"Do we really have to do this?"
"It's for the best."
"There are too many people watching."
"The more witnesses, the better."
"Then... just be gentle with me..."
"I will."
"Wait—"
"What now?"
"Damn... fifth floor's tricky, but whatever. I'm ready. Let's go!"
"Aren't you gonna change first?"
"No. This'll probably be the last time I wear this thing."
Hong Fei nodded and stepped forward, delivering a sharp kick to the center of the shield. The vibranium sang with violent resonance as Steve went flying backward off the fifth floor. Mid-fall, he maneuvered the shield beneath him, curling into a protective ball.
CRASH.
The impact sent concrete dust flying. Steve's face twisted in pain as he hit the pavement. Immediately, pedestrians spun toward the noise.
The moment they recognized the iconic red-white-and-blue uniform and round shield, gasps rippled through the crowd. Phones emerged like startled birds taking flight. On the rooftop, Hong Fei activated his black-and-gold nanotech armor—a vibranium upgrade that preserved the dragon motif and all core functions. He stepped to the edge and looked down.
Seeing Steve stagger upright, Hong Fei took a running leap. He landed with a ground-shaking BOOM, eschewing the typical superhero three-point stance. Every head swiveled toward him. Then the chanting started: "Dragon King! Dragon King!"
Hong Fei waved, and the crowd's cheers intensified to deafening levels.
Steve didn't stick around for applause. He bolted into the scattering crowd, shield held tight. Pedestrians dove aside as he weaved through traffic, drawing honks and curses from swerving cars. Hong Fei turned just in time to see Steve pick up speed.
A collective realization seemed to dawn on the spectators. The Dragon King and Captain America weren't allies anymore. Hell, the federal government had stripped Steve of his title. The man sprinting away wasn't America's golden boy—he was public enemy number one.
Excitement faded from faces. Phones lowered. People exchanged uneasy glances between Hong Fei and the fleeing legend. Memory held powerful sway—most had grown up hearing stories of Steve's WWII heroics. His "resurrection" and subsequent battles in New York had only cemented that mythos. The government's sudden villainization of Captain America had already sparked online outrage. The crowd's conflicted reaction proved it.
Hong Fei gave chase. Steve commandeered a motorcycle, twisting the throttle hard. The pursuit escalated—dodging through alleys, trading blows at intersections. Soon half the city knew the Dragon King was hunting Captain America. News choppers circled overhead. Crowds gathered thicker now.
But this wasn't the usual panic when supers fought. No screaming or stampedes. People watched like it was street theater, only stepping aside when the combatants neared. They trusted neither hero would hurt them, even mid-battle.
Hong Fei spotted a soda can. A precise kick sent it rocketing toward Steve's head. Without breaking stride, Steve raised his shield—CLANG—and kept running.
Hong Fei shook his head with visible exasperation. Without hesitation, he kicked a nearby metal lamppost hard enough to uproot it, then hurled the heavy pole through the air. It embedded itself in the pavement inches from Steve's feet with a resounding crash. In the same motion, Hong Fei launched himself forward, landing squarely in front of the fugitive captain.
"Come back with me," he demanded, his voice flat and mechanical.
Steve raised his shield defensively.
"Not happening."
"If you don't return, you'll never clear your name."
"And if I do go back? Then I'll never get the chance to prove my innocence."
"You really plan to keep running forever?"
"If you'd stop chasing, I wouldn't have to run."
Hong Fei fell silent—not from hesitation, but to give the gathering crowd time to process the confrontation. After a calculated pause, he tried a different approach.
"Give me one good reason, Steve."
"What kind of reason do you want?"
Steve's bitter smile didn't reach his eyes.
"The truth. What really happened?"
As Hong Fei pressed, every camera lens and pair of eyes in the vicinity focused on Steve's face. The world desperately wanted answers from their fallen hero.
Steve disappointed them again with a slow shake of his head.
"I can't tell you."
"You know exactly what's going on. So why won't you trust anyone? Not even me?"
Steve opened his mouth, struggling with unspoken words before closing it again. His silence spoke volumes.
Hong Fei's patience visibly frayed.
"If you won't talk, you're not leaving here today."
"I know you can take me in. But some truths won't change—right stays right, wrong stays wrong."
Hong Fei spread his arms wide.
"Then look around! At the Avengers, at these people watching us. Most of them grew up idolizing you. Now you want to fight me while wearing the label of 'wanted criminal' in front of them?"
Steve turned. The crowd's mixed expressions—confusion, lingering trust, heartbreak—hit him like a physical blow. For one reckless moment, he nearly abandoned the charade to shout the truth. But discipline won out. Meeting Hong Fei's gaze again, he said quietly, "I can't beat you. Just promise you won't hurt anyone else."
"Then don't make me fight you."
"I won't surrender. Not before, not now, not ever."
"Even if you're guaranteed to lose?"
"Even then."
Steve's nod held the weight of a vow.
"Good!!!"
The sudden cheer came not from Hong Fei, but from the spectators. Their applause swelled, peppered with shouts urging the Dragon King to show mercy. Hong Fei seized the moment.
"Should I let you go?" he asked pointedly.
Steve studied the crowd—their genuine support warmed him more than any acting could. His exchanged glance with Hong Fei carried silent understanding. Before this performance began, he'd voiced his concerns about misleading the public. Hong Fei's response had been firm: Necessary deception.
Now, Steve answered just as firmly, "Don't. You've got your duty, I've got my principles. I can't explain everything yet, but we're on the same side."
Hong Fei's voice sharpened.
"Then trust me!"
"I do. But the timing's wrong."
"Then you remain a fugitive."
"Titles don't matter."
Steve hefted his shield into position.
"Enough talking. I'm ready."
Hong Fei's fist shot forward like a piston.
A glowing sphere of energy shot from his fist and struck the Vibranium shield. The impact sent vibrations humming through the metal as Steve staggered back, barely maintaining his grip. The shockwave rippling outward knocked nearby spectators off balance.
Seeing this, Hong Fei abandoned energy attacks entirely. He lunged forward, closing the distance for close-quarters combat. The crowd seized the chance to witness a brutal, no-holds-barred exchange of blows. After a minute of relentless strikes and counters, Hong Fei's leg snapped out in a sweeping kick that buckled Steve's knee.
As Steve wobbled, Hong Fei pivoted and launched a second kick that sent the shield spinning from his grasp. A final, perfectly timed roundhouse sent Steve crashing to the ground. Hong Fei stood motionless for a breath before catching the falling shield with effortless precision. The dazzling display drew gasps—though some winced at the sight of their fallen hero.
Shield in hand, Hong Fei stepped forward and extended an arm to haul Steve up.
"Let's go."
Steve gave a rueful smile.
"You won."
"You didn't lose."
Hong Fei scanned the crowd before continuing, "Look at them. As long as they refuse to abandon you, no enemy can defeat you. The people's will is the strongest foundation—the sharpest weapon."
Before Steve could respond, the crowd erupted.
"Captain, we've got your back!"
"The Dragon King speaks truth!"
"Dragon King, help him!"
Voices crashed over them in waves, a chorus of support for Steve and pleas to Hong Fei.
Steve's eyes grew suspiciously bright. He held Hong Fei's gaze, the unspoken message clear: A captain serves the many, not the few. Those late-night readings of Das Kapital hadn't been wasted. Slowly, Steve raised his hands in surrender.
Hong Fei shook his head, returned the shield to him, then grabbed his arm and launched skyward, streaking toward Washington. Below, the crowd remained electrified, minds racing over the Dragon King's words long after the two figures vanished.