Marvel Zodiac knight

James strolled back to the bungalow, feeling the weight of the recent events pressing on his shoulders. Using his heightened senses, he scanned the surroundings and confirmed that Clarice and the other children had retreated to safety—no one else was around. With a sigh of relief, he stepped inside the building.

He hadn't tried to hide his identity from the children. After the recent scare, they would carry the shadows of that fear with them for a long time. Maybe having a hero close by could ease their worries, if only a little.

"James!" Clarice shouted, her voice brightening the dreary atmosphere as she bolted toward him.

James quickly reached out, catching her in his arms. "Hey there, I've got you," he said, holding her tightly while gently comforting her.

The other children remained still, either crouching or lying flat on the ground, too frightened to move. Only Dane had the courage to rise and approach James.

"Hey, man, is there anything I can do to help?" Dane asked, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Just then, a familiar red and blue figure swung in through the doorway.

"Spider-Man!" the children cried, their fear evaporating in an instant. "Spider-Man is here to save us!"

"Wow, no matter what happens, Spider-Man always comes to the rescue!" one child exclaimed.

The sight of James—who had been a source of comfort—was quickly overshadowed by the excitement of Spider-Man's arrival. The children rushed toward Peter, their shouts and laughter filling the air as they surrounded him, momentarily forgetting the danger they had just faced.

James quietly stepped out of the bungalow with Clarice and Dane, feeling a sense of disappointment settle in his heart. "Let Peter handle this," he murmured, knowing that the famed hero was more than capable of managing the aftermath.

---

Deep beneath the Atlantic Ocean, a massive creature lay dormant. It resembled an ancient behemoth, far larger than any blue whale, its size dwarfed only by the gargantuan steel structure hovering above it. This was not just a creature of the sea; it was a super sea-air amphibious fortress—a marvel of human engineering, designed for transport, rescue, and defense.

Due to the current peace, the aircraft carrier was in a state of quiet. Nick Fury, the director of S.H.I.E.L.D., was on board, conducting a routine inspection.

"Sir, phone call," a tall adjutant announced, handing over the device.

Fury answered, his brow furrowing immediately. "This is Nick Fury." He listened intently, his expression darkening. "Understood. I'll handle it."

He hung up and turned to his adjutant. "Hill, I need you to take charge here. I have to head back."

Hill raised an eyebrow, concern flickering in her bright blue eyes. "What's going on?"

Fury sighed, "There's trouble with Clint and Natasha's last operation. The FBI and other officials are raising questions about our procedures. It's a mess."

"They initiated the operation, and now they're pointing fingers?" Hill's frustration was palpable. "We were against this from the start."

"True, but we're still part of the government. Orders are orders. Plus, there are ties to Stark Industries, which raises suspicions." Fury's voice was firm as he spoke. "I'm pulling Clint and Natasha from this. We need to wrap it up quickly; I have a feeling things are about to get worse."

As Fury walked toward the hatch, he shot Hill a serious look. "You're in charge until I return."

With the hatch closed behind him, Hill stood for a moment, pondering her newfound authority.

---

In a sterile office, Clint and Natasha sat in silence, wrapped in bandages—both nursing injuries from their recent mission.

"They're blaming you for everything," a middle-aged man with a serious demeanor said, adjusting his glasses. "Including the missile incident that endangered those children."

Clint and Natasha exchanged glances but remained silent.

"The real issue is that you failed to utilize the Rankhoff brothers effectively. They're angry because you didn't secure the bait," the man continued. "But don't worry; the chief will support you. Those in charge have their hands full."

Clint stood, his frustration evident. "I'm taking a vacation. I won't be back until aliens invade," he declared, making his way toward the door.

Natasha followed suit. "Same here. Count me out until the world ends."

Suddenly, Fury appeared in the doorway, a smirk on his face. "Just leaving, are we?"

Clint shrugged. "What do you expect? Wait for the FBI to come in and humiliate us?"

"They won't have time for that," Fury replied, stepping inside. He handed Natasha a file. "Check this out. We might need this person for future operations."

As Natasha opened the file, she raised an eyebrow at the picture of a young Chinese student. "Who is this? You found his file in one night? I came back with Clint and didn't find anything."

Fury leaned back, a sly grin on his face. "I know a few people in high places."

Natasha rolled her eyes, tossing the file back at him. "Great. Send your 'great friend' to me. I'm taking a break."

"This isn't just a vacation, Agent Romanoff. You can do as you wish, but he's not attached to anyone yet," Fury replied, trying to keep his tone light.

Natasha smirked, her posture confident as she left the office, leaving Fury to ponder the impending challenges ahead.

---

The office fell quiet again. The middle-aged man shook his head, chuckling softly. "Can't they at least give me a chance to be part of the action?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," a janitor joked, waving a mop in the air.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," Agent Coulson said, stepping out with a smile, ready to tackle whatever awaited him outside.

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