章 22: Chapter 21
From across the battlefield, Vision's voice came through the comms like a very stressed-out GPS. "Ultron's activating his weapon! We need to stop it now!"
Tony, hovering above in his Iron Man suit, quickly scanned the readings, because of course he had gadgets for this. "He's trying to pull a massive asteroid into the Earth's atmosphere. If it hits, it's game over. Like, really bad game over."
Ultron's voice, sounding way too calm for someone planning the end of the world, echoed through the comms. "You cannot stop progress, Avengers. Humanity's reign ends today."
Thor, Harry, and the rest of the squad shared a grim look, the kind that usually means, "Okay, guess we're saving the world again." No time to waste.
Thor turned to Harry, urgency in his voice. "We need to destroy that weapon before it's too late."
Harry nodded, his eyes practically screaming *hero mode activated*. "Let's move."
The Avengers and their magical allies sprinted towards the factory, but, of course, Ultron's drones decided now was the perfect time to swarm them like really angry robotic hornets. The battle went from "we've got this" to "okay, this is getting out of hand" real quick. Everyone was pushing their limits to get to the big bad weapon before Ultron could drop a space rock on their heads.
Fleur lit up the night with flames so hot it was like she was trying to roast marshmallows—except, you know, on killer robots. Hermione was all business, her enchantments pinging off the drones like they'd been tailor-made for this exact moment (because they probably were). Sersi? She was literally bending the earth to her will, creating obstacles and smashing drones like she was casually rearranging the landscape.
Meanwhile, up in the air, Tony and Vision were taking care of business. Vision's laser beams sliced through the drones like butter, while Tony's repulsor blasts were sending bot parts flying left and right. And in classic Thor fashion, he and Harry were making their way through the factory like they were on a mission from Odin himself.
Thor, with a war cry that probably echoed through space, smashed through the last line of defenses with Mjolnir. Harry, not to be outdone, was tossing spells left and right, making control panels and Ultron's plans look like cheap fireworks. They finally reached the weapon's core, which was humming with an ominous, "I'm about to do something terrible" kind of energy.
"Thor, we need to overload it!" Harry shouted, clearly channeling every action movie hero he'd ever seen.
Thor, never one to turn down a good smashing opportunity, nodded and raised Mjolnir like he was about to hit a home run. "Stand back!"
With a mighty swing, Thor brought Mjolnir down on the core, and the room lit up like the Fourth of July. Electricity surged through the weapon, causing it to spark and fizzle like a defective firework. Not to be left out of the fun, Harry started pouring his own magical energy into the core, amplifying the overload like he'd just decided to turn the whole thing into a giant light show.
The core's glow intensified, and, just as things started getting a little too bright for comfort, the whole thing went boom—like, massive, deafening, "cover your eyes" kind of boom. The shockwave rippled out, disintegrating any drones that were still standing and causing the factory to collapse in on itself like it was all just a very expensive house of cards.
Outside, the Avengers and their allies watched as the factory went down in a cloud of dust and debris. Ultron's voice, once so cocky, was now conspicuously absent.
As the dust settled, the heroes regrouped, looking like they'd just been through the world's most intense workout. The exhaustion was real, but so was the relief. Sokovia was safe, the world was still in one piece, and Ultron was, hopefully, gone for good.
And, just like that, another day saved. Time to rest, until the next supervillain decides to try their hand at world domination.
—
Thor clapped Harry on the shoulder, a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. "Well done, my friend."
Harry, still catching his breath, gave a wry grin. "Team effort, Thor. You know, the usual save-the-world gig."
Captain America's voice crackled through the comms. "Nice job, everyone. Now let's clean up the mess we just made. And by 'we,' I mean mostly Hulk."
As Sokovia lay in shambles, the Avengers and their magical allies got to work. Buildings had crumbled, fires still flickered here and there, and the city looked like it had been run over by, well, a giant asteroid. So, yeah, time to get busy.
Hermione, ever the practical one, was already organizing her magical toolkit like some sort of librarian-warrior hybrid. "Reparo!" she commanded, her wand sweeping through the air as broken windows reassembled and shattered stones pieced themselves back together. She was methodical, as always, like she was writing a research paper on the most efficient way to repair a city. "Harry, I think we can optimize by focusing on the critical infrastructure first. Power grids, transportation—anything essential for survival."
Harry nodded, letting Hermione's expertise guide the process. She always had a plan, and in the midst of chaos, that was exactly what they needed. "You've got this," he said, watching as Hermione practically became a one-witch construction crew.
Hermione smiled, a bit of pride showing. "It's what I do."
Fleur, meanwhile, was striding through the wreckage like a supermodel who'd just stepped off a runway. In fact, every civilian they passed seemed to stop and stare—completely gobsmacked by her beauty. Not that Fleur noticed. She flipped her silvery-blonde hair and waved her wand, sending a controlled jet of water over a smoldering fire. "Honestly, zis place iz a mess," she said, her French accent lilting over the words. "Why can't evil robots ever destroy something more practical, like... a parking lot?"
Harry chuckled. "Fleur, if Ultron had targeted parking lots, the world might actually cheer him on."
Fleur shot him a teasing smile, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Per'aps. But I think zey'd miss ze other benefits of life too much."
She wasn't wrong, Harry thought, watching as Fleur worked with grace and precision. Beneath the allure, Fleur had a fierce determination and fire that could match the best of them—her spells were precise, calculated, and devastatingly effective. And let's not forget, the flames she controlled were no match for her own inner fire. For all the drooling guys in the vicinity, none of them knew the real Fleur, the one who only let her wild side show when it was just the two of them. Or, well, the two of them and their *other* wives.
Susan, standing nearby with her wand out, was focusing on restoring power lines. There was a little uncertainty in her expression—despite her strength, she still sometimes had trouble seeing herself as the capable and brilliant woman she was. Growing up as the "chubby girl with glasses" wasn't exactly a self-esteem boost. But here she was, now looking like a walking pin-up ad with curves that defied physics. "Gotta say, Harry," she muttered, "this isn't exactly what I pictured for a post-battle clean-up."
"You're doing great, Susan," Harry reassured her. "But if you're tired, we could always switch to a—uh—*hands-on* approach later."
Her face flushed, a rare sight for someone who had stared down Death Eaters without flinching. "Harry!" she whispered, glaring, though there was a smile tugging at her lips. "You better behave, or I might just leave you under a pile of rubble."
Luna, of course, was in her own world. She was standing in the middle of the street, twirling around like she was dancing with invisible creatures. "Oh, look at them," she murmured, gazing off into the distance. "The Nargles are helping us."
Harry wasn't sure whether to laugh or try to follow Luna's gaze. "That's great, Luna. Just let me know if the Nargles need a snack break."
She giggled, eyes wide and dreamy as always. "You should worry more about the Wrackspurts, Harry. They're the real troublemakers."
Harry grinned. Luna's odd comments always had a way of lightening the mood, even in the middle of a disaster zone. And for all her quirks, Luna was one of the sharpest witches around. It didn't hurt that she was a powerful Seer, or that she called him Daddy when they were alone—which never failed to make him feel both flustered and amused.
And then there was Tonks. "Wotcher, Harry!" she called out, clumsily tripping over a piece of rubble as she waved. Her hair was currently bubblegum pink, matching her high-energy, always-ready-for-trouble attitude.
Harry smiled at her. "Tonks, I think Sokovia's already had enough damage for one day."
Tonks made a face. "Blame the rubble, not me. Besides, I'm a fixer, not a wrecker." She brandished her wand and pointed it at a collapsed building. "Time to give this city a facelift. *Wingardium Leviosa!*"
The building started floating back into place, though Tonks, true to form, wobbled a bit while guiding it. "So, how's my levitation form today? Nice and steady, yeah?"
Harry shook his head, amused. "Looks solid. Just don't go levitating *me*."
She shot him a cheeky grin. "No promises."
With everyone working together, the city was slowly pieced back together, and as dawn broke, Sokovia began to look more like a city and less like a war zone.
"Well, that's another job done," Harry said, looking around at his wives, the Avengers, and their friends. "Now, who's up for a celebratory meal? I'm starving."
Luna nodded sagely. "Yes, Daddy. We should probably find food before the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks show up. They're very temperamental when they're hungry."
Harry just sighed. "One crisis at a time, Luna. One crisis at a time."
—
As the Avengers and their allies worked to fix up the mess in Sokovia—because, really, when don't they have to clean up someone else's disaster?—the sound of military vehicles rumbling toward them broke the temporary peace. Enter: General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross, the guy who shows up when things are just starting to look less apocalyptic, only to make them worse.
Ross climbed out of his armored SUV like he was arriving to a red carpet event. His eyes swept across the battlefield, already set on assigning blame, when they landed on Bruce Banner. Bruce, still in his Hulk form, was busy lifting chunks of debris like he was competing for World's Strongest Man. Ross's expression hardened—because, of course, history—and not the fun kind with old stories and nostalgia. Nope. The kind where someone threw a car at you once.
"Banner," Ross barked, his voice dripping with authority, or at least, his version of it.
Bruce sighed and, with all the enthusiasm of someone waking up on Monday morning, shrunk back into his human form. "General Ross," he said, his tone about as friendly as a wet sock.
Ross's attention didn't linger. Instead, he scanned the rest of the Avengers, his squad of soldiers fanning out behind him like he was auditioning for the role of 'Most Unwelcome Guest.' "I'm here to secure the remains of Ultron's device," he announced, voice tight, like someone who hadn't slept in days and definitely hadn't gotten the memo that the Avengers were handling things. "This tech is a threat to national security."
Cue Tony Stark, landing next to Bruce, his Iron Man suit still gleaming. The helmet retracted, revealing that signature smirk. "General, we've got it under control. The device is about as dangerous as a paperweight now."
Ross's expression didn't so much as twitch. "That's not your call to make, Stark. We need to ensure it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."
Captain America, ever the diplomat, stepped forward. Even just standing there, the guy had a way of making everyone stop and listen. "General, we're in the middle of rescuing civilians. That has to come first."
Ross crossed his arms, his stance practically screaming *I'm in charge here*. "My orders are to secure the device. No exceptions."
Meanwhile, Natasha and Clint subtly positioned themselves—just in case this little chat turned into something more physical. Wanda and Pietro watched from a distance, their powers practically humming at their fingertips. You know, because things always went from bad to worse when Ross was involved.
Thor, not one to be left out, stepped up next, Mjolnir in hand. "General Ross, we've neutralized the threat. Your presence here is unnecessary."
Ross barely acknowledged the literal Norse god standing before him, which, let's be honest, was a choice. Instead, he locked eyes with Bruce again. "Just because SHIELD gave you immunity, Banner, doesn't mean I'm letting you off the hook. This device is coming with us."
That's when Harry stepped forward, all six-foot-something of him, broad-shouldered, impossibly handsome, and with emerald green eyes that could probably stop traffic. Ross didn't know it, but this wasn't just some average hero; this was someone who had no patience left for his bluster.
"And what exactly do you plan to do if we say no, General?" Harry asked, his voice calm, low, and filled with the kind of confidence that said he wasn't here to play nice.
Ross blinked. For a split second, he seemed caught off guard. It wasn't every day you got stared down by a guy who looked like he could bench press a tank and had the eyes of someone who'd been through hell and back. Ross straightened, trying to muster up some authority. "You don't understand the stakes here, son. This isn't just about the Avengers—it's about global security."
Harry, not even blinking, stepped in closer. "Oh, I think we understand just fine. We've been out here on the front lines, fighting Ultron, saving people. So unless you want to tell the world that you showed up late and tried to take over, I suggest you stand down."
Ross's eyes flicked over the rest of the Avengers, all of whom were clearly siding with Harry. And that was when the General realized that picking a fight here wasn't going to end well for him—or anyone, really.
—
Just as the standoff between Ross and the Avengers hit its peak—because of course, why wouldn't it?—the distant hum of helicopters filled the sky, growing louder by the second. Everyone turned their heads, half-expecting another round of trouble. Because, let's face it, when do helicopters ever show up with good news?
Two sleek, black helicopters descended with the kind of precision that screamed, Look, we're here to save the day. The Avengers tensed—well, except for Thor, who was probably wondering why Earthlings always flew around in noisy metal boxes—but Harry raised a hand. "Chill," his gesture seemed to say. The others relaxed, though barely.
The helicopters landed, and out stepped the dynamic duo: Nick Fury and Maria Hill. You know it's serious when both of them show up. Fury, with his iconic eye patch and leather coat that somehow still looked cool in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, strode toward the group like he owned the place. Which, in a way, he kinda did.
"Director Fury, Agent Hill," Harry said, his voice polite but definitely cautious. It's not like this was the first time Shield had shown up with perfect timing, but it's always a bit suspicious.
Fury gave a short nod and immediately turned his attention to Ross. "Ross," he said, with the kind of cool, unimpressed tone that made everyone suddenly feel like they were in trouble, "what exactly are you doing here?"
Ross puffed up like an angry bullfrog. "I'm here to confiscate Ultron's tech, Fury. It's a potential threat, and it needs to be locked down."
Fury looked around, taking in the scene, the exhausted Avengers, the ruined city, and then back to Ross. "And you thought rolling in here like the bad guys in an action movie was the best way to handle this?"
Maria Hill, not one to be outdone in the I-can-handle-this department, stepped forward. "Secretary Ross, your actions are making a bad situation worse. Shield's already authorized to deal with this under a UN directive. You need to stand down."
Ross opened his mouth, probably to shout something about jurisdiction and how dare you, but even he wasn't dense enough to argue with Fury and Hill when they were both giving him the look. The Avengers stood behind Harry, their expressions saying, Please, let's just avoid another mess.
Ross clenched his jaw, clearly debating whether to storm off or try to assert his authority one more time. But, seeing as he was outnumbered and outmatched, he opted for the wiser choice—retreat. "Fine," he ground out through clenched teeth. "But I'm holding you all accountable if this tech causes any more problems."
With that, he spun on his heel and stormed off, his aides scurrying after him like they had somewhere really important to be. The tension in the air dropped a notch as Fury and Hill walked up to Harry, their faces easing into something that resembled—not quite a smile—but something less terrifying.
"Good to see you again, Potter," Fury said, sounding almost friendly, which was as close as Nick Fury got to giving compliments.
Harry nodded, still keeping an eye on the departing military convoy. "Thanks for stepping in, Director. We need to make sure this tech doesn't fall into the wrong hands." There was always a "wrong hands" problem these days.
Fury surveyed the team. "Let's secure the device, then figure out our next move."
As the Avengers shifted into action mode, there was a weird mixture of relief and "Uh-oh, what now?" hanging in the air. Sure, they'd saved the day—again—but Ultron's tech? Yeah, that was a whole new can of worms waiting to explode, probably literally.
And knowing their luck? It wouldn't take long before they were neck-deep in even more chaos. Because, apparently, that's what being an Avenger meant.
—
As the Avengers, Sersi, and Harry's wives trudged into Avengers Tower, looking like they'd just survived a hurricane (because, honestly, that's basically what Ultron was), they were met with something even more terrifying than an army of killer robots: Pepper Potts, arms crossed, looking like she was about to tear someone apart. And, spoiler alert, that someone was Tony Stark.
Tony barely had time to peel off his helmet before the storm hit. "Tony Stark, we need to talk."
You could hear a pin drop. Everyone froze, even Thor, who wasn't usually fazed by mortal conflicts (unless it involved *his* ex-girlfriend). Tony gave the team a look that was equal parts sheepish and please, someone save me, but no one was jumping in front of that bullet.
"Uh, hey, Pep," Tony said, his voice doing that guilty-criminal thing. "What's up?"
Pepper's eyes flared with the intensity of a thousand suns. "What's up?" she echoed, her tone screaming *oh, I'll tell you what's up*. "Harry told me about your little science project. You created Ultron? What were you thinking, Tony?"
Tony shot a death glare at Harry, who shrugged, looking far too innocent for someone who just dropped a Stark-sized bomb. "I thought she should know," Harry said, as if that was totally the logical thing to do.
Pepper's laser-focus was back on Tony, and he was doing his best not to spontaneously combust under the weight of it. "Pepper, I was trying to create a suit of armor around the world," Tony began, launching into his best I'm-a-genius-but-please-don't-yell voice. "I didn't mean for things to get out of hand."
Pepper's eyes narrowed in a way that should've come with a danger warning. "That's not good enough, Tony. You risked everything. Again. You didn't think about what might happen if it went wrong. And guess what? It did."
Tony rubbed the back of his neck like a kid who got caught stealing cookies. "I know, Pep. I know. But we fixed it. We stopped Ultron."
"At what cost?" Pepper's voice softened—just a little—but there was still enough tension to power the entire Tower for a week. "You can't keep doing this, Tony. You can't keep making these decisions on your own. We're supposed to be a team. Instead, you're out here creating more problems for us to clean up."
The Avengers collectively held their breath, all very aware that they were front-row spectators to the Stark-Potts Showdown, Act 3. Harry's wives exchanged looks, probably debating whether they should drag Harry out of the room before Tony decided to turn his death glare on him again.
Tony stepped closer to Pepper, all sincere and earnest, which, for Tony, was saying something. "You're right. I'm sorry, Pep. I really am. No more solo projects. We'll do this together."
Pepper sighed, and just like that, the atmosphere lightened—*a little.* "I hope you mean that, Tony. Because I can't keep doing this if you don't change."
Tony nodded like his life depended on it. "I do. I promise."
Pepper looked him over for a long moment, like she was measuring how serious he really was. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. But this is your last chance, Tony."
Everyone let out a collective breath, the tension finally slipping away. Steve clapped Tony on the back, smiling like the proud Captain he was. "Glad to have you back, Tony."
Tony smiled too, though there was a hint of regret behind it. "Thanks, Cap. And thanks, everyone. Let's take a break before we get back to work. We've got a lot to rebuild."
As the team moved toward the common area, Harry sidled up next to Tony. "Sorry about that. But, honestly, she deserved to know."
Tony shot him a look that said I should be mad, but you're not wrong. "Yeah, she did. Thanks, Harry. For everything."
Harry grinned. "Anytime, Tony. We're all in this together. Even if that means occasionally blowing up cities with killer robots."
—
As the team settled into the common area, the exhaustion of their battle with Ultron gave way to a more relaxed vibe. That is, until Pepper Potts turned her gaze to Harry and the group of women surrounding him. "So," she began, arms still crossed but her tone a little lighter, "who are these lovely ladies, Harry?"
Harry, who could handle dark wizards and rogue robots but somehow *still* blushed like a teenager around awkward questions, rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, well, this is Hermione, Fleur, Susan, Dora, and Luna. They're… my wives."
Pepper blinked. Twice. "Wives? As in… plural?"
Before Harry could stammer out an explanation, Tony swooped in, grinning like he'd just found out someone else was in trouble for once. "Oh, you're gonna want to hear this one," he said, leaning back like he was about to settle in for story time.
Clint, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, added, "Yeah, our boy Harry here isn't just a wizard. He's also got himself a magical harem."
Hermione cleared her throat, fixing Clint with a stern, no-nonsense look. "Technically, we're in a legally and magically binding union with Harry based on mutual consent and the longstanding traditions of magical Britain. 'Harem' is not the correct term."
Tony grinned. "See? I told you it was a good story."
Harry, looking like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him, gave an awkward smile. "It's… complicated. But they're not wrong. And, um, Pepper, it's really not as scandalous as it sounds."
Pepper shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Well, whatever works for you, Harry. You've certainly got your hands full."
Luna, who had been staring dreamily at the ceiling, suddenly chimed in. "It's not his hands that are full, Pepper. Not most of the time, anyway."
There was a moment of stunned silence. Then Tony let out a bark of laughter that earned him a glare from Pepper. "See? That's why I like Luna."
Harry sighed, clearly used to this by now, while Luna smiled, pleased with herself. Hermione, ever the one to steer things back on track, gave Harry's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Honestly, Harry, it's fine. I've gotten used to explaining our situation. It's just—"
"—Not a 'harem,'" Harry finished, nodding like he'd given that speech at least a dozen times (and probably had).
Thor, sensing the conversation was straying into territory he didn't quite understand but didn't want to admit, stood up, his cape swishing dramatically behind him. "I must return to Asgard soon. The Convergence is near."
Hermione's eyes lit up, her brain no doubt already processing the term and cataloging it somewhere between "fascinating magical anomalies" and "topics to research later." "What's the Convergence, Thor?"
Thor smiled, clearly pleased to have someone ask him a question *he* could answer. "The Convergence is a rare alignment of the Nine Realms. When it occurs, the boundaries between the realms weaken, allowing for great power… and potential danger."
Luna's eyes went wide, though whether she was daydreaming or actually interested was anyone's guess. "That sounds absolutely marvelous," she said, her voice soft and wonder-filled. "Do you think we could visit? Perhaps we'll see an Arithmantus flying between the worlds. They're rare, you know."
Thor, not missing a beat, nodded solemnly. "Indeed, Lady Luna. You and Harry's other companions would be most welcome in Asgard."
Harry, always up for an adventure that didn't involve killer robots or life-threatening prophecies, grinned. "Count us in. And we'd love for Sersi to join us."
Thor gave a respectful nod. "Sersi is, of course, invited as well."
Clint leaned over to Bucky, who had been silently watching all of this like it was the most bizarre soap opera he'd ever seen. "Harry's one lucky bastard, huh?"
Bucky just smirked, shaking his head. "Yeah, no kidding."
Tony, never one to be outdone, chimed in with, "You know, some guys just have it all."
Pepper gave him a look that could've melted his armor. "Tony, behave."
Tony threw up his hands in mock surrender. "What? Just saying, it's impressive."
With the promise of a trip to Asgard hanging in the air like the most exciting vacation ever, the team spent the rest of the evening planning and prepping, the bonds between them stronger than ever. Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione, who was already listing the books she'd need to read about Asgardian culture, while Luna was probably thinking about magical creatures that didn't exist—but who knew? Maybe she'd be right.
After all, in Harry's life, anything was possible.
—
General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross sat alone in his dimly lit office, staring at the screens in front of him like a guy who just discovered his favorite TV show had ten seasons he'd missed. The footage from Sokovia played on loop—Avengers in action, saving the world with the kind of over-the-top superhero moves that had him both impressed and deeply concerned.
To the world, the Avengers were heroes. To Ross? Well, they were more like ticking time bombs with capes.
He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the weight of his thoughts. "We need a response team," he muttered, almost like he was ordering coffee. Only, instead of a double-shot espresso, he was asking for a group of people who could handle a god, a super-soldier, a genius in a metal suit, and, oh yeah, a Hulk. "Because it's not if the Avengers go rogue. It's when."
Ross flipped through his files, scrolling past the usual suspects—super-soldiers, covert operatives, and people with more firepower than the average action movie hero. His eyes narrowed as he pulled up a new set of footage. It wasn't just the Avengers anymore. No, now there were new players on the field. Harry Potter, the wizard who apparently didn't need broomsticks to fly, and five women who seemed just as powerful and mysterious as he was. And then there was Sersi, who, if rumors were to be believed, could rearrange the molecules of matter like she was playing with Legos.
Great. Just what he needed. More unknowns.
Ross leaned closer to the screen, trying to piece together what little he could from the battle footage. The problem was, there wasn't much. No official documentation. No records. These people had come out of nowhere, and they fought like they'd been saving the world for years.
"Fantastic," Ross grumbled. "As if the Avengers weren't enough of a problem."
He rubbed his temples, feeling the headache building. What Ross needed now was a team—a team to keep these unpredictable forces in check. The kind of team that could stand up to Tony Stark's tech, Thor's lightning, and whatever magic Harry Potter and his crew were throwing around.
Ross muttered to himself, as though convincing himself this wasn't just paranoia. "This isn't about distrust. It's about being prepared."
Preparedness. That was Ross's favorite word. He lived for it, like other people lived for vacation days. If the Avengers ever decided to flip the switch from heroes to threats—and, let's face it, Ross was convinced that was just a matter of time—someone had to be ready. Someone had to be watching the watchers.
He sat back up and started typing, pulling up old files and scribbling down new ideas. The world needed safeguards. No, the world needed a team. A team that could operate in the shadows, swoop in when things went south, and handle threats, no matter how overpowered or ridiculously well-dressed those threats were.
"I'll build that team," he said, his voice low, but with the kind of determination that made it clear he wasn't talking about a neighborhood watch group. This was going to be something different. Something bigger.
With that thought, Ross started making calls. As the night wore on, his mind buzzed with possibilities, old initiatives to revive, new recruits to bring in. The Avengers—and these new wild cards—might be Earth's mightiest heroes, but Ross was going to make sure the Earth had something mightier. Or at least, sneakier.
Because, in his mind, it wasn't just about fighting the bad guys anymore. It was about having someone ready when the good guys lost sight of the lines. And Ross? He was all about the lines.
---
Author's Note:
As the story unfolds and General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross prepares to assemble a response team to counter the Avengers and potentially other powerful entities, there are many intriguing possibilities for who might join such an initiative. The Avengers universe is rich with characters, both established and new, who could play pivotal roles in Ross's team.
Who do you think would be part of Ross's team? Are there existing Marvel characters you'd like to see in action alongside or against the Avengers? Or perhaps you have ideas for entirely new characters who could bring unique abilities and perspectives to this conflict? Share your thoughts and predictions as the narrative continues to evolve!
---
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