Warsaw, Poland, outskirts.
Nick Fury and the others sat on the lawn outside the Quinjet.
They were gathered around, watching a projection of Superman videos from the internet.
An hour had passed since the nuclear bomb exploded.
The cheers in the city had not stopped since then.
This normally leisurely city seemed to have suddenly become Rio de Janeiro during Carnival, its blazing enthusiasm leaving no room for even the slightest negative emotion.
Yet no matter how lively the atmosphere was, it could not reach Nick Fury's heart, which felt as though it were blocked by a massive boulder.
He could not accept that he had only now learned the full truth, and that the source had been a trending post online.
What he could accept even less was that Hydra, the great enemy he had been prepared to abandon everything to fight, had been dealt with so inexplicably.
Of course.
What he found hardest to accept was Superman's strength.
He had replayed the video of Superman flying out of the nuclear blast and blowing away the mushroom cloud dozens of times.
He simply could not understand how someone so absurdly powerful could exist on Earth.
Even Captain Marvel, his greatest trump card, who could unleash the power of ten nuclear explosions with one punch.
Now, she did not seem capable of posing a lethal threat to Superman.
The only thing that gave him any comfort.
Was probably that Tony Stark, whom he had thought highly of, had taken action and dealt with a Helicarrier.
That at least made Nick Fury feel as though he had played some part in this.
He sat on the grass with a grim expression, weighed down by worries.
His hand constantly rubbed the pager in his palm, as though he wanted to polish the