Tony leaned against the car, hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky that was fragmented by the oak tree's branches and leaves.
He didn't speak, and the habitual, nonchalant expression he wore toward everything had vanished at some point, replaced by a rare quietness.
Thor squatted by the garden fence, showing a keen interest in a cluster of roses.
Mavuika stood by the car, quietly watching the door.
The sunlight shone on her, making her long, golden-red hair shimmer with a warm luster.
Banner leaned his head out of the car, holding a bottle of water.
"How much longer... are they going to talk?"
Tony shrugged. "Who knows? They haven't seen each other in seventy years. If it were me, I'd need to talk for a whole day too."
Banner was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Seventy years... I feel like it's been a long time even for someone I haven't seen in seven months."
No one responded.
There was only the sound of the wind and the distant waves in the air.
This small town on the north shore of Long Island was so quiet it didn't feel like a part of New York.
There was no bustle of Manhattan, no crowding of Brooklyn—only small houses scattered among the trees, neatly manicured lawns, and the occasional car passing by as slowly as a stroll.
When Howard chose this place for Bucky back then, he probably valued this very tranquility.
A man who had been tortured by HYDRA for decades didn't need prosperity; he needed peace.
Time passed slowly.
The Sun moved from overhead to the west, stretching the shadows of the trees.
Tony went to a nearby convenience store to buy a few bottles of water and some sandwiches to share with everyone.
Thor ate three in one go, licking his fingers as if he still wanted more.
The door finally opened.
It was already evening, and the setting Sun dyed the horizon a golden red.
Steve walked out of the house, his eyes slightly red, but his lips wore an expression never seen on his face before—the relief of a heavy burden being lifted, and the preciousness of something lost and found again.
Bucky followed behind him, wearing a faded blue sweater, looking much more relaxed than he had at the door earlier.
His hair was a bit messy, but in those gray-blue eyes, there was a light that had been dormant for decades, finally reignited.
The two stood at the door and shared a look.
Steve gently patted Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky nodded.
Then they walked toward the car together.
Fury stepped out of another car—he had been waiting inside all along, not wanting to disturb the reunion that was seventy years late.
He walked up to Steve and Bucky; his dark face was expressionless, but there was a rare, almost gentle quality in his single eye.
"Finished talking?" he asked.
Steve nodded. "Finished."
Fury was silent for a second.
Then he spoke, his voice not as low and hurried as usual, but rather with a deliberate, slow rhythm.
"Steve, Bucky, there's something I want to talk to you about."
Steve looked at him.
Fury's gaze moved from Steve to Bucky, then to Banner, and finally swept over Tony and the siblings, Mavuika and Thor.
"Actually, it concerns everyone present."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Here we go again?"
Fury ignored his teasing and continued, "You all know that this World is becoming increasingly dangerous. Alien threats, superhuman crime, various disasters we can't predict—S.H.I.E.L.D.'s power is limited; we need help."
He paused.
"I have a plan called the 'Avengers Initiative,' to gather people with special abilities so that when needed, we can face threats together that a single force cannot resolve."
He looked at Steve. "Captain, you are a hero of World War II; you know better than anyone that some battles cannot be won alone."
Steve remained silent.
Fury looked at Bucky. "Bucky, your experiences are more complex than anyone's, but you survived. You have ability, you have experience; the World needs people like you."
Bucky didn't answer immediately; he just glanced at Steve.
Fury turned to Banner, his tone becoming more sincere.
"Dr. Banner, I know your relationship with the Military, and I know you have reservations about official organizations, but I promise you, the Avengers is not a prison, not a laboratory, and not a tool to turn you into a weapon."
He paused.
"We need your mind, and we need your strength, but all of this is built upon your own will."
Banner was silent for a long time.
Fury finally looked at Tony and Mavuika.
"Tony, Your Highness Mavuika, Your Highness Thor, Your Highness Loki—I know you might not be interested, but I still want to formally invite you. The terms are very loose: the Avengers will not restrict the freedom of its members; we only step in to solve problems when needed. Normally, you can do whatever you want and go wherever you want."
He rarely lowered his posture; his tone lacked the air of a S.H.I.E.L.D. Director, carrying instead a sincere, even slightly pleading quality.
"I know you don't need S.H.I.E.L.D., and you don't need the Avengers, but the World needs you."
Silence.
Thor scratched his head and looked at Mavuika.
Loki leaned against the car door, a faint, half-smiling expression on his face, saying nothing.
Tony was the first to speak.
"Director Fury," he said, his tone carrying that habitual, instinctive rejection of any 'organization,' "I've received your sincerity. But—"
He spread his hands.
"I am Iron Man. I can handle most trouble by myself, and for what I can't, I can figure out a way. So, thanks for the invitation, but I'm not interested."
Fury nodded without trying to persuade him.
He had long known Tony would react this way.
Mavuika spoke, her voice calm.
"Director Fury, we siblings are Asgardians. We will not join any organization on Earth. This has nothing to do with sincerity; it's a matter of stance."
Fury nodded. "Alright, I understand."
Thor grinned and spread his hands to show he couldn't help, while Loki bowed slightly, his posture elegant but his refusal clear.
Fury wasn't disappointed—he hadn't expected these 'Gods' to agree in the first place.
His focus had always been on Steve, Bucky, and Banner.
Steve stood there, silent for a long time.
He looked at Fury, and in those blue eyes was something complex that had traveled through seventy years of time.
"Director Fury," he finally spoke, his voice low and steady.
"When I woke up, I saw a completely strange World. My friends were old or dead, and everything I was familiar with was gone."
He paused.
"I thought I would just keep drifting like this, not knowing where to go or what to do."
He looked at Fury.
"But you gave me a direction. Bucky is still alive, and that is a direction. This World needs protecting, and that is also a direction."
He took a deep breath.
"I'm in."