"Captain Steve's apology was so… sincere."
"Yeah, what did he even do wrong? He just trusted Iron Man too much!"
"He really deserves to be a role model for the public."
The tone of the crowd shifted almost instantly, like a tide turning under unseen forces. Reporters who had been questioning the Avengers just moments ago now found themselves leaning back toward them, their words softening, their judgments bending.
Under that wave of approval, Steve's tense expression eased slightly, the tightness in his brow loosening as he sensed the change. Black Widow, standing nearby, let out a quiet breath of relief, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
Public opinion was a dangerous thing.
It could elevate you to the heavens or drag you straight into the mud, and just now, it had nearly buried them. Fortunately, Steve's performance had managed to pull them back from the edge.
But not everyone was convinced.
Dr. Lizard frowned, his gaze fixed on Steve as something heavy settled in his chest. That apology, no matter how polished, wasn't enough—not even close.
Was everything supposed to be wiped clean just because he bowed a few times in front of cameras?
Was justice really that cheap?
That couldn't be right.
His expression hardened as he lifted his head, his voice cutting through the noise with clarity and resolve.
"Put away that pitying attitude," he said, staring directly at Steve. "If you've forgotten what you did, I'll remind you."
"Click."
The device came alive again, but this time the screen showed a frozen image, the visual locked in place while the real truth played out through sound.
Dr. Lizard's strained explanations echoed through the speakers, layered with Tony's arrogant accusations and baseless conclusions. Gwen's frightened cries followed, raw and unmistakable, and then came Steve's voice—firm, righteous, decisive—as he cast judgment without hesitation.
Black Widow and Hawkeye's remarks weren't spared either, their earlier sarcasm now stripped of context and laid bare for everyone to hear.
There was no room to twist this.
No room to reinterpret it.
The moment the audio finished, the atmosphere changed again.
Steve's expression darkened, the confidence he had built just moments ago cracking under the weight of undeniable evidence. Without this kind of proof, he could have steered the narrative, softened the blow, and reshaped public perception.
But now?
There was nothing left to argue.
As the realization spread, the reporters flipped once more, their tone sharper than before, their words cutting deeper.
"I never thought Captain Steve could lie so smoothly."
"So this is what they call being 'wronged'?"
"They can't even get the facts straight, but they're great at twisting the truth. And these are the people protecting New York?"
"Is this really still a superhero team?"
Their voices overlapped, building into a wave of criticism that hit harder than any physical blow.
Dr. Lizard didn't stop there.
With deliberate steps, he walked over to Gwen, his massive frame lowering slightly as he looked at her with tear-filled eyes. His voice trembled, not from weakness, but from something far more calculated.
"They can say whatever they want about me," he said, his tone thick with emotion. "But she's just a kid."
"She's still growing, still learning, and she did nothing wrong. Yet they still tried to smear her, to paint her as something she's not."
His fist clenched tightly as he turned back to the crowd, his voice rising.
"That's not justice!"
"We can't accept this!"
"We can't let them walk away!"
"They need to be held accountable!"
Each word struck like a hammer, driving the sentiment deeper into the crowd. His towering figure became something symbolic in that moment—not just a man, but a shield, a stand against something larger.
It was a tactic Steve himself had used countless times.
Turning public opinion into a weapon.
Now, that weapon was pointed back at him.
Amid the growing chaos, Tony groaned as consciousness returned to him. Pain shot through his body, sharp and relentless, but awareness followed quickly behind it.
"What… what happened to us?" he muttered, his voice strained as he struggled to piece things together.
Steve didn't sugarcoat it.
"We were beaten," he said, his tone heavy as he glanced at his teammates. "By that lizard."
"Beaten by him?" Tony's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face. He was a genius, a man who had built weapons that changed the world—how could this have happened?
Then the pain in his arm reminded him.
Blood was still dripping.
Reality didn't care about pride.
"Look around," Steve added, his voice tightening as he pointed toward the reporters. "We're the villains now. And he's the hero."
As if on cue—
"Swoosh!"
Dr. Lizard stepped forward again, moving through the crowd as cheers erupted around him. Before he could even speak, several reporters surged closer, their emotions boiling over as they hurled microphones toward the Avengers.
"The Avengers are corrupt!"
"They owe us an explanation!"
"Apologize!"
The accusations came fast and loud, leaving no space for defense.
Tony's jaw clenched, anger flaring as he looked down at his injured arm, his mind refusing to accept the situation. He had been the one attacked, the one who fought, and yet somehow, he was the one being condemned.
How did it flip like this?
How did it all turn against them?
Steve lowered his head again, bowing once more toward Dr. Lizard. The motion came easier this time, practiced, almost instinctive, as he tried to salvage what little control remained.
But Dr. Lizard wasn't finished.
"You also need to apologize to her," he said, his gaze shifting toward Gwen.
"Whoosh—"
Gwen froze, her heart skipping a beat as the words hit her.
Make Captain America apologize… to me?
The thought felt surreal, almost dizzying, and yet there was a strange sense of satisfaction bubbling beneath the shock, something she couldn't quite suppress.
Then—
Steve bowed.
Directly to her.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice steady despite everything, the gesture clear and unmistakable.
For the crowd, it was a victory.
A moment of justice.
A reversal that felt complete.
…
"Clang."
Inside S.H.I.E.L.D., Director Nick stared at the live feed, his expression frozen as the chaos unfolded in real time. The more he watched, the worse it got, until he felt like he might actually pass out from sheer disbelief.
He had just finished cleaning up their last disaster.
Just managed to stabilize things.
And now?
They had thrown themselves right back into the fire.
His hand rose to his bald head, fingers pressing against his scalp as if that could somehow ease the pounding frustration building inside him. His eyes practically screamed defeat, the message clear without a single word.
He couldn't carry this anymore.
If someone else wanted to take over, they were more than welcome.
He had only wanted to build a strong Avengers team, something reliable, something people could believe in, and instead, he was stuck patching up one disaster after another.
What did he do to deserve this?
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the door opened.
Agent Phil Coulson stepped in, his expression serious, his tone carrying a weight that immediately cut through the tension in the room.
"Director, we may have found something," he said.
Nick didn't respond right away, but the shift in the atmosphere was enough to draw his attention.
"A god," Coulson added, his voice steady but unmistakably grave.
That got a reaction.
In the quiet that followed, Coulson began to explain, recounting what he and Agent Melinda May had encountered in a remote New Mexico town. A hammer had fallen from the sky—massive, immovable, completely unresponsive to anything they tried.
They had set up a perimeter, preparing to study it.
Then someone tried to break in.
A large, imposing man, strong enough to force his way through their defenses, had been captured and brought in. Under interrogation—helped along by truth serum—he had told them something that sounded completely absurd.
And yet—
Everything pointed to it being real.
"He says he's from Asgard," Coulson said.
"And his name is Thor."
Nick stared at him, the exhaustion on his face momentarily replaced by something else.
Shock.
Because if that was true—
Then their problems had just gotten a lot bigger.
.....
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