Amid the sweeping tide of change, Superheroes had already become relics of the past. They might still prowl the streets and alleys of cities, becoming masked vigilantes after nightfall to fight criminal syndicates and gangland thugs.
However, from the moment the Registration Act was implemented, they had stood on the same side as criminals in the public eye—Superheroes who had not registered with the government were placed on wanted lists alongside those villains.
Besides, a new world order was taking shape. In this freshly remade landscape, there was no place for Superheroes.
Once again, it proved that individual strength was always insignificant before the tide of history. A single bill had left heroes with nowhere to put their abilities to use.
After having a few drinks with Captain America, Sean did not return to Umbrella on Long Island. Instead, he boarded the private jet that had come to collect him and flew toward Washington D.C. beneath the bright moonlight.
Less than half an hour later, the silver-white aircraft, emblazoned with a Bald Eagle, slowly descended onto the rooftop of the S.H.I.E.L.D. Triskelion.
Sean stepped out of the cabin and saw Mystique Raven, who had been waiting in the night wind for some time. Her voluminous golden curls and blue business suit gave her an especially alluring appearance.
"So, this is your first time coming to your own territory, isn't it?" Mystique covered her mouth and laughed.
Recently, she had been helping Sean deal with Hydra's remnants. Alexander Pierce was dead, Viper had also died in Japan, and Baron Strucker, far away in Eastern Europe, posed little concern. Of that vast and tenacious organization, only Whitehall, who was researching extraterrestrial civilizations, remained.
At Sean's instruction, Mystique used her special abilities to infiltrate Hydra, consolidate part of its remaining forces, and send