Black Widow Natasha, Captain America Steve, S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury, and Dr. Banner, who had returned to his normal human form, stood around an ambulance.
"You should've seen him beating on that corpse earlier. Those fighting moves were incredible—assuming you could make out more than a hundred strikes in one second."
Thor glanced at Ant-Man's corpse behind the cordon and reluctantly lowered his hands, still keyed up.
"Stark was on that tour bus. Twenty minutes ago, he kicked me for no reason," Hawkeye said from the stretcher. "Are you sure he's never been injected with some kind of superhuman serum?"
The kick had felt like being hit head-on by a sports car doing over 150 miles an hour—and that was after the driver had hit the brakes.
Natasha looked at Nick Fury. He said nothing, chewing gum as he scrolled through the tour group's passenger information on his tablet.
"Maybe his powers awakened?" Natasha joked. "Getting superpowers from a genetic mutation isn't exactly rare."
"I'd bet our scientist cooked up something powerful again." Steve rubbed his bruised eye socket and sucked in a breath.
Thor looked him up and down. "Did you fall onto the vibranium lady's chest too?"
It was the joke the fake captain had made in the elevator earlier.
"I got hit several times with a vibranium shield. The one he had was identical to mine."
"Wow. So that impostor took you down?"
"I could've fought him all day! But he had three masked accomplices."
"Doesn't sound great. Glad you're all right."
"Yeah. My butt still hurts a little, though."
After Steve said that, he noticed everyone staring at him strangely—even Nick Fury, who had been focused on something else.
Thor's eyes held a particularly strange mix of pity and discomfort. He patted Steve on the shoulder.