{T/N: Please consider hearting my profile...}
...
The autumn air was thick with a biting chill. People bundled up in thick coats walked the streets of Manhattan, a district that had suffered repeated calamities...
'Truly a time of endless disasters'... this phrase had become the headline of many newspapers.
From Carnival Square to the Worthington Building in Manhattan, all the way to Brooklyn, New York City had been struck by one catastrophe after another.
Supervillains, alien armies, characters that once only existed in comic books now appeared one after another, to the point where the city's residents had grown accustomed to it.
Nearly a month had passed since the Dark Elves' warship invasion, and it had been an unusually peaceful period. The superheroes who once dominated the headlines gradually faded from public view, with little news of them to be found.
Iron Man was engrossed in upgrading his armor and the official launch of the Ultron program. The Fantastic Four flitted between talk shows and TV programs. The street-level heroes, constrained by the Superhuman Registration Act, could only occasionally take on gangs or minor villains... They were scattered and disorganized, no longer a formidable force.
In truth, people had also lost their enthusiasm for masked vigilantes. Thanks to live broadcasts from Brooklyn, they had witnessed firsthand how these seemingly invincible superheroes were utterly helpless against the alien warriors, even becoming the stars of a ridiculous farce.
To dim the halo of heroism, all it took was for people to see their human flaws...
Superheroes were not the omnipotent godlike figures they were often made out to be. They were merely mortals with extraordinary abilities.
Spider-Man could never stop the bullet that struck Uncle Ben. Captain America could never escape the loneliness and confusion in his heart. Even the Kryptonian from another universe, a god among men, harbored a sensitive and fragile soul beneath his indomitable physique.
Thus, when people saw this, they couldn't help but wonder... 'Can they really protect us?'
Once doubt took root, other questions inevitably followed.
On the other hand, the elite soldiers who appeared in the final battle became the darlings of the media and the public. Their advanced equipment and formidable skills left a deep impression on many.
The next day, a Department of Defense spokesperson announced that this unit belonged to General Thaddeus Ross, with weaponry provided by Umbrella Corporation. The two parties were collaborating to forge the strongest military force in human history...
The long-winded official statement boiled down to one message: superheroes were unreliable, and the public should place their trust in the government.
This declaration actually improved many people's previously skeptical view of the federal government. The newly inaugurated President Underwood saw his approval ratings skyrocket, making his re-election all but guaranteed.
As superhumans entered the public eye, an organization called S.H.I.E.L.D. also officially took the stage.
Alexander Pierce had once envisioned using S.H.I.E.L.D. as a front to bring HYDRA out of the shadows and into the light.
Now, that wish had been fulfilled... though not quite in the way the HYDRA leader who had died by the Winter Soldier's bullet had imagined.
The White House and the Department of Defense had taken control of S.H.I.E.L.D. General Ross replaced the missing Nick Fury and the deceased Alexander Pierce as its new leader. Sean Cyphers, the founder of Umbrella Corporation, was appointed as the highest advisor, with Helmut Zemo as field commander.
A brand-new S.H.I.E.L.D. emerged before the world, tasked with handling global supernatural incidents and major crises.
This clandestine agency, born during World War II and long shrouded in secrecy, had finally stepped into the spotlight...
....
~Times Square~
A tall man in casual clothes stood at the bustling intersection...
He remembered seeing this very scene when he first awoke from his long slumber; crowds streaming past, endless traffic, colorful billboards flashing, neon lights shimmering without pause.
A new era had burst into view this way, coldly reminding him that seventy years had passed.
He had gone from a scrawny soldier to a war hero adorned with medals and honors. He had defeated the Nazi armies of the Third Reich, HYDRA, and the Red Skull, only to lose his friends and the love of his life.
Steve Rogers gazed at it all with melancholy. He was out of place in this era. The war was over. His love had aged. Even his friends had become strangers.
Not long ago, Captain America had signed his name on the Superhero/Superhuman Registration Act, and walked out of prison with Sam Wilson, the Falcon.
As for Bucky, he would face a public trial, with Tony Stark serving as a witness.
What had changed Steve's mind was the Dark Elves' invasion. He had seen that superheroes were not invincible. The world needed new order. Heroes acting alone could never unite into a perfect team.
The reorganized S.H.I.E.L.D. had become the protector of this new world, boasting elite squads of super-soldiers, a global intelligence network, and a formidable mutant task force.
Amid this sweeping transformation, Steve asked himself, "When a true enemy emerges, do I really have the power to save anyone?"
The once-unshakable resolve of the skinny kid who had never backed down from bullies was now wavering. The strength of their foes only highlighted his own weakness. The superheroes who once struck fear into criminals and gangs no longer seemed capable of being the world's guardians.
Suddenly, a black sedan pulled up next to him. The window rolled down to reveal a young amiable face, "Captain Rogers, care for a drink?"
...
The two found a bar and sat at the counter, each ordering a beer. They chatted like old friends reunited after years apart...
"I often miss the old days, especially my time at Camp Lehigh," Steve said, taking a long swig of beer, nostalgia flickering in his eyes, "Maybe those were the happiest days of my life. Colonel Phillips, Peggy... I really miss that time."
"I never dwell on the past. I only look to the future," Sean replied softly.
Steve chuckled bitterly and shook his head. The man beside him never seemed lost, always knowing exactly where he was headed. It was something Steve envied deeply.
"In this era, I can't find my own worth. I want to do what's right, but I don't even know what is right anymore. Everyone has a different opinion about the country, about politics, about everything. You all make simple things so complicated. Maybe I really am getting old." Steve said as he set down his glass, staring at the dim light cast on the bar counter.
He seemed to recall the smoke-filled battlefields of the war. Back then, he had only wanted to enlist and serve his country. But the tides of history had swept him along, transforming him from a superhero into a national icon.
The young man beside him finished his drink, his gaze steady and profound, "Maybe it's time to let it all go, Captain Rogers. The duty of defending the nation, the identity of a superhero, even the title of Captain America. Don't you feel the weight of it all? You could live a life that belongs to Steve Rogers and have your own story. No one is born to save others. Responsibility is a virtue, but it shouldn't become chains that bind you."
Steve was silent for a long moment before finally murmuring, "Dr. Erskine once said the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles. It would create a regenerative and healing system in my cells. That means I can never get drunk."
He stared at the glass in front of him and said nothing more. He only ordered beer after beer until he reeked of alcohol.
In the end, Steve didn't remember when Sean left. A pile of empty glasses sat before him as he staggered out of the bar.
Gazing up at the hazy city lights, this 'old man' of the new era turned and walked away, lost in thought...