Steve's gaze darkened.
"I oppose handing everyone's right to act over to a system that could be abused. Free will can't be governed by approval forms."
"Nobody said we have to fill out a form before saving someone."
"The document says operations have to be reported."
"Major operations."
"Today it's major operations. Tomorrow it could be street rescues." Steve looked at him. "Once you leave an opening in the rules, someone will always keep cramming things through it."
Tony's voice dropped too.
"Freedom can't be an excuse for irresponsibility either."
Steve didn't answer immediately.
The two stared at each other across the conference table.
This time, neither cracked a joke.
Tony saw the price of losing control.
Steve saw the consequences of power extending its reach.
They could both hear the reason in the other's words.
And neither backed down.
Fury watched them, his tone still calm.
"Which is why we have to get this started."
Tony turned his head.
"Don't pretend you're just here to give us a reminder, Fury. What you want is a way in. A way to put every metahuman in a filing cabinet."
Fury looked at him.
"If the Avengers can guarantee they'll never make a mistake, I can shut up."
Tony sneered.
"Good news: we're not omnipotent gods. We do make mistakes."
Fury said, "Bad news: sometimes the consequences you cause are bigger than a god's."
Steve spoke. "Fury."
The conference room immediately went quiet.
He hadn't raised his voice, but every word was firm and measured.
"Public safety is open for discussion. Media control is open for discussion. Protection for minors is open for discussion too. Registering every metahuman in an official system is something I won't support."
Something shifted in Tony's eyes.
He looked at Steve.
"So you'd rather do nothing?"
"That's