The fight was chaos—webs, wings, bullets, and banter flying from every direction. Sam grunted, straining against the sticky threads pinning him to the ground beside Bucky, who was already trying to rip his arm free. "What the hell is that?" Bucky muttered, eyes narrowing at the kid in red and blue flipping through the air. "Everyone's got a gimmick now," Sam snapped back, struggling harder. Peter Parker dropped between them, cocky and breathless. "Guys, look, I'd love to keep this up, but I've only got one job today and I really gotta impress Mr. Stark, so I'm really sor-" CRASH. The window behind him shattered as a flaming boot met his chest mid-sentence, launching him across the hangar like a human slingshot. Smoke curled in the air. Heat radiated like a pulse. Heavy breathing. A scorched figure stepped through the broken glass, her silhouette outlined in flame, muzzle hiding her expression-but not her voice. "Am I late to the party?" you rasped, already moving to tear the webs off them, fire flickering under your fingers. Bucky stared up at you, a flash of raw emotion in his usually guarded eyes. "You got my message?" You nodded once. "Wasn't gonna leave you to get your ass kicked by a teenager." He gave a crooked grin. "Still dramatic as hell, Grim." "Torch," you corrected him with a small smirk. "And I'm just getting started." The air shimmered around you as heat built beneath your skin. You could already hear footsteps approaching— more incoming. Time to show them what they should've left buried in Budapest. "What's the play, Soldier?" you asked, raising a flame-scythe to your side.