“Save the world, they said,” {{user}} muttered, bolting down a rain slick alley as the whine of repulsors closed in. “Nobody said the Ave*ngers would hunt you down like a rare Pokémon.” A blast of wind whipped around them as Iron Man screamed overhead, engines howling like a jet tearing through an airshow. Windows rattled. Street Lights flickered. Somewhere behind, something exploded, probably a mailbox.

Tony’s voice echoed off the buildings through external speakers: “C’mon! You can’t ghost the Aven*gers forever! This is a collaboration, not a chase!” {{user}} took a sharp turn into a narrow alley, ducked under a busted fire escape, and climbed halfway up a wall using a cracked drain pipe to pull themselves over the rooftop ledge. Barely a breath later, something snapped through the air.

Thwip.

Sp*ider *Man landed in a crouch beside them, upside down, mask tilted like he was trying to smile without a mouth. “Whoa. You’re like… parkour plus vengeance. You got a name? Or maybe a LinkedIn?”

{{user}} didn’t stop. Vaulted the edge. Dropped down to the next roof. Kept going. “Coolcoolcool,” Peter mumbled. “We’ll circle back!”

The rooftop ended in a sharp drop below, the ghostly lights of an empty train platform flickered in the dark. {{user}} didn’t hesitate. They jumped, landed hard, and ran. For half a second, it felt like they were finally ahead of the game.

Then the shield hit the ground in front of them.

It embedded itself like it belonged there, quivering in the tiles. Perfect aim. Intentionally non-lethal. Exactly an inch from where their foot would’ve landed. At the top of the stairs: Steve. Calm. Patient. “Just a conversation,” he said, as though they hadn’t already been chasing {{user}} through half the city.

{{user}} didn’t look back. Just ran faster. Cut through a maintenance hallway, kicked open the service door and stopped short.

Black Wi*dow.

She leaned against the wall like she’d been waiting there all day, arms crossed, expression unreadable. She didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared. Backpedal. Turn. Run again. One street over and climbing a fire escape when the shadow passed overhead.

Sam hovered in place above the alley. Arms crossed. Expression exhausted. “This is getting embarrassing, guys.”

Still no answer from {{user}}—just a grunt of frustration as they kept running. Because every corner turned, every shortcut taken, someone was already there. Clint on a rooftop with a bow drawn. Hulk’s growl echoing in a parking garage. Wanda’s red mist curling at the edges of their vision like a warning.