"Sorry—I'm late."
"Ran into a kitten stuck in a tree on the way. You know me. Can't just leave it there."
Natasha stared at him, stunned.
She had to admit—men really did look annoyingly handsome at moments like this, right on the edge between life and death.
"Thanks…" she murmured.
"You're welcome, Miss Romanoff."
Antony dipped his head slightly, his smile warm and effortless.
"And I have to say… from this angle, you're even more charming."
[Special Popularity Gained +10,000 (from Natasha Romanoff)]
The system chime rang out.
Antony's smile widened just a touch.
"Hey!!"
A thoroughly mood-killing voice cut in.
Jessica Jones flew over, arms crossed, her expression pure irritation as she took in the scene.
"Are you done holding her yet?" she rolled her eyes. "This is a global live broadcast. How long are you planning to pose? If this is for publicity, you've already got enough footage for fangirls to edit for the next year."
"Hand her over. You—go do your actual job."
She reached out bluntly, clearly intent on taking Natasha.
"Oh?" Antony replied with a faint, regretful smile.
"This is the job, Jessica. Saving lives always comes first."
Reluctantly, he passed Natasha to her.
"Take care of her. She's one of our soon-to-be recruits."
Jessica caught Natasha, snorted softly.
"Yeah, yeah. I've got her, Bond."
Around them, camera shutters erupted like machine-gun fire.
News helicopters had arrived en masse, searchlights flooding the area until it looked like daylight.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is VNN News!"
"Just moments ago, Homelander performed a breathtaking mid-air rescue!"
"He saved Black Widow—and now, he's facing—"
The cameras swung toward Park Avenue.
The street had transformed into a gladiatorial arena for gods.
Police sirens were drowned out by the roar of helicopter blades. Dozens of news choppers hovered low, beams of light crisscrossing into a blinding web that illuminated the entire block.
Antony descended slowly, landing at the center of the street.
Behind him, the members of the Seven touched down one by one.
Firestar—Angelica—was wreathed in roaring flames, heat distorting the air around her.
A blur snapped into place as Speedball Robbie bounced down like a coiled spring, adopting a defensive stance.
Wanda Maximoff, clad in Vought's newly designed red combat suit, stood with her hands poised, faint crimson ribbons flickering around her fingers. Her gaze searched the battlefield anxiously, as if looking for someone.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," Antony said calmly.
"Pietro's safe. Once we settle this little tantrum, we'll go get your brother out."
"I trust you, Antony," Wanda replied softly, a gentle smile appearing as she watched his back.
After escorting Natasha into an ambulance, Jessica leapt back down beside Antony and leaned in close, whispering:
"Ashley says… don't end this too fast. Vought Studios wants extra footage for the next movie—Homelander 3: Hero Civil War."
About fifty meters away.
Tony Stark hovered three meters above the ground, dozens of Iron Legion drones fanned out behind him, palm repulsors humming in unison.
Thor stood atop a crushed taxi. Mjolnir was gone, but he'd ripped out a streetlamp and gripped it like a makeshift war hammer.
Hawkeye crouched behind cover, a specialized arrow already drawn, its tip locked squarely on Antony's forehead.
The air froze.
Across the world, viewers watching the live broadcast held their breath.
On one side stood Vought's defenders.
On the other—fallen Avengers.
It felt like a changing of the guard. An era colliding with the next.
The entire world was watching.
This was Antony's favorite kind of stage.
He cleared his throat and floated forward just enough to place himself dead center of every camera angle.
"Tony. Thor. Agent Barton."
His voice was low, rich, and carried effortlessly through every microphone on the scene.
There was no anger on his face—only a pained, almost fatherly tolerance.
"I know this isn't who you really are."
He spread his hands, open, inviting.
"Look at you. Earth's former protectors—the Avengers—now pointing weapons at the very city you swore to defend."
Then he turned to the cameras, eyes filled with sorrow.
"Citizens, please don't blame them. They're sick."
"An alien evil—some kind of psychic virus—has taken control of their minds. What you're seeing now is not their true will."
He turned back to Tony, like an adult patiently reasoning with a wayward child.
"So… wake up, Tony. We're not enemies. We're brothers-in-arms."
"We can still do this the old way. Share a glass of eggnog on Christmas Eve. Talk about how to make this world safer."
The speech was heartfelt. Convincing. Perfect.
The livestream chat exploded.
"Homelander is so gentle I'm crying 😭"
"This is what leadership looks like!"
"He's still trying to save them even after betrayal!"
"Avengers wake up!! Please!!"
"I'm a fan for life…"
If this were the real Tony Stark, Antony's popularity meter would already be skyrocketing.
But this Tony belonged to the siren.
"Ha!"
The faceplate slid open, revealing Stark's mocking grin.
"Nice performance, Stars-and-Stripes. Your acting has more layers than your cape."
"But I don't need your eggnog. Or your so-called 'awakening.' I've never been more clear-headed in my life."
His eyes gleamed with obsessive devotion.
"The Queen gave me purpose. And you—" he scanned Antony from head to toe, sneering, "—your hypocrisy rating is higher than S.H.I.E.L.D.'s budget deficit."
He turned sharply.
"Thor. Tell him how we feel."
"For Lorelei!!" Thor roared, fists clenched.
Hawkeye didn't speak. He simply swapped his arrowhead for an explosive tip.
Negotiations were over.
Antony sighed and shook his head.
"What a shame."
He shrugged toward the cameras—I tried, they refused—a flawless PR gesture.
Then—
BOOM!!
A massive impact shook the ground.
Everyone instinctively looked up.
A gigantic green figure crashed down between the two sides like a meteor.
The asphalt shattered. Abandoned cars flipped from the shockwave.
Dust settled.
Hulk straightened up slowly.
He looked… confused.
Big green eyes glanced left.
The blond guy who had slammed him around like a toy.
Then right.
The metal guy who'd been blasting him earlier.
Both were annoying.
Hulk scratched his head, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest as he weighed which one would be more satisfying to smash first.
"Well then…" Antony said calmly, unfazed by Hulk's arrival.
"…I guess I'll just have to knock you all awake."
"I possess power beyond your imagination."
Tony laughed, faceplate snapping shut.
"You have power?"
"That's unfortunate."
He pointed straight ahead.
"Because we have the Hulk."
Zzz—BOOM!
Without warning, Tony fired a full-power repulsor blast straight into Hulk's back.
The world seemed to pause.
Everyone froze.
Even Antony blinked.
Wait—what?
This wasn't the script.
Was Tony out of his mind? Already facing enough enemies—and he decides to provoke the one uncontrollable monster on the field?
Was he trying to end the city?
Has Tony completely lost it?
--------------
T/N:
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