S.H.I.E.L.D – Director's Office
The cold light filtering through the window barely illuminated the room. Nick Fury sat at his desk, staring at a powered-off tablet as if trying to find answers on its dark screen. His face, normally firm and unyielding, was heavy with a rare weariness—not physical, but strategic.
It was as if years of planning had dissolved in the past twenty-four hours.
Tony Stark had always been the top name on the Avengers Initiative list. A genius, billionaire, charmer… and, of course, a colossal headache. Fury had bet on him. Bet heavily.
And now, he wasn't sure if Tony was even still in the game.
Maria Hill had already done a thorough sweep but returned empty-handed. Stark's only recent contact had been with a certain writer—apparently harmless. Clean record, nothing suspicious, known to Tony thanks to one of the billionaire's extravagant parties. The two seemed to have gotten along, which, to Fury, was hardly a crime.
Still, the frustration lingered.
"Is that it?" he murmured to himself, voice low and rough. "Years of planning, and the Initiative dies before it's even born?"
It was an idea he refused to swallow. Fury had faced the distrust of his superiors, risked his reputation, and navigated political battles to get the project off the ground. To see it crumble now would be more than a defeat… it would be a permanent stain on his record.
"Stark is out… Banner, in observation… Who else do I have?" he thought aloud, mentally reviewing the list of possible candidates.
The sound of the door opening interrupted his train of thought.
Hill entered without knocking.
Fury raised an eyebrow but said nothing—though inwardly, he had already noted the breach of protocol. The last time she had done this, she had uncovered a secret he would have preferred to keep buried.
But Hill's look, serious and urgent, made him postpone the lecture.
"What is it?" he asked, bluntly.
"Sir…" she took a deep breath. "A scientific expedition in the Arctic has found the body of Steve Rogers."
Fury straightened in his chair as if struck by lightning.
"Repeat that."
"Steve Rogers, Captain America, has just been found."
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Images of the hero flashed through Fury's mind—not as war legends or museum pieces, but as a man of flesh and blood who had inspired generations.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Hill handed him a tablet. On the screen, beneath a thick layer of ice, lay wreckage resembling the interior of an old aircraft. A circular shield, with its white five-pointed star, rested against the fuselage. Nearby… a blond man, motionless, as if merely sleeping.
Fury's hand trembled slightly as he held the device. Not because of the frozen symbol, but because of what it represented.
(Finally… a leader.)
"Agent Hill… he is not a corpse."
She blinked, confused.
"Not a corpse? Sir, he's been there for seventy years."
"Rogers isn't like everyone else," Fury's voice carried the conviction of someone who knew exactly what he was saying. "He is the only man who received the super-soldier serum. Being frozen doesn't mean the same for him."
Hill tried to find a word—mummy? fossil?—but gave up.
"Prepare the rescue team immediately. I'll explain on the way."
As they made their way to the hangar, Fury added:
"Howard Stark believed Rogers was alive. He spent years searching, even after everyone else had given up. He promised Agent Carter that if he ever found him, he would bring him back."
Hill said nothing, but the name Carter carried a different weight in the air.
Inside the jet, Fury picked up his personal phone—a number he almost never used—and dialed. When the line was answered, he said simply:
"We found him."
On the other end, there was a silence… and then a muffled sob.
"Bring him back." The voice, firm despite the emotion, was Peggy Carter's, founder of S.H.I.E.L.D and, in a way, the person responsible for Fury holding his position.
He needed no further instructions.
The jet landed near the glacier, and Fury walked with steady steps toward the team. Under the bluish light of the ice, Steve Rogers looked almost… ready to wake.
"Sir…" one of the scientists said, eyes wide in front of the monitors. "There are vital signs. He's alive."
The murmur of celebration spread through the team. Even Fury allowed himself a rare smile.
"Recreate a replica of New York," he ordered. "Just like in his time. Every detail."
Because when Rogers woke, Fury wanted to ensure the first thing he felt was… familiarity.
He may have failed Stark, but this time, there would be no room for error.
As the news began circulating discreetly among the upper echelons of government, elsewhere in the city, Arthur and Jean were on their way to a presentation by Gwen.
Arthur, however, would not care in the slightest about the discovery of Captain America. Between Rogers and Stark, he still preferred the latter. For some reason, his friendship with Tony was growing faster than he expected… perhaps even faster than any friendship he had ever had since Enkidu.
(End of chapter)
The chapter ended up being very short, sorry.
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."