"That wasn't something I could've solved alone."
Captain America spoke with quiet frustration. He was not a mutant—what right or position did he have to lead a resistance against humanity on their behalf? Even as the symbolic leader of superheroes, he could not insert himself into the conflict between humans and mutants.
"Exactly. No matter which side you help, you become the villain to the other—so you choose to do nothing at all."
Cyclops struck directly at Steve's greatest weakness.
For the first time, he felt free of the towering shadow of Captain America's legend.
From this moment forward, Scott Summers no longer believed any human would truly fight for mutant rights.
"Scott, I came here with a solution. You have to trust me."
Steve still tried—desperately—to salvage the negotiations.
But in an atmosphere this volatile, his words carried no weight.
"Then allow me—respectfully—to ask you to get out of my school."
Cyclops' voice was cold, decisive.
The students behind him erupted in cheers.
Captain America felt the situation spiraling out of control.
He stepped forward, trying to keep Scott from walking away—but to the already-on-edge crowd, the gesture looked threatening.
A fireball blasted forward.
One of the young mutants—Pyro—had hurled it straight at Captain America.
Steve reacted instantly, raising his shield to block the attack.
For a frontline veteran of countless battles, such ambushes barely registered.
But today he wasn't simply Steve Rogers—he was the President of the United States.
And that changed everything.
"Protect the President!"
Two soldiers threw themselves in front of Steve and opened fire, sweeping the students with automatic weapons. Several were hit instantly—mutants without any defensive abilities—just as helpless as they had been under the Sentinel attack.
Two exchanged attacks.
And just like that—
War erupted.
The accompanying U.S. troops unleashed full firepower.
Gunfire tore across the courtyard.
Above them, the backup S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier descended—recently repurposed as the new Avengers headquarters on Tony Stark's suggestion.
Unfortunately, its appearance only made things worse.
To the mutants, the image was unmistakable:
The government had brought the same kind of weapon that massacred their classmates.
This was not diplomacy—this was invasion.
Pent-up fury exploded.
Mutants unleashed their powers like a rising tide. Energy blasts, fire, ice, lightning—the courtyard became a battlefield in seconds.
"Everyone stop!" Steve bellowed.
But gunfire drowned out his voice.
Several soldiers tried to drag him back toward the armored limousine.
He shoved them away.
"Get off me! I'm not the one who needs protection—they are!"
At that moment, Cyclops attacked.
A blazing beam of ruby energy shot from his visor, aimed directly at Steve's head.
It would knock him unconscious instantly—maybe kill him outright if unrestrained.
But a figure stepped between them.
General Thaddeus Ross.
The beam struck him full force.
His uniform vaporized in strips—revealing the muscular frame beneath.
But his skin remained completely unscathed.
"Ross!" Steve grabbed him in alarm—only to realize Ross was unharmed.
"Captain, this isn't something you fix by talking."
Ross's voice was calm—terrifyingly calm.
"As always, you must decide which side you stand on. Unfortunately… today, neither side is fully right. This is our punishment for ignoring the mutant crisis for decades."
Then he stepped forward—
And transformed.
His skin flushed red.
Muscles ballooned monstrously.
Within seconds, Ross became a towering behemoth—a Hulk-sized titan whose cold, expressionless face stood in stark contrast to Bruce Banner's savage rage.
The Red Hulk had entered the battlefield.
Cyclops roared and fired again—an even more intense blast.
The sky turned crimson under its glow.
Red Hulk walked straight through it.
Unhindered.
Uninjured.
Growing stronger with every step.
"Thanks for the energy," he growled.
Then swung a single massive palm—sending Cyclops flying like a ragdoll.
Unlike the green Hulk, whose strength rises with anger, Ross in his Red Hulk form absorbed energy—radiation, cosmic waves, lasers, anything of that nature. Cyclops' optic blasts were practically fuel to him.
Empowered, Red Hulk surged into the mutant ranks.
Bullets bounced off him.
Energy attacks only fed him more power.
Every punch—carrying over 100 tons of force—generated shockwaves that shattered walls.
Any mutant hit directly was obliterated.
The battlefield turned blood-red under his rampage.
And despite this overwhelming advantage, Steve Rogers felt no triumph.
Only despair.
"Why… why did it come to this? I only wanted to talk…"
He muttered to himself, helplessly watching the massacre unfold.
Gunfire roared.
Explosions tore through the academy grounds.
The scent of blood filled the air.
This was no longer a conflict that could be halted with a single order.
The moment the first body fell, restraint vanished.
Now there was only one possible ending:
One side survives.
The other doesn't.
_____
T/N:
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