"Morning, Captain!" Peter was the first to greet him, eyes bright.
Veyric didn't sit. He took stock of the room.
Peter occupied the right side of the table, nursing a cup of instant coffee he'd scrounged from God knew where, stirring it with absent-minded half-turns of the spoon.
Blade stood in the corner, arms crossed, shoulder against the wall. A silent statue.
Beast sat at the far end, buried behind handwritten notes and data sheets. From the look of him, sleep had been optional last night.
Colossus had claimed the left side, metal fingers tapping the tabletop in a steady, rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk.
Black Widow, all in white today, stood by the doorway watching him.
Looking at the six of them, the most logical choice for captain was... well, him. Whether he liked it or not.
"Since everyone wants to talk next steps, I'll share what I've been thinking."
A deep breath.
"We have six people, a base, and the Arc Reactor keeping the lights on. The squad's finally starting to look like something. But our situation is still dire."
His gaze moved across every face in the room.
"Out there is the entirety of zombie New York, including a significant number of superpowered undead. Six people, no matter how capable, can't go toe-to-toe with that head-on."
Nods around the table.
"So here's my proposal."
Veyric reached toward the holographic display and swiped across it, pulling up a map of New York.
"We don't fight them head-on. We go guerrilla."
"Guerrilla?" Colossus tilted his head.
"Yeah." Veyric tapped several points on the map. "Given our current situation, I have to give you a quick history lesson from my country."
"In the early twentieth century, there was an army that started with a few hundred soldiers. Poorly equipped, badly outnumbered, facing an enemy force in the millions."
"But they didn't pick a straight fight. They retreated into the mountains, built their numbers piece by piece. Over twenty years, a few hundred became a few million, and they won the entire war."
"As the saying goes: a single spark can start a prairie fire."
The words came out with real conviction, and somewhere in the back of his mind, a wave of surreality washed over him. He was standing in an underground bunker lecturing Marvel superheroes on modern history. He couldn't have dreamed this up if he'd tried.
Fortunately, his audience seemed receptive.
Peter scratched his chin, something turning behind his eyes. Natasha regarded Veyric with an approving look.
"Interesting history." Beast twirled a pen between his fingers. "A textbook case of the weaker force prevailing."
Encouraged, Veyric pressed on.
"Based on where we stand, there are a few priorities we need to lock down."
"First: stealth operations. Our existence stays hidden, and my healing ability stays secret above all else. The moment the zombie population finds out about us, we won't be dealing with scattered threats. We'll have all of New York bearing down on this bunker."
The mood in the room shifted. Faces hardened.
"Second: divide and conquer. We send recon teams out to gather intel, identify isolated zombie heroes, then plan targeted strikes. Cure them one by one."
Veyric looked at Peter, Blade, and Black Widow.
"Field reconnaissance and combat ops fall to you three. Peter, your mobility is unmatched. You can scout wide areas fast. Blade, you're built for solo operations and tracking. Natasha..."
He paused.
"Your intelligence analysis and tactical planning are what we need most."
Black Widow said nothing. A small nod. That was enough.
"Third: base expansion."
He turned to Beast and Colossus.
"The bunker's facilities are serviceable for now, but our numbers will grow. Cured heroes need housing, equipment, training space. There's plenty of open ground around the bunker perimeter, and the structural layout supports expansion. Hank, you're in charge of drafting the construction plans. Colossus, the heavy lifting's all yours."
Colossus cracked a wide grin and squeezed his fist. Metal rang against metal.
"Consider it done."
"Last thing." Veyric's expression turned serious. "Starting today, everyone who goes outside wears a comm unit. Channels stay open at all times. The command room stays manned around the clock."
He looked at Beast.
"Hank, can you handle comms on top of your research?"
"No problem." Beast nodded. "I'll be in the lab with your blood samples anyway. I'll keep the relay right next to me. Instant response."
"Then we're set." Veyric brought his palm down on the table. "All teams start today. Anything comes up, report over comms immediately."
He'd said it all in one breath and nearly ran out of air.
Nerves crept in as he scanned the room, heart hammering. Half of him expected one of these actual superheroes to poke a hole in his plan.
"Copy that!" Peter was first on his feet.
The rest followed with looks that landed somewhere between impressed and pleasantly surprised.
"Well, well." Natasha strolled forward, arms crossed, a smile playing on her lips. "Didn't expect it, Veyric, but you make a pretty good captain."
"Told you!" Peter's voice practically vibrated. "I knew it."
Veyric rubbed the back of his neck. "Come on. I learned all of it from watching people like you."
That wasn't flattery or false modesty. He'd grown up steeped in superhero stories. Their way of thinking had shaped his own, whether he realized it or not.
"One more thing, Natasha. I have a favor to ask."
"What kind of favor?"
"Train me."
He held her gaze.
"Close-quarters combat. Firearms. You saw yesterday how bad I was in a fight. I need to get better, fast."
A breath.
"Out of everyone here, compared to the other four, you're the one best suited to teach me."
Natasha's eyebrow rose a fraction. The request had caught her off guard.
She studied him for several seconds. He didn't look away. The resolve in his eyes didn't waver.
"I can do that. But fair warning: the training won't be gentle."
"I'm not asking for gentle."
"And I won't go easy on you because you're the captain."
"I'm not expecting you to."
Two seconds of silence. The corner of her mouth curved upward.
"Fine... This afternoon at the training room."
She turned toward the door, took two steps, and stopped. A half-glance over her shoulder.
"One more thing."
Something dangerous crept into her tone.
"In my class, nobody leaves early."
Veyric laughed. "No problem. Where I come from, teachers never let you leave on time anyway."
Natasha glanced back at him, a cryptic smile on her lips.
Then she walked out, red hair swaying behind her.
Veyric watched her go and let out a long, slow exhale.
The days ahead were going to be busy.