While Deathstroke and his cousin were horsing around in a morgue more than a dozen blocks away, Captain America's group was under tremendous pressure.
With the arrival of the giant bugs, massive numbers of Zerg minions descended upon everyone's heads like black clouds.
Even though a mysterious figure had driven back that living warship, the incoming Zerg army had not retreated. On the contrary, its assault on the ground had become even fiercer.
Even with Falcon's support, faced with bugs that could nearly fill the air above the streets, Steve and the others were once again trapped inside a building.
And this time, their luck was even worse. Several small warships had also locked onto the building, using energy cannons to dismantle it bit by bit as if chewing sugarcane.
The group, along with some rescued Survivors, huddled behind the furniture in the lobby, tending wounds or discussing plans.
Steve was still troubled by the people in the bank vault who had suddenly died. He could not understand why those who refused to cooperate had silently dropped dead. Had someone in the group done it?
Although the remaining Survivors had obediently followed Deadpool and Spider-Man into the sewers and escaped safely, that was never what Steve had wanted. He wanted to save everyone, not play some tyrannical game where obedience meant survival and defiance meant death.
Who could have done it? Deadpool had been shouting all along about killing anyone who would not listen, but he had not actually done anything. Forget Sarin Gas—even after digging around in his pockets for ages, the most threatening thing he had pulled out was a bundle of Red Detonators.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents? That did not seem likely either. Coulson, Natasha, Cavalry, Sitwell, Crossbones, and the others were all old acquaintances. They simply did