"Director," Maria Hill said, glancing over from her console, "Coulson's team has the media in place. What's our official statement?"
Nick Fury didn't hesitate.
"Not vampires."
Hill blinked. "Then what are we calling it?"
Fury folded his arms. "If we confirm vampires exist, people are going to start asking questions. Why they've never heard of them. What governments knew. What deals were made."
He let that hang for a second.
"And once that thread gets pulled, it doesn't stop. You get panic. You get copycats. People actively seeking them out, hoping for immortality."
Hill's expression shifted.
She hadn't considered that angle.
"So what's the alternative?"
Fury's voice was flat.
"We've used it before. We'll use it again."
He looked at the screen.
"Mutants."
Hill hesitated. "That's… going to upset Professor Xavier."
"If this situation had gone differently," Fury replied, "we'd be asking for his help right now."
He turned slightly.
"Sometimes stability comes at a cost."
Hill exhaled quietly. "Understood."
On the street—
Noah stood in the aftermath.
The air still smelled like iron.
Blood soaked the pavement in every direction.
And surrounding him—
Cameras.
Microphones.
Reporters pushing in from all sides, barely giving him room to breathe.
That was fast, Noah thought.
It had only been a few minutes.
Faster than the police.
Faster than it made sense.
"You don't need to explain," one reporter said, practically shouting over the noise. "We already know you saved the city from a mutant attack."
Noah blinked.
"…A mutant attack?"
"Of course," the reporter continued. "Official sources confirmed it. A rogue mutant used their powers to transform civilians into blood-draining monsters. If you hadn't intervened, thousands could've died."
Noah stared at him.
They really just ran with that?
Now it made sense.
Why mutants had such a bad reputation.
Anything unexplained—
Anything dangerous—
Blame it on them.
Repeat it enough times, and it became truth.
Then came the question.
"Are you a mutant?"
Noah didn't even pause.
"Of course not," he said calmly. "I've said before—I'm just a normal person."
Several reporters exchanged looks.
Some of them recognized him now.
The high school kid from the bank incident.
Twice in the spotlight.
"Then how do you explain your strength?" another reporter pressed. "What's the source of your abilities?"
Noah smiled slightly.
"Hard work," he said. "And natural talent."
There was a brief silence.
"…You're serious?"
"Completely," Noah replied. "Everything I've achieved comes from consistent training. Anyone could do it—with enough effort."
The looks he got in response made it clear no one believed him.
Still, they kept going.
"Could you be more specific about your training?"
"Sure," Noah said easily. "In about a month, I'll be releasing a book—Everyone Can Train. It covers everything I've done in detail. Follow it, stay consistent, and you'll see results."
A few reporters blinked.
One of them actually lowered their mic.
"…Did he just plug a book?"
They moved on quickly.
"So what's your opinion on mutants?"
Noah's expression didn't change.
"They're people," he said. "Same as anyone else."
That caught attention.
"Even after what just happened?"
Noah shrugged slightly.
"Having power doesn't make someone good or bad. What they choose to do with it does."
He glanced at the reporter who asked the question.
"If someone commits a crime, you judge them—not everyone like them."
The reporter opened their mouth—
Then stopped.
"…Right."
The exchange was being broadcast live.
Across the city—
Across the country—
People were watching.
In a remote facility, Erik Lehnsherr stood in silence, eyes fixed on the screen.
For the first time that night, the tension in his expression eased—if only slightly.
In a quiet bar, a young girl sat watching the same broadcast.
Her face was partially hidden beneath layers of clothing, but her eyes shone as she listened.
When Noah spoke—
Mutants are people too.
She held onto those words.
Then stood, pulling her coat tighter as she stepped out into the cold night.
Back at the scene—
The reporters finally began to ease off.
Noah turned—
And froze for a second.
A familiar figure stood nearby, surrounded by officers.
Commissioner George Stacy.
Watching him.
Noah walked over, offering a casual smile.
"Evening, Commissioner."
George didn't return it.
His gaze shifted briefly to the street behind Noah.
Then back to him.
"You were supposed to be at a movie," he said. "With my daughter."
A beat.
"What exactly happened here?"