Messenger

The spy casually knocked Ivan down twice, showing off his incredible power. Each time Ivan fell, the other agents stumbled back in shock, some dropping to their knees as the spy's strength seemed far beyond what they were used to. The spy took a quick look around, relieved that the dragon in the ruins still showed no interest in joining the fight. Feeling confident, he decided it was time to make his escape. But as he took a step forward, a political commissar blocked his path. Annoyed, the spy struck him down with a single hit, sending him flying back. The impact was so strong that the commissar practically exploded upon landing.

Seeing the political commissar torn apart by his own strike, the spy's confidence wavered. He wasn't as calm now, and he got back to his feet with a look of irritation mixed with worry. His organization had researched the superheroes operating in the area. They didn't have every detail, but they knew a lot about their powers and combat styles.

Though he didn't know Captain America's name, he remembered hearing about the hero with the shield and the incredible combat skills. Alone, he didn't seem like too big a threat—the spy figured his powers, given to him by what he called "God's blessing," were enough to handle one shield-wielding soldier. What did make him nervous was the possibility of other heroes showing up, like Iron Man or Thor, who he knew had appeared here before. He knew he didn't stand a chance against them, but as he glanced around and saw no one else, he felt a surge of confidence. It was just him and Captain America. No gods, no magic-wielding warriors. If he could take down the soldier, he could escape.

With renewed determination, the spy rolled forward, sprang to his feet, and lunged at Captain America, aiming a fierce stab at his face with his staff.

Captain America reacted instantly, swinging his shield up to deflect the blow. The shield met the staff with a loud clang, knocking the weapon off course. But the staff seemed to have a mind of its own—it twisted in the spy's hands, arcing back on its own, and swung around to strike Captain America's side. It looked as if the staff were alive, moving with a strange, eerie energy as if it were controlling the spy's movements rather than the other way around.

The spy grinned, sure his surprise tactic would work. With a burst of energy, he poured even more power into his staff, which began to glow with dark, twisting vines wrapping around it. He thrust the staff forward, aiming for a weak spot in Captain America's defenses, hoping to break through his shield.

But Charlie, who was controlling Captain America, was no rookie. He'd faced countless enemies, both in the game world and against those who used similar powers. His reaction time was razor-sharp. Predicting the spy's next move, he pressed the defense button just in time, using Captain America's combat instincts to his advantage.

Captain America jumped back, putting space between himself and the spy's staff, and quickly raised his shield, adjusting it to cover his upper body. The staff slammed into the shield with all the power the spy could muster, sending a deep, vibrating hum through the air.

Captain America's shield wasn't just a simple piece of metal—it was made of vibranium, one of the toughest and most versatile metals on Earth. It could absorb and reflect energy, meaning it could counter any force thrown at it. From bullets to energy blasts, to even blows from Thor's hammer, the shield had blocked them all. And Charlie knew how to use it perfectly. If he timed it right, he could trigger a "shield counter," a move that would send the opponent's attack right back at them.

The spy hadn't expected this at all. He had put every ounce of strength into his attack, aiming to knock Captain America out with one powerful strike. But when the shield's counter hit, his own force was sent crashing back at him. He felt the energy slam into him, flipping him through the air and ripping the staff from his hands. He landed hard, tumbling backward and skidding across the ground, dazed and confused.

For a moment, he just lay there, stunned. He couldn't believe it. Had he been beaten by a single shield? Was this soldier actually strong enough to block him completely?

Captain America calmly walked toward him, stopping to pick up the fallen staff. He examined it for a moment, but before he could get a closer look, the staff began to glow and shimmer in his hands. In a flash, it exploded, disintegrating into thin air.

The spy, who had managed to pull himself up into a kneeling position, was staring at his hands, his face a mixture of shock and disbelief. His confidence was shattered; the glow in his eyes had vanished, replaced by confusion and despair.

"No… this can't be…" he whispered to himself, his voice filled with desperation. "I haven't lost… I can still fight… God, why are you taking my power away?"

Ivan stepped forward, wincing slightly as he held his newly injured arm. "What's going on?" he asked, looking at Captain America.

"I'm not sure," Charlie replied, moving Captain America closer to the spy.

The spy took a deep, defeated breath. "Well, if that's how it is… if this is truly a loss… then I'll accept it."

Captain America frowned. "Who are you talking to?" he asked. "Who do you work for?"

The spy slowly raised his head, meeting Captain America's eyes, and then let out a low chuckle. "You worry about the skies above," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You fear disaster, the gods descending… but what you don't see…" His voice trailed off, and a strange, knowing smile spread across his face.

Captain America narrowed his eyes, his instincts on high alert. "What do you mean?" he asked.

The spy didn't answer. He lowered his gaze, his lips forming a tight line, clearly choosing to stay silent no matter what.

"Don't worry," Ivan said, stepping closer. "We're good at making people talk. They always talk in the end."

"Not this time," Captain America replied quietly.

"What?" Ivan turned to look at the spy and froze.

Golden flames had started to flicker along the spy's body, slowly spreading across his skin. He stayed perfectly still, his eyes closed as the flames grew, until they completely engulfed him. In seconds, the golden fire consumed him entirely, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer in the air where he had knelt.

Ivan stood in silence, staring at the spot where the spy had disappeared. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "What do you think just happened?"

Captain America took a deep breath, his face grim. "I don't know," he said, his voice serious. "But if I had to guess…" He paused, glancing around, his tone darkening. "We might be on the brink of a war."

Meanwhile, in a far-off place, a pair of eyes opened slowly. "He failed," a voice said.

"What happened?" asked another.

"One of those so-called 'Avengers' intercepted him and defeated him."

"A 'God's Chosen Saint' couldn't handle an Avenger?"

"He underestimated his opponent," the first voice replied. "He wasted the blessing given to him by God. So, he has been disqualified. Let that be a lesson for the rest of us."

"It's a shame. He was a skilled fighter."

"Yes, but not irreplaceable," another voice said from above. A towering figure stepped into view, his face without features, but with piercing, dark green eyes that seemed to look through everything.

"Soon, the time of God's descent will come," he said, his voice echoing in the silence. "I, the messenger of the great Lord, will personally open the door for His coming."

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