first. "Director Fury, congratulations on uncovering Hydra's treachery. I must admit, I never imagined their infiltration ran this deep… even Pierce himself."
Fury cast a cold glance at the lifeless body of Alexander Pierce, lying in a pool of blood nearby. "Neither did I," he said evenly. "But what's done is done. Let's focus on what comes next."
"Quite right." A second figure — a stern-faced woman with a distinct Russian accent — leaned forward in her chair. "Director Fury, if the United States fails to contain this… zombie crisis, or if there is any sign the virus has breached your quarantine perimeter, I will personally authorize a nuclear strike on New York. For the sake of humanity."
Fury nodded grimly. "Understood. For now, the infected remain fully contained within the quarantine zone. The virus hasn't spread beyond it. I intend to make sure your warheads never leave their silos."
The Russian representative didn't look convinced. "I hope your confidence isn't misplaced."
Fury continued, his tone firm and unwavering. "We've mobilized the U.S. Navy's First, Second, and Sixth Carrier Strike Groups. All three fleets will arrive in New York Harbor by August 15th — three days from now. They'll coordinate with the Army for a full-scale sweep-and-burn operation. Once the offensive begins, no infected creature will remain standing. You have my word."
Marcus, listening in through Hawkeye's enhanced hearing, was stunned.
Three carrier groups?
That meant dozens of warships, hundreds of aircraft, and thousands of missiles — the kind of firepower capable of leveling entire nations.
"Three days," Marcus murmured to himself. "You people don't even follow the laws of logistics anymore, do you?"
Still, the news had the intended effect. The council members visibly relaxed. The scale of the military response was overwhelming — enough, perhaps, to inspire false confidence.
Yet one representative raised a valid concern. "Director Fury, forgive me, but according to your own intelligence, this virus may have originated from Hydra's research. If that's the case, we'll be facing not only the infected but Hydra's genetically engineered assassins as well. What preparations have you made for that?"
"That's a fair question," Fury replied. "Given the risk of further mutation, I've prohibited participation from enhanced individuals such as Captain America or the Hulk."
He brought up the Avengers roster on his tablet, crossing out each name that qualified as "non-human." Then he looked back at the council with renewed determination.
"However," he continued, "we're not without allies. We've already received aid from other non-mutated heroes — including King T'Challa of Wakanda, who has come personally to assist, and Sam Wilson, the Falcon, who's agreed to come out of retirement. We still have plenty of heroes who can fight — and win."
Marcus frowned from afar. So that's why the timeline's all messed up. The zombie crisis had escalated into a global threat, and heroes who shouldn't have appeared yet — Black Panther, Falcon — had entered the stage early. For humanity, it was a sign of hope. For Marcus, it was a problem.
Fury pressed on. "And to ensure further security, I've extended an invitation to another powerful ally — someone whose assistance could prove invaluable."
A new holographic image flickered to life beside the council members: a dignified bald man seated in a wheelchair, his calm eyes radiating both intelligence and compassion.
Professor Charles Xavier — leader of the X-Men.
"Good afternoon, everyone," the professor greeted politely, his voice smooth and reassuring. "It's an honor to join this discussion."
"The honor's ours, Professor," Fury replied respectfully.
Marcus felt a chill run through him. Of course. If the professor's involved, then the X-Men are coming too.
Xavier folded his hands, his expression grave but resolute. "Humanity and mutantkind must stand together in times like these," he said. "I'll bring several of my students aboard the carrier fleet. We'll provide long-range psychic support and assist with containment as best we can. Let's put an end to this catastrophe before it consumes us all."
For the council, his words were reassuring — a symbol of unity and hope.
For Marcus, they were a nightmare.
Because with the Avengers, the X-Men, and the entire U.S. military joining forces… humanity's plan to reclaim New York was no longer just a response.
It was war.
And this time, Marcus was on the wrong side of it.
____
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