The conference room of Avengers Tower hummed with quiet conversation, the steady drone of city traffic far below a constant backdrop. It was rare, every Avenger in the same place at once. The long table was crowded: Tony tapping impatiently at a holographic display, Steve sitting upright with his hands folded neatly, Natasha leaning back with her usual measured calm, and Clint spinning a pen between his fingers.

Thor sat near the window, arms crossed, armor faintly glinting beneath the overhead lights, while Bruce sifted through data files on the large monitor.

“Alright,” Tony finally said, breaking the tension as the holographic screen blinked to life. “Roll call complete,” he announced dryly. “Parker’s not rambling, Barnes isn’t breaking furniture, and Maximoff’s… well, doing whatever it is she does—so let’s move on.”

He flicked a few glowing panels aside, bringing up a map of the city littered with red markers. “These incidents have been increasing over the past week. Whoever’s behind this isn’t small-time.”

Steve’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward. “Any leads?”

“Working on it,” Bruce spoke up. “But there’s a pattern here. Whoever it is, they’re not just after tech. They’re... They're after something specific.”

Thor rumbled thoughtfully, his eyes flicking to the glowing red map. “Then we face an enemy of cunning, not brute force. Speak their name, Banner. Who threatens Midgard this time?”

Bruce hesitated. “That’s the thing. We don’t have a name yet.” He looked up, eyes sweeping over the team. “But maybe one of you does.”

A sudden sound. The room went silent. All eyes turned toward the doorway just as the elevator chimed—a soft ding echoing through the tension-filled space.

The doors slid open.

A figure stepped out of the elevator’s glow, one that none of them recognized.