After hearing this man's words, Fury was momentarily taken aback, his one good eye narrowing slightly.
Three more who haven't come?
No.
He sat up straighter, pressing his hand flat on the table as if grounding himself. Then, in a firm tone meant to leave no room for argument, he replied, "No. They're all here already. Even Lang and Prince T'Challa are present."
His voice carried conviction, but in truth, even Fury knew how thin the ground beneath his words was.
The government official, Congressman Brooke, tilted his head, squinting suspiciously. His brow furrowed as though weighing Fury's words against his own certainty. From tone alone, Fury didn't seem to be lying, yet Brooke's instincts screamed that something wasn't right.
Without another word, he snapped open the latches on his slim black briefcase and pulled out a thick stack of photographs and dossiers. He spread them across the table with the air of a man revealing trump cards.
"These," he said, tapping the stack, "are all the people who should be present in this room."
The glossy photos fanned out like a deck of cards. Each sheet bore not only a face but a full dossier: name, nationality, height, age, known abilities, even habits and family backgrounds.
The Avengers, seated around the long conference table, exchanged glances. It was unsettling how much the government knew about them.
Brooke began to read aloud, his voice echoing through the sterile meeting room.
"Iron Man, Tony Stark. Male. Age forty-five. Largest shareholder of Stark Industries. Wears an advanced battle suit equipped with heavy offensive weaponry, near-impenetrable defenses, and full flight capabilities."
Even more details could be seen further below but he didn't bother to read it all.
Tony shifted in his chair, smirking faintly, though his fingers drummed against the polished wood.
"Captain America, Steve Rogers. Male. Age one-hundred and eight. The only successful subject of the Super Soldier Project."
Steve pressed his lips together, expression unreadable, though some glanced at him with a hint of sympathy.
"Spider-Man, Peter Parker. Male. Seventeen years old. High school student, New York City. Possesses spider-like physiology, super strength, enhanced reflexes, wall-crawling ability, uses custom made web shooters…"
Peter, red-faced, hunched lower in his chair, muttering, "Does he really have to say my age out loud…"
Around the room, silence grew heavy as Brooke continued, his voice clinical, detached. Each Avenger present was reduced to a line item, a weapon in a catalog.
When he reached the last few files, however, his smooth recitation faltered. His brows drew together.
The photo in his hand showed a young woman with long auburn hair, piercing green eyes, and high cheekbones above bow-shaped lips.
"Scarlet Witch. Wanda Maximoff. Female. Seventeen years old. Orphan from a New York City orphanage. Left the orphanage at sixteen. Currently residing in a grocery store on 58th Avenue in Manhattan. Abilities include control over a red energy resembling telekinesis, capable of flight."
Fury's jaw tightened. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, his one eye darting toward Wanda's picture before fixing back on Brooke. The faintest crease of worry lined his face.
"Congressman Brooke," Fury interjected, voice flat but with an edge of warning. "This individual isn't under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s jurisdiction. She can't be classified as a superhero, and she doesn't need to be part of this agreement."
Brooke turned to him sharply, clear irritation flashing across his face.
"Director Fury," he said, his tone clipped, "you of all people should understand. Any person with powers living in the United States must be registered and made to sign this Superhero Management Agreement. Anyone who refuses…" His lips thinned. "…will be considered a criminal. That is the law we're establishing here."
The man's words rang through the room like a hammer on steel.
For the Avengers, the atmosphere soured. Their shoulders sagged under the weight of his declaration. Yet at the mention of Wanda, something unexpected happened, their eyes flickered, almost lighting up.
Because how could they not know Wanda?
To them, she wasn't just "Scarlet Witch." She was Luke Yale's girlfriend, and proudly so. She made sure everyone but Luke heard it. If another woman so much as glanced twice at Luke, Wanda would quickly remind them he was very much taken.
And now, this arrogant Congressman wanted to force Luke's girlfriend to sign his ridiculous accords?
Clint leaned back in his chair, hiding a grin behind his hand. Natasha's lips curved, though she schooled her expression before Brooke could notice. Even Steve's eyes softened with restrained amusement.
The Avengers struggled not to burst out laughing.
It was almost too perfect.
Because if Brooke ignored Fury's warning, if he really went down this path, then they all knew what was coming next.
The only ones who looked bewildered were Peter, T'Challa, and Scott. The newer members sat stiffly, confused glances darting between their teammates.
Wanda? Why's everyone reacting like that?
Peter scratched the back of his neck, whispering, "Uh… did I miss a memo?"
T'Challa's brows were knitted, his gaze sharp and calculating.
Scott shrugged helplessly. "I'm guessing she's… important?"
Even Pietro's lips curled upward. He had already been educated during his short time in S.H.I.E.L.D. about his brother-in-law's rather legendary exploits. So when his twin sister's name came up, he leaned forward, arms crossed, feeling expectant.
If Wanda's file is here, Luke's can't be far behind.
Meanwhile, Fury grew quiet. Because as Brooke flipped Wanda's dossier aside, something else slid into view, a second photograph beneath it.
And Fury recognized the face immediately.
Luke Yale.
A thrill of satisfaction sparked in Fury's chest, though he kept his face carefully controlled.
If this fool wants to involve Luke, then let him. It'll blow up in his face. And frankly… he will enjoy watching it.
Fury's lips twitched as though suppressing a smile, and for a moment, his eye gleamed with amusement. He gave Brooke the barest nod of encouragement, the kind a poker player offers when they know the other man is about to bet everything on a losing hand.
Brooke, misinterpreting the gesture as agreement, straightened proudly. He set Wanda's file aside and picked up the next one.
He read aloud:
"Luke Yale. Male. Nineteen. From the same orphanage as Wanda Maximoff. Currently the owner of a grocery store on 58th Avenue in Manhattan. Abilities: unknown? Possesses a strange Siberian husky? Also documented with a shapeshifting car?"
His voice grew incredulous as he read further.
"What the hell is this supposed to mean?"
He flipped the page around, waving it in mild outrage.
"The others have clear abilities listed. But here it says unknown? And why in God's name is his dog mentioned? A… shapeshifting car?!"
A murmur rippled across the table. Tony raised his brows, looking positively entertained. Bruce chuckled before coughing into his fist to disguise it. Natasha arched an eyebrow, her expression saying everything: good luck with that one, Congressman.
Brooke stared at the paper feeling baffled.
"Unknown?!" he repeated. "What kind of nonsense is this? Is this supposed to be the same car that took down Iron Monger?"
He shook his head, clearly irritated. He didn't know Luke well. He'd heard a few scraps of rumor, but nothing had prepared him for a file this… bizarre.
With a dismissive snort, he set Luke's file aside. "Doesn't matter. Whoever they are, they'll be called in to sign, just like the rest."
He grabbed the final dossier.
"Sharon Carter. Female. Age twenty-three. Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Wields a hammer capable of summoning lightning and granting flight."
Brooke let out a sigh of relief. "At least that sounds more normal."
He stacked the remaining files neatly, then turned sharply toward Fury. "These three are missing. Call them. Tell them to get here immediately."
The command was brisk, arrogant, as if ordering Fury was his right.
Yet, surprisingly, Fury offered no objection. Instead, he calmly pulled out his phone and slid it across the table. "They should be together. Luke's number is here. You can call him and tell him yourself."
Brooke froze. His eyes narrowed. "You… want me to make the call myself?"
Fury spread his hands, feigning helplessness. His tone was smooth, casual, but with a flicker of slyness underneath. "He blocked me. Even if I use a different number, the moment he hears my voice he'll hang up. I have no choice but to trouble you, Congressman. Someone with your authority has a better chance of convincing him."
Around the table, several Avengers nearly choked because of holding back their laughter.
Tony coughed deliberately into his fist, muttering, "Oh, this is going to be good."
Clint leaned toward Natasha, whispering, "Popcorn, Nat. How I wish we had popcorn to watch this."
Natasha's lips curved faintly. "No need. The show's about to start."
…