Liam sat there, a small grin on his face, feeling the quiet rush of satisfaction that came with another upgrade. He was still lost in that moment when he heard the bathroom door creak open behind him.
Steve walked back into the room, towel in hand, drying his hair. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and dark pants, simple, clean, and somehow still military as hell.
Liam turned his head toward him. "Got any extra clothes for me?" he asked casually.
Steve nodded without saying much. He disappeared into the bedroom for a minute and came back holding a folded set of clothes, a gray t-shirt, dark jeans, and a towel on top. "These should fit," he said. "Haven't worn them much since I bought them."
Liam grinned and took them. "Thanks, Cap. Promise I won't ruin them."
Steve smiled faintly. "They're just clothes, Liam. Not the uniform."
Liam laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Still feels weird taking hand-me-downs from Captain freakin' America."
Steve shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh, and went back to the couch. "Go on. Bathroom's yours."
Liam nodded and headed in. The bathroom was clean and simple, everything neat and organized, just like Steve. He tossed the clothes and towel on the counter, turned on the shower, and stepped under the warm spray. The water hit his skin, washing away the dirt and tension from everything that had happened in New York. For the first time in days, he felt himself actually relax.
Then curiosity got the better of him.
He glanced around the tiled room, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Let's test this shit out."
He focused, and the air around him shifted. There was a faint ripple, a strange pull, then slowly, his feet lifted off the ground by a few inches. Water still streamed from the showerhead, running over his shoulders as he hovered just above the tiles. It felt weird, but it came naturally, as if he had always known how to fly.
He floated a little higher, maybe a foot off the ground, then let himself drop gently back down. The landing was smooth with no stumble and no noise. It felt perfect.
After a few more minutes, he finished showering, dried off, and pulled on the clothes Steve had given him. They fit better than he expected, snug around the shoulders but comfortable. He looked like a normal guy again, not someone who had fought aliens and HYDRA in the same lifetime.
When he walked back into the living room, Steve was on the couch, remote in hand. The TV was on, muted, showing footage of cleanup crews in New York. Broken streets, half-destroyed buildings, and Stark Tower under repair. The city was already trying to move on.
Liam dropped onto the couch beside him, rubbing the towel through his damp hair. "Man," he said, glancing at the screen, "you'd think people would take a break after a damn alien invasion."
Steve shook his head. "They don't stop rebuilding. That's kind of what we do."
Liam nodded, watching the screen. The world was moving forward like nothing had happened. Like they hadn't almost been wiped out by gods and monsters. He leaned back on the couch, resting his arms along the backrest, feeling that faint hum of confidence still burning inside him.
Liam kept his eyes on the TV for a moment before turning slightly toward Steve, curiosity creeping into his tone. "So... how's it feel?"
Steve raised an eyebrow. "How's what feel?"
"You know," Liam said, waving his hand lazily, "waking up seventy, eighty years in the future?"
Steve spoke after a second. "It's... different," he admitted. "The world moves faster. Feels louder. More complicated. Took me a long time to adjust. But I can't deny that living has become much easier than in the past."
He leaned back, his eyes flicking briefly to the news feed again. "Honestly, Fury helped. Waking up wasn't easy. I didn't know anyone. Didn't know anything. Fury made sure I wasn't just some museum exhibit."
Liam nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he thought about how hard it must have been for Cap. Everyone Steve had known, every friend, every bond, every memory, was left behind in another lifetime. The world he'd woken up to was brighter, faster, and yet so much emptier. Even the woman he had loved was now old, living a life without him. Liam could sympathize with that sense of isolation. In some ways, he understood it better than most.
After all, he too had been thrown into a completely different world, leaving everything and everyone behind. In his previous life, he had been just twenty-three when he died, a sudden heart attack that had stolen his last breath before he even realized what was happening. But just before the darkness took him, he had seen it, a faint blue glow surrounding his vision. The same blue glow that now lived in the strange wheel inside his mind. He still didn't know how or why he had been transmigrated into the Marvel world, but deep down, he was certain that glow, that mysterious blue wheel, was the reason.
Liam exhaled lightly and looked back at Steve. "It must have been hard," he said quietly.
Steve's expression softened, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. He gave a small nod. "Yeah... it was. But everything became easier with time."
The two sat in silence for a while as the low hum of the TV filled the room. Then they talked a bit more, not about battles or missions, but about simple things like food, music, and the strange parts of the modern world. For the first time that afternoon, the silence didn't feel heavy. It felt peaceful and shared.
---
Across the city, far from the calm and laughter in Steve's apartment, the atmosphere was tense.
Alexander Pierce sat alone in his dark office. A pale blue hologram glowed in front of him, displaying the face of a man who looked just as tense. On the desk, a small device played a distorted audio recording.
Nick Fury's voice echoed through the room:
"I'll know by the end of the week if your story checks out. If it does, you'll hear from me again. If not..."
The recording stopped with a quiet click.
For a moment, there was silence. Then the man on the hologram sighed.
"I have a lot of questions, Alexander," he said slowly. "But let's start with the obvious. How did you even get this recording? Fury isn't exactly careless, and I doubt he lets conversations like that float around unsecured. Are you sure this isn't some kind of setup?"
Pierce leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "It's real," he said. "We verified it twice through our internal channels. Voice, tone, encryption signature, all match Fury's and everyone else present there. No edits, no overlays."
He breathed out and continued. "We had two of our people with Fury today. Both loyal and deep undercover. One of them, Agent Daniels, took the shot. Made it look perfect. Then he took himself out. Suicide protocol kicked in."
"The other was smart enough to improvise," Pierce said. "He planted a micro-tap inside the shawarma joint while they were cleaning up the body. That's how we got this recording."
For a long moment, neither man spoke.
Then the man in the hologram nodded slowly, the flickering blue light revealing the deep lines on his face.
As the image sharpened, the identity of the figure became clear. Gideon Malick, one of HYDRA's leaders and currently a member of the World Security Council.
Malick spoke quietly, cold as ice. "Fury knows too much already. He can't live any longer."
***
If we ignore (and respect ) the unwavering dedication of one guy in harem section of the poll in previous chapter, ROMANCE fucking wins.
I'm a man of my word, so there will only be romance in the fanfiction.
***
For 5+ advance chapters visit my patreon.
patreon.com/narrative_ninja007
***