Steve Rogers was feeling overwhelmed. He was still struggling to fully grasp many modern concepts on Earth, let alone the fact that his next challenge would be facing aliens—beings completely beyond Earth's understanding. The pressure was immense, and that was why he had let slip that he sometimes wished to return to the simpler days of World War II.
"Steve Rogers, I understand that after watching those videos, you might be feeling a bit powerless," Coulson said, his tone calm and reassuring. "But you need to trust in your strength. You were Earth's first hero. Your power exceeds that of an ordinary human."
"If you can't contribute to the fight against these extraterrestrial threats, what hope do we regular humans have? We're relying on you to help bridge the gap between us and these otherworldly beings."
Coulson's words hit hard. "You aren't here to fight against them; you're here to fight with them, to form the Avengers. While they've joined the cause, their personalities are... complicated, to say the least. We can't communicate with them the way we normally would."
"We need you, Steve. S.H.I.E.L.D. needs your leadership, and more importantly, humanity needs your strength. Please, help us," Coulson pleaded earnestly, his respect for Steve evident in his voice.
Steve took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation settle in. He wasn't sure if he could live up to the expectations, but Coulson was right. Natasha and Clint, while excellent agents, were still dealing with human adversaries. This was going to be different—aliens were an unknown threat, and they were going to need all the help they could get.
"I hope I'm truly up for it," Steve finally said after a moment of contemplation. He doubted his abilities in the face of this new, cosmic-level threat. But he couldn't turn down Coulson's request.
"You are. There's no question about it," Coulson reassured him. "You have incredible combat instincts, and you're smart—smarter than most people give you credit for."
Relieved that he had convinced Steve, Coulson allowed himself a small smile. Steve Rogers was a symbol, not just to America but to all of humanity. Even though others like Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, and Thor were more powerful, Steve's presence brought a different kind of strength—something they needed desperately.
Sure, Steve might seem like an ordinary man compared to those titans, but Coulson knew that wasn't the case. Steve's heart and conviction were unmatched. And in a world filled with gods, monsters, and demons, they needed someone like him to rally behind.
Coulson also knew that Tony, Bruce, and the others held some level of respect for Steve. They might not always show it, but it was there. Steve's presence might just be the key to uniting the Avengers, and that was crucial.
"I understand," Steve said, sensing Coulson's deep admiration. The thought of failing these people was unbearable. He couldn't let them down.
"Oh, and we made a few modifications to your suit," Coulson added, his enthusiasm returning. "I had a hand in some of the design choices."
"My suit?" Steve raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go with that old star-spangled design, did you? Isn't that... a little outdated?"
After learning so much about modern culture, Steve couldn't help but feel that his old uniform was, well, pretty tacky. The idea of walking around in that outdated garb wasn't appealing. He much preferred his current look—casual and understated.
"Given the situation we're facing, I think people might need a little bit of that old-fashioned spirit again," Coulson said with a serious expression.
Coulson was right. While the Avengers' power levels had drastically increased with the likes of Tony Stark and the Hulk, the real concern lay in the enemy they were facing. This invader could manipulate minds, which made Tony Stark—one of their most powerful assets—potentially their greatest threat.
Steve's integrity and sense of justice might be the glue that kept the team together. He represented an ideal, and Coulson was banking on that to prevent things from falling apart.
Steve sighed. He didn't want to wear that outdated uniform again, but Coulson's words made it impossible to refuse.
At the same time, in a secret underground lab...
Loki was connecting his consciousness to the cosmos through the Mind Stone.
"The Chitauri are growing restless," a figure said, cloaked in black with alien armor and an ugly face masked by metal. In one hand, he held a scepter, his voice carrying a menacing edge.
"Tell them to restrain themselves," Loki responded coolly, masking his disdain for the Chitauri. "I will lead them in a glorious battle."
Though he didn't think the Chitauri stood a chance at conquering Earth—especially given what had happened to the Destroyer—Loki was still eager to see how things would unfold.
"A battle?" The Chitauri general turned to him, his voice dripping with scorn. "Crushing the insects of Earth is hardly what I'd call a battle."
"A glorious and easy victory," Loki shot back, his tone steady. "Provided your army is truly as invincible as you claim."
The general snarled, his eyes narrowing. "You dare to doubt us? Doubt him?"
"Don't forget," the general continued, voice rising, "he gave you that scepter. He imparted to you ancient knowledge and bestowed upon you a new purpose. You were nothing but a failure, cast out and forsaken."
Loki's face darkened at the reminder of his exile, his voice sharpening. "I was a king once. The king of Asgard betrayed and abandoned."
"Your ambitions are pitiful and small," the general sneered. "We are after more than Earth. The Tesseract will open doors to realms far beyond."
"Let's not forget who currently holds the Tesseract," Loki said coldly, his eyes flashing dangerously.