-
The SHIELD base's meeting room was silent, except for the low hum of monitors and the occasional sound of metal clinking as Tony Stark fiddled with a broken piece of his Hulkbuster armor. The smell of burnt coffee lingered in the air, mixed with the faint antiseptic scent from the makeshift bandages wrapped around Steve Rogers' arm. The cold light from the holoprojectors lit the tired and bruised faces of the Avengers present: Tony, Steve, Natasha, Clint, T'Challa, and Thor. Bucky was there too, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, gaze lost somewhere far away.
No one wanted to speak first. The defeat was still too fresh, like an open wound no one knew how to treat. The hologram in the center of the room displayed grainy footage of the fight: the moment Thor was knocked out by a devastating punch, Tony being impaled by that insane feline girl, Steve falling under the blows of a chimera with a scorpion tail, and T'Challa being crushed against a rock by impossible sonic waves. Each frame was a reminder of how badly they had underestimated the enemy.
Tony finally broke the silence, slamming the broken piece onto the table with a clang that made Clint flinch slightly.
"I said it was going to be hell, but I didn't think it'd be *this* level of hell," he started, voice dripping with sarcasm but heavy with frustration he couldn't hide. "They steamrolled us like we were amateurs. Anyone got a brilliant idea on how those things tore us apart in under ten minutes?"
Steve looked up, his face still pale from blood loss. His right arm, now in a makeshift sling, was a testament to the brutality of the fight. "They're fast, strong, and coordinated. It wasn't just brute force, Tony. They had a plan—and we didn't."
"Plan?" Natasha cut in, sitting with her elbows on the table, rubbing her temples. "That wasn't just a plan. That was an execution. They knew exactly where to hit us, how to destabilize us. That woman with the tail… she could've killed me, but didn't. She wanted me to *see* Steve bleeding on the ground." Her voice trembled slightly—something rare for the Black Widow.
T'Challa, standing near the window, turned slowly. His Black Panther suit was torn in several places, and a visible purple bruise on his neck showed where Evelyn's sonic wave had hit him. "They evolve," he said, his deep voice certain. "The girl who faced me… I saw her before, during the first assault on the mound. She was weaker then, less precise. This time, she neutralized me like she knew every move I'd make. That's not just training. It's something else."
Thor, sitting in a chair that seemed too small for him, gripped Mjölnir tightly in his lap. His nose was still red, crusted with dried blood, and he looked more pensive than usual. "Their leader… the green one. He hit me with a blow I felt in my bones—even as a god. And when I struck him with my hammer, he barely flinched. A mortal would've been dust. He's not normal—not even by Midgard's standards."
Tony pointed at the hologram, which now showed a frozen frame of Meruem staring into the camera from Tony's armor before vanishing through a portal. "That's the boss, their 'king'. Xavier warned us he's smart, and the interrogation footage we got from one of the prisoners confirms it. He was born less than a month ago and already knows more about us than we do about them. That's a problem."
Clint, fidgeting with a broken arrow, tossed it onto the table with a sigh. "They've got weird powers too. That girl who opened the portal, the one with the scorpion tail, the other one who screamed until T'Challa almost exploded… it's not just physical strength. It's like they're mutants—but worse."
"They're not mutants," T'Challa corrected, folding his arms. "Xavier said they call it 'Nen'. An energy they manipulate, like mutants manipulate their gifts—but more versatile. The girl I faced used it to track and immobilize me. I had no way to escape."
Natasha grabbed a tablet from the table and opened a file. "The interrogations we managed before… well, before we lost more prisoners, say that Nen is something they awaken and train. Each has a different type. The king appears to be the most powerful, but his guards — those three who wrecked us — are a different category altogether."
Tony leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he studied the data on the hologram. "So we've got a leader who's a tactical genius with absurd brute strength, royal guards who can take us apart in seconds, and an entire species that evolves faster than we can keep up. Anyone else feel like we're screwed?"
"We're not screwed," Steve countered, his voice firm despite the exhaustion. "We lost because we didn't know what we were facing. Now we do. We need to adapt—like they do."
"Adapt how, Cap?" Clint asked, raising an eyebrow. "My wrists are still throbbing from that purple woman. I couldn't even aim before she snapped me like a twig."
"We need more intel," T'Challa said. "Wakanda has tech that can track energy patterns. If this 'Nen' is measurable, we can detect it. And I have a personal score to settle with that screamer."
Thor nodded slowly. "And I with the king. He humiliated me like few ever have. But he is not invincible. I saw blood on his face after my strike. He *can* be hurt."
Tony chuckled without humor. "Blood? A drop of blue? Congrats, Thor. You scratched the guy who turned us into punching bags. We need more than that. We need a plan that doesn't rely on luck."
Natasha looked at Tony. "Then what do you suggest, genius? Because last time, your fireworks didn't even tickle them."
Tony stayed silent for a moment, drumming his fingers on the table. Then, a spark lit in his eyes. "Friday, bring up the fight data. Every hit, every move, every energy spike my cameras picked up." The hologram shifted, displaying graphs and lines of code. "They're fast, but not perfect. The girl who got me — the crazy feline — she played too much. She could've killed me, but chose to toy with me. That's a weakness. And the king… he pulled the punch against Thor. He didn't want to kill. Why?"
"Maybe he wants to negotiate," Steve suggested, frowning.
"Or maybe he wants us alive to watch him take everything over," Clint replied.
"Doesn't matter why," T'Challa said. "He's the brain behind this. If we take him down, the rest of the colony might collapse."
Tony pointed to the hologram, now showing Pitou's strike against his armor. "Look at this. She uses that Nen — in focused bursts. If I can create a field that disperses or at least detects that energy, I might neutralize their attacks. And if T'Challa's right about tracking Nen, we can use vibranium to amplify it."
"And the rest of us?" Natasha asked. "Not everyone's got an armor or vibranium claws."
"Training," Steve said, straightening in his chair despite the pain. "Last time, we fought as individuals. They fought as a team. We need better coordination—predict their moves. Bucky and I can take the front line. Clint, you cover from the rear. Natasha, infiltration and distraction. Thor and Tony handle the heavy hitters."
Bucky finally spoke, voice hoarse. "They cut through us like butter. If I'm going up front, I need something tougher than my arm."
"I'll handle that," Tony said, already noting something mentally. "An upgrade for your arm. Vibranium, Nen sensors, the full package."
Thor slammed his hammer on the table, making it rattle. "And I will bring storms even their king cannot ignore. But we need more allies. Where's Banner and the others?"
"Bruce has been off the grid since Ultron," Natasha replied. "Wanda and Vision are on assignment in Europe, but I've sent for them. They should be here in a few days."
"And the X-Men?" Clint asked. "They've dealt with creatures like these before."
"Xavier's hesitant," Tony said. "He still thinks peace might be possible. But after what we saw, I doubt he'll convince green king of anything."
Steve looked around the room, eyes resolute. "Then that's it. We recover, gather allies, and strike back. They may evolve fast—but we're the Avengers. We don't go down without a fight."
Tony smirked. "Well said, Cap. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got armor to rebuild and an ego to repair."
As the others began to rise, T'Challa remained still, eyes fixed on Meruem's hologram. His fists clenched tightly. *You'll pay for every life you took, creature. Wakanda does not fall so easily.*
The room slowly emptied, but the weight of defeat still hung heavy in the air. They had lost a battle — but the war had only just begun.
---