After a brief exchange, the members of the Interdimensional Chatroom began to leave one by one.
"Goodbye, Noah," Kana Kimishima said politely, giving a small wave before activating her return.
In the next instant, she vanished.
One after another, the others disappeared as well—each carrying their own thoughts about what they had just witnessed.
Noah watched them go in silence.
Then his phone rang.
He answered without hesitation. "What is it?"
Fisk's voice came through, serious.
"Mr. Vale, S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone."
Noah raised an eyebrow. "Gone?"
"Yes. By the time we reached their primary facilities, most of their core personnel had already evacuated. We don't know where they've relocated."
Noah paused for a second.
Then nodded slightly.
"I see."
He didn't sound concerned.
If they wanted to run, they could run. It wouldn't change anything.
They couldn't kill him now.
And they wouldn't be able to later.
Time wasn't on their side—it was on his.
Fisk hesitated, then added, "We'll continue searching."
"Do that."
There was a brief silence before Noah spoke again.
"Oh, right. There's something else."
"Yes?"
"Mutants," Noah said. "We need to talk about how they're handled."
Fisk didn't hesitate.
"Understood. From now on, mutants won't face discrimination. In fact, we can elevate their status—grant them special legal protections, even immunity in certain cases—"
"No," Noah cut in immediately. "That's overkill."
Fisk stopped.
Noah continued, tone measured.
"Keep the registration system in place—but restrict access. No public exposure, no witch hunts. Just internal management."
He thought for a moment.
"And for mutants whose abilities come with… drawbacks—physical or otherwise—treat them as a vulnerable group. Provide support where it's needed."
Fisk nodded.
"Understood. Anything else?"
"That's it."
Noah hung up.
He turned his head slightly.
Nearby, a man stood quietly—a server in appearance, but clearly not just that.
"Does that work for you?" Noah asked.
The man smiled faintly, satisfaction in his eyes.
"More than enough. Thank you."
In the distance, unseen but listening—
Professor X remained silent, thoughtful.
"The registration system…" he said slowly.
Noah shrugged.
"I'm one of them too," he said. "I'm not going to set them up for failure. You'll have access to the framework. You and Magneto can handle the details."
That was enough.
For now.
Elsewhere—
In a soundproof room, tension hung thick in the air.
Alexander Pierce stared at Nick Fury, anger written across his face.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Pierce demanded. "You pulled S.H.I.E.L.D.'s core personnel off the grid. That's desertion."
Fury didn't react.
Instead, he looked at Pierce steadily.
"We need to work together."
Pierce frowned. "Excuse me?"
Fury didn't blink.
"I know what you are," he said flatly. "Hydra."
The word hit like a gunshot.
Pierce's expression flickered—just for a moment.
Then he recovered.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
Fury leaned back slightly.
"You don't need to deny it," he said. "I was already preparing to purge Hydra from S.H.I.E.L.D."
His gaze sharpened.
"But things changed."
He slid a file across the table.
"Compared to Noah Vale, you're not the biggest threat anymore."
Pierce didn't touch the file.
"Work with me," Fury continued. "S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra—fully aligned."
Pierce stared at him.
"You're serious."
Fury's expression didn't shift.
"You know what a fully realized Sentinel program could become," he said. "Reed Richards has already completed the theoretical groundwork. What we need now is time—and resources."
Pierce's jaw tightened.
"And you think we have a choice?"
Fury's voice stayed calm.
"You know your people won't submit. Not after everything Hydra stands for. And Noah already knows about you."
A beat.
"This conflict is inevitable."
Silence stretched.
Then, slowly—
Pierce reached for the file.
"…Fine."
Fury nodded once.
"Then we understand each other."
"Looks like it."
That night—
Inside the White House—
Rodriguez stared at Tony Stark with open curiosity.
"You're telling me," he said slowly, "that Mr. Vale put you in charge of… all of this?"
Stark folded his arms.
"Need me to prove it?"
Rodriguez shook his head.
"No. If he said it, that's enough."
He casually dropped a thick stack of documents onto the table in front of Stark.
"Then here you go. Handle it however you want."
Stark stared at the pile.
"…You're serious?"
"Completely."
From the side, Fisk added, "Try not to let too many people die. If it gets out of hand, give us a call."
Then he stood and started for the door.
"Wait," Stark said. "That's it? You're just… leaving?"
Rodriguez smiled faintly.
"You're the one in charge now. If things go wrong, that's on you."
Stark blinked.
"There's nothing more important than stabilizing the planet right now."
Fisk paused at the doorway, glancing back.
"Actually, there is," he said. "Making sure Noah stays satisfied."
Rodriguez nodded.
"If he's unhappy, everything you build can disappear in an instant."
Stark opened his mouth—
Then closed it.
They weren't wrong.
Still—
"This is insane," he muttered.
Fisk turned to Rodriguez.
"I'll handle General Ross," he said. "You deal with Commissioner George."
Rodriguez nodded. "Works for me."
They left.
Just like that.
Stark was alone.
With a mountain of paperwork.
And responsibility for the entire world.
He stared at the documents.
"…Why did I say yes?"
For the first time in a long while—
Tony Stark felt overwhelmed.
Outside—
Fisk walked beside Rodriguez, hands in his pockets.
"How long do you think he lasts?" Fisk asked casually.
Rodriguez thought about it.
"…Three days."
Fisk shook his head.
"I give him one night."