Marvel : Deadpool Is My Best Friend

"Your shield has been returned. As for this"—Dr. Banner held out a small green bean—"it's a Senzu Bean. Eat it, and your left arm will recover."

He paused, then added solemnly, "Whether you pick up your shield and protect your people, or choose to run and be a coward... that choice is yours."

His words struck Steve Rogers like a hammer to the chest.

"But if you choose to be a coward," Banner continued, his voice sharpening like a blade, "then Hell's Kitchen will no longer welcome you."

He said no more. Turning silently, Banner exited the room.

Steve stood frozen, eyes locked on his shield.

Natasha Romanoff took a step forward, clearly wanting to comfort him. But before she could speak, Clint Barton reached out, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. His eyes—calm and resolute—met hers as he shook his head.

Clint looked at Steve with a long, deep gaze. "We'll be outside, waiting for you," he said simply.

With that, he pulled Natasha away and shut the door behind them.

Now alone, Steve stood quietly—an immovable mountain in the middle of the storm.

Outside, Banner and Clint leaned against the wall, while Natasha gripped the railing, her eyes fixed on the alien ships darkening the New York sky.

"Do you think he'll come out?" she asked, anxiety leaking into her voice.

Clint turned his head toward the alien armada overhead, his tone resolute. "He's Steve Rogers. We all know it wasn't Captain America that made Steve—it was Steve who made Captain America."

"He has an indomitable will. He won't fall that easily."

Banner chuckled softly. "Don't worry. He'll come through."

Clint raised an eyebrow, visibly surprised. "You trust him that much?" he asked, skeptical. "You don't even know him well."

Banner's smile became almost cryptic. "I'm not trusting Steve," he said, voice low. "I'm trusting Alex Ray."

Natasha and Clint exchanged stunned glances.

Alex Ray? Dr. Bruce Banner—a man with seven PhDs and zero tolerance for fantasy—believed in him?

Had Hell's Kitchen somehow brainwashed him?

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Banner suddenly snapped, clearly exasperated. "You don't understand Alex Ray, and you sure as hell don't understand Hell's Kitchen."

He looked down over the railing.

Unlike the rest of the New York, which had plunged into chaos, Hell's Kitchen moved like clockwork.

There was no screaming. No panicked fleeing. Only grit.

Women hurried home, ushering their children inside. Men closed their shops, grabbed weapons, and headed out.

A cigarette in one hand and a bat or shotgun in the other, they marched in growing numbers—at first one or two, then in groups, and finally as a full-blown militia.

"Dammit, why the hell are you out here, old man? Get back inside—I've got this!" one young guy shouted.

"Back when I was handling a Thompson, you were still in diapers," the old man shot back with a laugh. "I fought in World War II, every war since, but I've never faced aliens. I want to see what makes them so special."

"Mr. Alex Ray's paying $10,000 per alien kill!" someone shouted. "And Stark Industries is buying their gear. These aliens are walking ATMs!"

"I just want to bring one back as a specimen," another grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Something to show the grandkids!"

"Hell, I'm a gangster," one mountain of a man said, swinging a bloodstained bat over his shoulder. "Never thought I'd be in a real alien war. Worth dying for this!"

"LET'S GO!" they roared together. "SHOW THEM HELL'S KITCHEN ISN'T SCARED!"

From above, Natasha and Clint looked on—awestruck.

"Why aren't they afraid?" Natasha asked softly. "Aren't they scared of dying?"

"Of course they are," Banner said. "These people are terrified. But they've followed Alex Ray through fire, and he's always led them to victory. They trust him. They believe in the 'Lord of Hell's Kitchen.' They believe Alex Ray won't abandon them."

Clint and Natasha glanced at each other. The same doubt flickered in their eyes.

Was Alex Ray really that powerful? That irreplaceable?

Banner continued, "And besides, it's not just Alex down there. There are people like us too. We're not letting civilians go first."

As if summoned by his words, a flash of red cut through the sky. Iron Man blazed forward, blasting Chitauri ships out of the air.

Tony Stark had arrived.

He unleashed hell on the invaders, holding the breach open near the black hole long enough to buy precious minutes.

Just as Banner began twitching—impatient to join the fight—the door behind them creaked open.

Natasha and Clint turned sharply.

A familiar silhouette stood in the doorway.

Steve Rogers.

No longer lost, no longer broken. His armor gleamed, his shield hung firm, and his eyes—clear and resolute—met theirs.

"Sorry," he said with a quiet smile. "Took me a while to clean up. Thanks for waiting."

He raised his shield.

"Avengers, assemble."

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Bonus Chapter - 150 Power Stones

2nd Bonus Chapter - 300 Power Stones

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