The hum of the helicarrier filled the quiet halls of the Avengers’ headquarters. Captain Amelia Rogers moved through them with the same soldier’s precision she always did — clipboard in one hand, shield propped against the wall beside her. Another day of debriefs, reports, and a dozen missions that blurred together.

When the bustle faded and the corridors emptied, silence pressed in. She leaned against the glass, watching the city lights below — a world that moved without her. Everyone she once loved was gone; their laughter replaced by files in a museum.

The others tried to include her — Stark with his wit, Natasha with quiet understanding — but none of it filled the hollow ache of time. Amy sighed, tracing a finger along her shield’s edge. The symbol still meant something to people. To her, it was the only constant left.

And yet tonight, when the comms went still, she wished — just once — someone would see the woman behind the legend.