Chapter 5: Nick Fury

"Hello, is anyone there?"

"Well, that's polite of you. I—cough, cough, cough..."

Noah tightly gripped the phone, about to say something when he was seized by a violent fit of coughing.

"Cough, cough... spit!"

Pain wracked his body as he coughed up something with a metallic taste, a bitterness of rust coating his mouth. Each cough brought a sharp discomfort, and soon he spat out dark red phlegm laced with blood.

"I'm done with pleasantries. Let's get to the point. You've seen what happened at Times Square by now. I have all the intel you need. Send a Quinjet to pick me up and take me to the Helicarrier."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Perhaps they were surprised by his bluntness, or maybe they were mulling over the proposal.

Noah wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and glanced at Pietro, who was glaring at him furiously. Despite the blood he coughed up, his body—enhanced by that slippery system—felt no fatigue, quite unlike his state in the previous world.

After a moment, the voice on the other end responded, "Fine. What about Pietro's injuries? Are they fatal?"

Noah sighed and gave the silver-haired man on the ground a light kick. "I doubt they're fatal. He should make it to the Helicarrier."

Another silence, though this one shorter. After a few seconds, the voice returned.

"Perhaps you could—"

"No, that's not in my plans."

Noah cut them off, fully aware of what Fury was getting at. Eliminating Pietro here would undoubtedly remove a ticking time bomb, but Noah still had plans that required the speedster's cooperation. He wasn't ready for him to die just yet.

"Convince Pietro to cooperate with me and not oppose my decisions on the way, and I'll bring him to the Helicarrier."

"Deal. Put him on the phone."

The quick response surprised Noah slightly. Fury agreed without hesitation. He grabbed Pietro off the ground and held the phone to his ear. "It's for you."

Pietro, with his hands bound, couldn't hold the phone himself. Instead, he raised a shoulder to clamp the receiver in place, his expression filled with anger.

"Fury? Is that you? Did you send this lunatic after me? Tell him to let me—what?!"

The words from the other side shocked Pietro. His eyes widened, and his pupils contracted slightly. A chill ran down his spine, momentarily robbing him of breath.

Colonel America, Hawkeye, Captain Marvel, and Luke Cage were all gone?

No, that wasn't accurate. They hadn't died. Just as Noah had mentioned earlier, they'd turned into zombies. Worse, they still retained their intelligence. Reports stated that they'd begun spreading out from Times Square, consuming everything in their path.

The explosion? That had come from a minor hero, Jack of Hearts, who had tried to self-destruct and take an unknown entity down with him.

But judging from what followed, he hadn't even scratched the creature.

Pietro's face turned pale with fear. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as the gravity of the situation began to sink in. If Earth's mightiest heroes could be wiped out in mere moments, who could possibly deal with this crisis?

No, this was just another Skrull or Chitauri invasion, he told himself. S.H.I.E.L.D. would rally a counterattack soon. After all, not all the Avengers had fallen, and teams like the Fantastic Four and the X-Men were still around.

He tried to convince himself of this, but Fury's next words hit him like a bucket of cold water.

"Based on our assessment, we've decided to abandon New York City and focus on evacuating survivors. I need you to work with the man next to you and..."

Fury's voice dropped to a barely audible whisper. "Keep an eye on him."

Pietro took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He knew he had to set aside his personal fears and focus on the bigger picture. For the sake of the world, he had to do what was necessary.

Under Noah's scrutinizing gaze, Pietro nodded silently, signaling his agreement to Fury's demands. Though worry lingered in his heart, he chose to trust the decision.

After all, he was a superhero. In the face of such a monumental crisis, his duty was clear: to stand firm and protect as many lives as possible.

Click.

Noah hung up the phone, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he looked at Pietro.

"It seems we've reached an understanding. You don't hold a grudge over those shots I gave you, right?"

"...This isn't over. Just get me out of here. The Quinjet Fury promised is probably the only one not already dispatched to contain those..."

Pietro hesitated, his face twisting slightly before he continued, "Zombie heroes. It'll take about twenty minutes on foot to reach the extraction point."

Suddenly, a massive crowd of people surged around the corner, rushing toward them like a tidal wave.

Panic was etched across their faces, their eyes wide with terror as though fleeing from an unimaginable horror. They shoved and stumbled, desperate to escape, oblivious to the chaos behind them.

"Run! What are you doing standing there?!"

A voice called out to Noah, but the speaker was quickly swept away by the crowd.

Men, women, and children, some in tattered clothes and covered in dust, passed by like a storm. Despite their panic, they instinctively avoided Noah and Pietro, skirting around them as if sensing that these two weren't to be trifled with.

In the distance, thick black smoke spiraled into the sky, painting the horizon a fiery red.

The acrid smoke coiled and merged with the dark clouds above, forming an ominous mark like the signature of a demon. It engulfed the entire area, a chilling herald of destruction.

From within the smoke came faint screams, a cacophony of pain, terror, and despair that pierced the soul like a blade.

"You said the extraction point is where?" Noah asked.

"...In the direction those people are coming from," Pietro replied grimly.

Noah took a deep breath, hoisting Pietro onto his shoulder.

"Time's short. Let's go."