Consequences

The quest for a solution led Steve Rogers and Scott Lang to a remote corner of the world, where they finally tracked down Bruce Banner, who had found a quiet sanctuary within Stark Industries. For years, he had immersed himself in research, content with his life and grateful for the opportunity Tony had given him. His interactions with the Avengers had been strained, marred by past wounds and betrayals.

As the two Avengers stood before Bruce, Steve's voice held a note of urgency. "Bruce, we need your help. There's a way to fix what happened, to bring everyone back."

Bruce's gaze remained steady, his eyes guarded as he observed Steve and Scott. "And why should I help you?"

Scott stepped forward, his voice tinged with desperation. "Bruce, we're talking about undoing the snap, about bringing back the people we lost."

Bruce's expression remained unchanged, a mask of skepticism. "You're asking me to risk everything, to potentially destroy the world."

Steve's voice softened, an attempt to bridge the chasm that had grown between them. "We've made mistakes, Bruce. But this is a chance to make things right."

Bruce's eyes flashed with a hint of bitterness. "You want me to help you after everything that's happened? After how you treated me, used me, and discarded me?"

Scott's voice wavered, filled with earnestness. "We're desperate, Bruce. We know we messed up. But we're trying to fix it."

Bruce's gaze shifted from Scott to Steve, his voice carrying the weight of years of pain. "Why didn't you go to Tony?"

A heavy silence settled over the room. Steve's expression was pained as he met Bruce's gaze. "We did. He refused. Politely, but he refused."

Bruce's lips quirked into a bitter smile. "Even Tony Stark won't touch your plan?"

A mixture of regret and understanding flickered in Steve's eyes. "He was concerned about the consequences, about the risks. Just like you are."

Bruce's gaze softened, a hint of melancholy in his eyes. "Tony's always been the one to think things through."

Scott's voice was hesitant, pleading. "Bruce, please. We need someone with your expertise. We need to make this right."

For a moment, Bruce's expression softened, torn between the desire to help and the weight of his past grievances. He looked at the faces of his former teammates, the hope in their eyes clashing with his own reservations.

But in the end, he shook his head. "I can't risk it. I won't be a part of something that could destroy everything we have left."

Scott's shoulders sagged, a mix of disappointment and determination in his eyes. "Then I'll do it myself."

Steve's gaze never wavered, his voice resolute. "And I'll help you in any way I can."

Weeks turned into months as Scott tirelessly pursued a solution, poring over calculations and theories. He became consumed by his mission, fueled by the promise of reuniting with his daughter and restoring the lives lost. And then, one fateful day, he believed he had found it—the perfect calculation that could make time travel work.

Excitement raced through him as he shared his findings with Steve, who shared his optimism. Together, they prepared to embark on a journey through time, a chance to right the wrongs that had plagued them. They stood before the equipment, ready to take the leap.

But as they activated the machinery, a blinding light enveloped them. The ground shook, the world seemed to tremble. And in the aftermath, all that remained was silence—a silence that spoke of shattered hopes and unforeseen consequences.

The explosion had claimed their lives, leaving behind only remnants of a plan that had gone awry. The quest for redemption had ended in tragedy, a stark reminder that the manipulation of time was a dangerous game, one that could exact a heavy toll.

In the wake of the disaster, the world continued to turn, the echoes of their efforts a distant memory. The choices they had made, the risks they had taken, all served as a cautionary tale—an enduring reminder that some paths were best left untraveled.