The image on the screen flickered back to static, then went completely black.
No cheers immediately erupted on the streets of New York, nor did cries immediately ring out.
After several seconds of utter standstill, screeching brakes, shattering glass, and hysterical screams erupted all at once.
"Aliens... they're all fucking aliens!"
"S.H.I.E.L.D. kept them! They said it plain as day on TV!"
"Don't touch me! Get your hands off! Who the hell are you?!"
Pedestrians who had been standing side by side waiting at traffic lights minutes earlier now sprang apart as if they had encountered the plague. A middle-aged man clutched his briefcase, backing away frantically as he stared at the acquaintance who had just patted his shoulder. He looked less like he was staring at a neighbor than at a monster wearing human skin.
How long had it been since the Battle of New York? The horrific scenes of the Chitauri descending from the sky to invade had yet to fade from their minds, and now this: the real invasion had happened long ago, right under their noses, even in their beds.
The authorities could not be trusted, and S.H.I.E.L.D. had become the biggest accomplice.
Many people scrambled home, bolted their security doors, and drew every curtain. But some were different. The civilians who had lined up for shots of Compound V a while back stood firmly where they were instead. They could not tell who the green-skinned lizards were either, but feeling the power surging through their bodies gave them some confidence at last.
At least if someone really tried to replace them, they could punch the other person's head apart instead of stretching out their necks like chickens waiting to be slaughtered.
"Go to Vought International!"
Someone in the chaotic crowd shouted at the top of