"…The scepter going missing is tied to him, one way or another."
Natasha's voice was ice-cold. She had just treated the scrapes on her back; the sting of the wound only added to her resentment toward the man who had caused the collapse.
"Corvus and Proxima's sudden ambush happened because he showed up! Are we going after the scepter now, or are we staying here to watch him snore?"
"Neither."
Steve took a long breath, forcing down the turmoil in his chest.
"Clint, Bucky—take people and immediately organize a preliminary search and lockdown of all possible outlets for the underground river. At the very least, we contain its outflow range.
"Tony, use your drones to scan the entire underground river network—maximum coverage.
"Natasha, reach out to every usable asset we have on the surface. Lock down every possible exit in this whole area—sewers, drainage outlets, everything.
"We can't let the scepter—or the Black Order—get their hands on it easily. As for…"
He glanced toward the bridge hollow. The bald man there was already snoring, just a little.
"…Don't disturb him. Not for now."
Steve's voice carried a weight and helplessness deeper than any he'd shown before.
"Any rash move could bring consequences we can't afford. Right now, the scepter and the Black Order are the primary threats. Here… leave two people on high alert. That's enough."
He had made a hard, brutally practical decision—to set aside, for the moment, the unknown being in the bridge hollow and focus all their strength on the crisis right in front of them.
At some point, Dr. Banner had come down as well. He said nothing. With a scientist's near-obsessive curiosity and confusion, he lifted a mostly repaired gamma-radiation detector and carefully, from a distance, pointed it toward the bridge hollow.
On the detector's display, the zone corresponding to the bald man's readings was still… an infuriating expanse of nothing. Calm, flat lines.
Only when the detector's sensor swept across the collapsed area where the scepter had fallen did the residual-radiation curve on the screen spike up like a roller coaster gone insane, jitter a few times, and then drop back down toward background-level "silence."
That eerie calm made Banner's heart pound even harder.
The chaotic search and lockdown operation kicked off in earnest. Tony's drone swarms dove into the deep drainage network like a cloud of mechanical bees. Steve led a team trudging through the tangled underground maze. Natasha, through discreet channels, pulled what little surface support they still had into position.
Deep in the tunnel, darkness and silence reclaimed the space. Only the occasional crumble from unstable structures and the dull roar of rushing water broke the stillness.
And, from one particular bridge hollow, the steady, soft rhythm of breathing and faint snores.
On the surface, at Stark Industries' temporary headquarters.
In the vast conference room at the top floor, the air felt as heavy as if it had been flooded with lead.
A dozen men and women in expensive suits or crisp military uniforms, faces grave or anxious, were seated around a long conference table. On the wall, a massive display screen showed, from multiple angles, footage taken from satellites, street cameras, and even a few civilian sources.
The central image was that enormous, mirror-smooth, hemispherical crater that had replaced Manhattan's bustling core.
Zoom in. Then zoom in again.
At the bottom of the pit, a tiny red figure was walking step by step toward the rim.
Slow it down. Slow it down again.
Every detail of the Stark Tower crumpling and collapsing like papier-mâché under the impact of the shockwave played out in high definition.
Then came the scene on the Brooklyn approach bridge: the mountainous war-hammer swinging down, the blurred arc of a casual hand wave in response, and the gigantic green silhouette that vanished from the edge of the frame in an instant…
(End of Chapter)
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