(AN so we're going to move fast so we're going to skip a lot of unnecessary details so we can reach the comics early)
(I have a Patreon if you want to read the next 10 chapters of this fanfiction then go to patreon.com/7_Night )
A few hours later, everyone was in position. The tension in the air was palpable as we suited up, ready to put an end to Hydra's grip on S.H.I.E.L.D. Natasha had already disguised herself, slipping into the chaos unseen, while I, Sam, Captain, and Hill made our way to the security room. Every step felt heavy, not just from the weight of what we were about to do, but from the knowledge that everything was about to change.
Inside the security room, Captain took over the comms, his voice cutting through the static like a blade.
"Attention, all S.H.I.E.L.D. agents! Hydra has infiltrated this organization. The enemy is among us!"
The facility erupted into chaos almost instantly. Through the security monitors, we watched as agents turned on each other. S.H.I.E.L.D. loyalists quickly noticed the erratic movements of their so-called "colleagues" and didn't hesitate to fight back. Gunfire echoed through the halls, the muzzle flashes illuminating the screens like bursts of lightning. It was war, a battle waged not on distant soil, but within the very heart of S.H.I.E.L.D.
There was no more time to watch. Captain turned to us.
"Move out!"
Without hesitation, we bolted from the security room and made our way outside, sprinting towards the launch pad.
"How do we know who to fight?" I asked, my heart pounding as the battle intensified around us.
"Fight the ones that are shooting at you," Cap answered bluntly, already leaping over a railing and making a beeline toward the nearest Helicarrier.
And then we jumped.
Cap plummeted toward the massive carrier, shield in hand, ready to engage. Meanwhile, Sam and I took to the skies—his mechanical wings spread out, cutting through the wind with precision, while I propelled myself upward, using the air to carry me.
That's when the anti-air defenses kicked in.
A hailstorm of bullets and cannon fire ripped through the air, the sky lighting up with explosions. Sam maneuvered through them effortlessly, his wings folding and twisting with perfect control. He shot upward at the last second, completely dodging a barrage that should have torn him apart.
I, on the other hand, had a harder time.
Dodging at high speed while maintaining flight was much harder than I thought. It wasn't just about moving out of the way—it was about calculating where I'd be when the next round of fire came. Unlike Sam, who had a mechanical system controlling his trajectory, my flight relied entirely on manipulating wind currents around me. At this speed, it took everything I had to maintain control, let alone dodge the relentless assault coming from the Helicarrier's cannons and Hydra's fighter planes.
And then.
I flew too low, too close to the carrier's hull, and immediately found myself in the crosshairs of enemy agents stationed on deck. The winds spiraling around me to keep me airborne blasted them away, knocking them over like bowling pins, but it wasn't enough. More turrets were locking onto me.
I couldn't fight like this.
My focus was completely divided between keeping myself flying and avoiding attacks. If I tried to counter, I'd lose balance. If I lost balance, I was dead.
Then things got even worse.
Hydra's fighter jets locked onto me. A squad of three peeled away from their formation and started tailing me, their movements sharp and calculated. At first, I weaved through their fire, pushing my body to its limits, but then something strange happened.
The planes started shifting positions.
One stayed directly in front of me, blocking my path. The second moved to my right, and the third took the left. And that's when I noticed the Helicarrier's turrets below.
They weren't tracking the planes.
They were tracking me.
I was trapped.
Bullets and rockets were already on their way. With the fighter jets boxing me in from the front and sides and the Helicarrier's cannons firing from below, my only escape route was straight back.
But at this speed, I wouldn't make it.
For the first time in a long time, I felt actual panic.
There was no way out. No time to turn. No time to dodge.
I had to think fast.
I pushed my Wind Sense to its absolute limit, trying to detect anything—anything—that could help me escape. That's when I saw it.
Not something physical. Not an opening in the enemy's formation.
I saw the wind.
Not just felt it—I saw how it moved. How it curved around objects. How it flowed naturally. And for the first time, I understood something.
And an idea popped in his mind
It was incredibly risky, but I didn't think. I acted.
"F*** it."
In the split second before impact, the winds around me stopped.
And then, in a burst of speed, I shot straight up.
The bullets and missiles missed completely, detonating in a fiery explosion beneath me. The fighter planes and the carrier's turrets all adjusted their aim, trying to track me,
Luke stopped and looked at where he had been a second ago. Now, he was just floating in the air without any wind spiraling around him to keep him up.
He thought about what he had done a second ago when he observed the wind.
The way the wind flowed through the battlefield reminded me of my movement technique. The one I had based on a show from my past life. The one that allowed me to move effortlessly, like a leaf drifting through a storm.
Once he had obviously mastered it, he stopped thinking about it—he believed he had perfected it completely.
And he was right. But now, as he sensed and saw the wind around him in such detail, he immediately realized he could push his movement technique to a whole new level—something that had never happened in the show.
He had already copied the movements of the wind, so why not move like the wind itself in the air?
So he did. And he didn't even have to keep moving to use it. He had mastered it long ago—he could do it effortlessly, even while standing still.
I grinned wildly.
I reached for my Hood, pulling it back on mid-air. Normally, the force of my flight would have sent it whipping violently behind me.
But this time?
This time, it didn't move.
My new flying technique also removes Wind resistance
Luke locked onto the incoming fighter planes and, with a sharp swing of his arm, unleashed three wind slashes. Each crescent blade of air cut through the aircraft cleanly, splitting them in half without triggering an explosion. As the pieces tumbled down toward the ocean below, Luke smirked.
"This is it. This is what I've been missing."
For the first time, he could fully fight in the air—where he belonged. No more struggling to dodge or being forced into awkward movements. With his new flying technique, he was completely in control. And now, the enemy was screwed.
He shot forward like a bullet, weaving between enemy fire and launching relentless attacks—wind slashes, wind blasts, and powerful wind waves that sent agents flying off the helicarriers. His Sky Breath attack ripped through enemy formations, tossing them into the sky like ragdolls. All around him, screams echoed as he tore through their defenses.
Luke immediately turned his head, scanning the battlefield until he spotted Sam being chased by a fighter jet, its machine guns firing relentlessly at him. Without hesitation, Luke shot toward them at high speed.
He reached the jet in an instant and slammed a wind-infused punch into its side—not hard enough to make it explode, but enough to destroy one of its wings. The plane spiraled out of control, giving Falcon just enough time to escape.
"FALCON!" Luke yelled through the comms.
Sam didn't need to be told twice. He dove straight down as Windwalker kicked the air, generating a powerful wind wave that shattered the Glass dome
Falcon entered the Glass dome
Luke immediately flew back into the battle.
For the next several minutes, he continued wreaking havoc—destroying planes, knocking out Hydra agents, and sending enemies plummeting into the sea. Eventually, the helicarrier cannons began shifting, turning toward each other.
Luke hovered for a moment as the massive turrets unleashed a barrage of gunfire, tearing through each other's hulls. Fires erupted, explosions consumed the decks, and the carriers, now beyond salvation, started descending toward the water and the S.H.I.E.L.D. building.
A sharp beep came through his comms.
"41st floor, northwest corner—now!"
Falcon's voice.
Luke didn't hesitate. He immediately bolted toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, slowing down only when he reached the side of the building. That's when he saw someone leap out of a shattered window—Sam.
Without wasting a second, Luke shot forward and caught him midair, quickly stabilizing their flight. "Got you."
Before Sam could even catch his breath, a helicopter flew toward them. Inside, Luke spotted Fury and Natasha. Without saying a word, he flew toward the open cabin, pushing Sam inside before pulling back.
But something felt off.
Luke narrowed his eyes. "Where's Captain?"
Fury's expression was grim. "He's not with us. Last we saw, he was still out there."
That was all Luke needed to hear. "I'll find him." Without waiting for a response, he turned and flew back toward the wreckage.
The search took ten minutes, scanning the burning debris and sinking wreckage—until he finally spotted him. On the riverbank, unconscious but alive—Steve Rogers.
Luke exhaled in relief and immediately opened comms. "Fury, I found him. Sending you the location now."
Fury's voice crackled through. "Great work, Windwalker. We'll take it from here."
But then, just as Luke was about to respond, Fury added something else.
"You should go. You've got bigger problems to deal with now."
Luke froze for a second before nodding to himself. He knew exactly what Fury meant. His identity had been exposed.
So he will have to deal with the mess that will come with it