"Tony, J.A.R.V.I.S., the Captain America you're talking about—he's the same one I read about in those old history books, right?"
Pepper, standing nearby, asked, sounding unsure.
"If J.A.R.V.I.S.'s information is correct, that's the same Captain America."
"But don't be too surprised, Pepper. We're already part of the Void and have experienced new worlds firsthand. The fact that some guy who's been dead for decades suddenly wakes up… Well, it's strange, sure, but not impossible."
Tony casually replied as he poured himself a glass of wine.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up Captain America's battle records."
"Right away, sir."
In response to Tony's order, J.A.R.V.I.S. displayed the key highlights of Captain America's combat history and some details about his physical enhancements.
"Two tons of strength, huh? Sure, he can grow stronger, but the limits of the serum are obvious. He can't reach the point where his body is bulletproof. His abilities aren't that impressive," Tony remarked while sipping his drink.
With the full performance of his Iron Man suit, Tony felt confident he could take on someone like Reno, a supersonic fighter, at full strength. Was he fighting someone of Captain America's level? That wouldn't be much different than handling regular terrorists.
Even his early-model suits from four or five generations ago could've dealt with a fighter like Cap easily.
Captain America's physical prowess was well beyond the average human's, but if he couldn't tank bullets with his body, his survival chances would be low. It'd take just a few modern weapons to handle him.
"Even though his strength isn't top-tier, Nick Fury will probably still recruit him into the Avengers," J.A.R.V.I.S. commented.
After connecting to the universe-wide network during their time on Xandar, J.A.R.V.I.S.'s perspective had broadened significantly.
From what he could tell, Captain America's strength was, at best, on par with someone who'd just joined the Void Church on Void Island.
As for those who had been with the Void Church longer or already possessed superhuman abilities, Captain America's beyond-human strength wasn't anything special in comparison.
"Sure, Cap's strength might not mean much in a cosmic sense, but for dealing with terrorists here on Earth, he's more than capable," Tony admitted.
"Fury doesn't have many people left that he can command, so recruiting Captain America isn't surprising."
"Still, let's not focus too much on him. Keep an eye on the bigger picture. The alien invasion is the real priority."
Tony's voice grew more serious.
He was eager to deal with the alien threat as quickly as possible. Once that was handled, he could turn his attention to the wider universe and stop being restricted to Earth.
"Understood, sir,"
J.A.R.V.I.S. responded promptly.
Tony and Pepper chatted a bit more before Tony went back to his tech research. He had acquired vast amounts of knowledge, and it would take time to refine and integrate it, turning it into real power.
One month passed. By now, it was May.
In a house on a street in Brooklyn, New York, a tall, handsome man with a muscular build, blond hair, and striking blue eyes stood in a room that looked almost identical to the one from his past.
Steve Rogers, Captain America, had been awake for three days.
In that time, he'd learned that he had been frozen for several decades and had only been revived in 2011.
During those decades, America had rapidly advanced. While some people might have fantasized about traveling to the future, the reality was far more bitter. Most of the people Steve had known were long dead, leaving him to roam a world where he alone remained unchanged.
His youthful appearance was the same as before, but everything else was foreign. This sense of isolation didn't inspire excitement for the future—only a deep, gnawing loneliness.
As Steve surveyed the room's old-fashioned decor and then glanced out the window at the bustling modern city, he couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of being out of place.
But Steve Rogers wasn't the type to wallow in despair. No matter what, he couldn't bring himself to consider ending it all.
He was determined to see what had become of the America he once fought for, so he stepped outside, walking along the busy streets.
Gone were the familiar faces and shops he remembered. In their place were towering skyscrapers and modern buildings.
Humans, dwarfed by the size of these structures, seemed so small in comparison.
As Steve strolled through the neighborhood, his attention was caught by one particularly hideous building with terrible aesthetic design. His eyes landed on a bold sign: Stark Industries.
He took a seat at a nearby café.
At least, despite all the changes over the decades, the language remained largely the same. He could still communicate without difficulty.
As he sipped his coffee, Steve studied the imposing Stark Tower across the street. From the looks of it, Stark Industries had withstood the test of time. Over the decades, the company hadn't faltered but instead thrived. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been able to erect such a massive building in the heart of New York City.
From what Steve had gathered, Stark Industries was now run by Howard Stark's son, Tony Stark.
Both father and son were brilliant inventors, with minds far ahead of their time.
However, Tony seemed to be more flamboyant than his father—more of a playboy. According to what Steve had read, Tony was born in 1970, making him 41 now. Yet, he still hadn't settled down and was instead wrapped up in the role of Iron Man, basking in public adoration.
To Steve, who had experienced the horrors of war firsthand, Tony's heroism seemed more like a child playing pretend.
After finishing his coffee, Steve headed back to his house. But when he opened the door, he found a man sitting inside—a bald Black man with an eyepatch.
"Who are you?"
Steve's expression tightened slightly, but he remained calm as he asked the question.
"My name is Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."
"I'm the one responsible for rescuing you from the ice and bringing you back to life."
"I think we should talk."
Fury sat comfortably in an armchair, looking at Steve as he spoke.
"It seems I don't need to introduce myself, then. What do you want to talk about, Director Fury?"
Steve leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze steady as he waited for a response.
"You're a super soldier, enhanced by the serum. If we count your time in the ice, you're far older than me."
"So, out of respect for my elders, you can just call me Fury."
Fury smirked as he spoke.