Deep in the heart of a military base near the West Coast, a technician monitoring the operations of a satellite bank was leaning back in his chair, boredom settling into his very soul as he switched between camera monitors. A few had been mounted to the satellites, as a way to track the International Space Station whenever it passed. It was a boring duty he'd rather have been on latrine-scrubbing duty instead, to be honest. The appeal at staring out at little white dots, and occasionally the twisted structure of the station when it happened to chance nearby, had vanished about a week after he'd been assigned the task.

Clicking to the next, he blinked, his spine stiffening as he noticed the abnormality upon the screen. Wonderment and fear started to flood through him, and he frantically snatched up the ancient phone positioned next to his monitor. The call went through after barely a second, and he asked for his commanding officer to come to his bank immediately. Short, tense minutes passed as he stared at the screen, barely noting the officer's arrival and managing a clumsy salute.

"What is it?" the commanding officer on duty asked him, nodding for him to drop the salute and return to his seat. Unable to truly explain, the young technician flapped a hand at the recording on the screen.

"It's..."

The officer watched as the technician pointed and the camera twitched, capturing the approach of something...strange. An unfamiliar space vehicle, chrome in color and lit up with various lights, stealthily floated through the darkness, its unusual H-shaped causing eyebrows to rise. As it came into clearer view, other dots of chrome and bronze seemed to follow behind it. Understanding with deep dread what he was looking at, the officer discreetly swallowed. He remembered the call, the dossier that had been forwarded to him from the Pentagon that told him he and his men would have to be on the look-out for such a thing. Now, it seemed, it had arrived.

There was only one course of action to consider. Dipping his chin, he gestured to the technician to stay put, retrieving his own smartphone from his pocket and hitting the speed dial.

"Time to call Colonel Rhodes, and the Avengers," he murmured, the commands for all to remain vigilant at at their posts spat out before the first call could connect.

xXxXxXx

It was impossible to miss what happened over the course of that day, when the first alarm was raised. The Pentagon, and Rhodes, had forwarded calls to the base, getting in touch with Fury, Hill, and the captain stationed there. Alien crafts had entered the space just beyond the atmosphere of the earth, just as they had been warned. Yet there was no further movement or message from them. Though they had been warned of a possible attack, they were unprepared for stillness. What would they do?

They had merely been the first to call. Others, including leaders and military members from several other countries had made contact, demanding what should be done. All three, along with the gathered Avengers, and even the Defenders, had warned them to stand poised and ready. There had been plans in place for days, and it would not do to not be prepared for the worst yet to come.

And then, the message came. It had disrupted all airwaves and satellites, demanding to be heard. Bucky Barnes had been in his office, yet another sleepless night passed in preparing for the incoming assault, when JJ fed him the alert. The AI actually sounded disturbed, and he was hardly surprised if it was. Conceding to his question of turning on his screen to watch it, Barnes sat up in his seat, his teeth gritting hard as the abductor of his friends and allies, the threat to Earth, appeared. He sat upon what looked like a throne, the golden armor upon his person solidifying his conquering form.

"Terrans, you have one chance," the purple-skinned, shadowed menace intoned. His deep voice rang out with the scorn and irritation of the ages. Red eyes narrowed in on the screen, and the invader continued, "Surrender what is mine, and I will let you walk. Most of you. The offenders you sent against me, though, will have to pay the price.

"However, withhold what I seek, and I will not rest until I have destroyed every last one of you who stands in the way of me and my quarry. You will have one planetary rotation to meet this demand via this paltry satellite system." Holding up what appeared to be a holographic, digital map emanating from a small disk in his palm, he nodded to it. The Western hemisphere was showing out, the green outlines of North and South America glimmering brightly. Pointing at it, he concluded, "When next I see this landmass, and if I have heard nothing but silence, I will take it as your declaration against me."

After that, the screen went briefly black, before the scroll of a ticker line and the anchors of the news program JJ had turned it to began speculation about the future of the world.

Muting the audio, he closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he considered what had been presented. War had been declared, or an eventual war, if the Vision was not turned over. Just as they had suspected. Thanos had threatened annihilation if they stood in his way. Again, just as they had foreseen.

All that remained, then, was to go forward.

Somehow, despite the numerous obstacles thrown at them, and the doubts, the majority of the free world's leaders had voted in favor of arming themselves. All troops already at military bases were preparing, last minute call-ins being performed as they stood by for deployment. Wakanda had sent a contingent, along with their king, to meet with Nick Fury the day prior, T'Challa donning his guise as the Panther and promising the aid of his people, whatever the price. Agents within and around were armed and waiting, along with Coulson's special team.

They had just been waiting for this, for this exact moment. The edge had been reached it was time to tip over.

With Thanos' time limit, he estimated that they would have only a few hours. Likely until morning.

Bucky picked up his smartphone, calling Hill and merely telling her to sound the call before hanging up again. Rising from his desk, he strode out into the hall, finding himself face to face with the remaining team members. Joe Chapman, along with his fellows, blended in seamlessly, and the Defenders even stood awaiting orders. The enormity of his duties, of the role he had to assume since Steve was unable to, settled heavily upon his shoulders again, but he took in a deep breath and sighed through it. A command was given, one to get ready and meet upon the upper deck was issued. As one, the others moved towards the elevator bank, ready to take it to their storage spaces and ready themselves for battle. Only one lagged behind, Natasha's ocean-colored eyes boring into him as she stared up at him. Extending his metal palm out to her, she did not hesitate to put her hand in his, letting him draw her in. The weight of the last few days (weeks, months...who knew) was forgotten for a moment as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. They would be fighting side by side, perhaps to death, but they could have a moment. They would have their moment together. Fingers snaked around the collar of his shirt, tugging him down so that she could soundly kiss him. The graze of lips was firm, silent promises and wishes hovering between them when they eventually parted. Smoothing a hand over her hair, Bucky inclined his chin at Natasha, her answering nod following seconds later. Slowly, he let her go again, watching as she turned and strode away. He would join her downstairs, but not quite yet.

There was one person missing from the gathering, and it would not do to leave him out.

Barnes descended to the apartment levels at the back, speculating how his quarry would likely be there. Peter Parker had not been in the labs since his arrival at the base a few days ago, and it would be best to start there.

He, along with the Defenders, had been flown in, the last of the powered and privileged beings summoned for the world's defenses. The team, those who had come through and back to Earth, had greeted them on the platform, Lang leading the Defenders to a few apartments given over to their use, and Barnes showing him to his. May Parker's presence, in the end, was permitted, if slightly questioned. But she'd shown her steel in refusing to abandon her nephew when he needed support the most, a deceptively mild insistence that they would need her, too. After all, it was people like her that the Avengers fell back upon in times of crisis.

No doubt he would be with her now.

Soon enough, he came to the hall that housed his rooms, and the older man knocked hard against the door. Within moments, the portal swung open, the teenager staring up at him expectantly. Barnes, in turn, glanced past him briefly. Since his upgrade to Junior Avenger status, and as he was to attend Stark at the base for the summer, he did merit rooms of his own. However, they had not been repainted or furnished beyond the basics, which left him a kitchenette with no cooking implements, a bedroom with a partially assembled dresser, and a living/work space with a couch and a desk, but not a television or computer. In truth, he was just grateful to have a place to sleep and drop his things after snatching what he could from home and the Tower, and said as much to them.

Such was the case before him, though May was perched upon the sofa, the lines of worry in her face cutting harshly. Much as she likely wished a summons would not happen, there was a form of expectation in her eyes. Inhaling sharply, Bucky looked back to the young man before him again.

"You still want in, kid?" he asked, not bothering to explain that the call to arms was being distributed even now. He could hear another news program playing in the background, the last of the day's light playing through the windows across the television screen. They knew, they understood.

He could see it in Peter's eyes as well. The knowledge, and the hunger, sat within, and he drew himself to his full height under the older man's scrutiny.

"Yes, sir," he replied, nodding. Bucky took a step back then, gesturing for him to leave the apartment and meet his promise.

"Suit up, and be on the upper platform in fifteen," he commanded quietly, turning his back to let the teenager share a farewell with his aunt. Though she could bluster and bluff her way in, she could not extract her nephew from his own wishes and wants. Neither of them needed a witness to that surrender, to the good-byes, and so he would not allow himself to stay. He had barely pressed the button to summon the elevator when he heard hard tromps behind him, Peter's sneakers deadened by the carpet beneath them.

As it turned out, he and the kid were the last ones to be getting ready, the locker rooms nearly silent. Despite the enlarged numbers of those gathered, they'd all managed to get ready and get out before his arrival, and he could not help but be a little pleased with that. His suit, which had been shoved away since the return home, was fetched up, the midnight blue and dark red allowing the white star to stand out. It and the shield loomed before him, the final reminders of his friend's surrendered status staring back at him briefly. Would it be the only reminder he would have, once the battle was joined?

He would not allow himself to think so, and so he would not. The suit slid on easily, buckles and packs secured into place along his waist. Two guns were secured into thigh holsters, knives sheathed and strapped to the belt. Gloved gauntlets were drawn on, boots laced up, and his marked cowl pulled over his head. Lastly, the vibranium disk came to hand, swinging easily onto the magnetic clips on his back harness. Glancing once in the mirror, the persona of Captain America stared back. Not Steve, but himself.

The world needed Steve, but they only had Bucky, and what he could offer. Bucky, not the soldier, not the assassin...just himself. It would have to be enough.

Stepping out, he found himself assessing the teenager waiting for him down the way. The red and blue suit molded to his person, the spider at the center of his chest glinting in the lights of the hall. The white eye pieces seemed to retract slightly as he approached, giving off the impression that Parker was examining him, too. It was difficult to believe, he supposed, that any of them would have ever reached that point two years ago.

But they had, and it was time to progress past it. They needed to meet upstairs with the others, the helicarrier their destination. After all, Bucky still had one more thing to do before heading into battle the next morning, and he refused to not see it done.

xXxXxXx

Twilight had come onto the farm valley, the warm breeze not a balm in the least.

The news had broken a mere hour beforehand, that the Avengers, and the world, would be fighting against Thanos. The captain had yet to make a statement, or address the foul invading creature himself, but it would only be a matter of time before a formal declaration would be sent.

Holly Rogers was perched on the edge of the sofa in the front room of the Barton farmhouse, staring out the window as the last touches of the sun grazed the Earth. Little baby Iris was in her arms, having calmed after a feeding and indulging in a nap in her mother's embrace. Grant, along with the Barton children, was playing in the den, under Laura's watchful eye. Holly's mother had since returned to Minnesota, the first week with the infant passing under her watchful gaze. However, neither Fury nor Hill could keep her presence away from home under wraps for longer than that, and so she had gone, her assistance to her youngest child given and her grandchildren kissed good-bye.

Holly wondered if she could beg for a bit of mercy, now that she knew what was definitely coming.

She ran a finger over the baby's wispy locks, treasuring the warmth of her little body and taking a shaky breath. The radio in the kitchen was no longer on, the consent of the world's leaders to mobilize and ready for extraterrestrial attack having interrupted dinner for them all. Lila and Cooper had turned fearfully to their own mother, whose mouth had set in a grim line as she cradled little Nate close to her. Grant, like Nate, did not truly comprehend what was happening, what loomed on the horizon of the next day, but the clear distress in his mama's face was something he could not ignore. It took everything in Holly's power to assure him that nothing was wrong, that once he finished eating he could go play again with his friend. She had not dared look at Lila, her brown eyes wet with unshed, fearful tears, nor Cooper, his jaw tightening and his hand tight around Laura's wrist. The meal passed in stony silence, the air filled with the radio personality's conjectures and theories before the older woman finally got up and switched it off.

As Laura bundled the children into the den, promising a good movie and some ice cream, Holly had responded to the cries coming through the ever-present monitor that followed her everywhere. Due to the lack of bedrooms, Iris slept in the spare room with Holly, the small travel bassinet a makeshift crib until it would be safe to return home to New York.

If it ever would be safe, she mused darkly, fetching up her daughter and bringing her downstairs for her feeding. Holly still wished to be close to the others, even if she needed the seclusion to feed Iris in peace. Her gaze took in the sight out the front window, glazing over the porch to the fenced field and trees beyond. The last glow of the hour coated the grass and the leaves, gold and red shot through the clouds.

The war was inevitable, she had known that. It did no good to deny it.

She just wished she could have heard from Steve in the meantime. Something was wrong, she could feel it in her gut. The commander of the world's elite task force should have been the one to call out to the nations, should have been the one that they speculated about what sort of declaration he would give in response. Yet it was Bucky, Captain America, who had been delegated.

She knew of the broad strokes of their contingencies, if not the exact details. Something was wrong with Steve, if he could not be the one to respond. And that had fright choking her, clawing at her heart even as it thumped in her chest. Bonnie, from her spot on the rug in front of her, raised her head, dark eyes watching she lifted the baby up and pecked her soft cheek.

"Please, God, keep them safe," Holly whispered, laying Iris against her chest and murmuring a prayer as she rocked. Perhaps it was futile, perhaps not, but it was the most she could do for the team at the moment. Pray, and hope, for them and for her husband. Her eyelids squeezed shut, her stomach clenching as she continued, "Please, keep him safe."

The corgi got up then, trotting over to her and bumping her head against her shin, almost like a cat in that instant. After some negotiation and pleading looks, the little dog wiggled her way onto the sofa, her chin and one paw resting on Holly's knee as she huffed out a breath. The woman felt the tug at the corner of her mouth as she sighed, shaking her head at the comfort the small animal had attempted to provide.

She was still there when Laura came in, Grant asleep in her arms. Silently, the pair maneuvered the toddler onto the other cushion, his head braced against his mother's other thigh as he slept. The two shared a long look before Laura dipped her chin, leaving her with the family Holly had helped create. The younger woman laid her palm lightly on her boy's chest, the other supporting her daughter as she leaned back into the cushions and swallowed hard. All she could do was pray, and hope, and protect the two precious children she had been given. Until her last breath, if she had to.

Though she wished it would not come to that.

"Please, please," she begged quietly, night enveloping the sky and edging them closer to the promised battle on the morrow.

xXxXxXx

Three more times was Steve Rogers brought away from the cells, returning with new cuts and bruises each time. And each time, he had less to say about the ordeal. In his determination not to crack under the strain and injuries the Red Skull put him through, he was withdrawing from his fellows. The pain of his body, the pain in his soul, was pushing hard against his resolve, and to fight it, he had to hold back. He had to hold on, hold onto all the good that had come before, and the promise of getting back to it one day.

However, even in the silence, the plan to watch and wait was maintained, his eyes joining the others as they watched the rotations, learned the patterns and figured out how best to enact their plans. It was on his return from the fourth session that he could see (through a swollen, black eye, no less) that the rotation had finally played into their favor.

One of the Kree guards had, over the past few times, accompanied him to the lab and back, though he generally had two or three others with him. This guard in particular had taken a dislike to him, nearly matching that of Schmidt's. He delighted in digging in his grip when they hauled him between places, even kicking him when he was thrown back into the cell.

His brutality would be exactly what allowed them to escape, and Rogers would utilize to full advantage.

When he was escorted back down from the next session with the crazed HYDRA leader, he flopped unceremoniously to the floor, the locks of the door barely clicking into place when he began to tap swiftly. Their captors had yet to cotton onto their code, and he would take the risk to tell the others that the time had come. A few taps came back, Wilson granting his blessing to initiate the plan. Stark, however, did not tap.

"Can you?" Tony whispered instead, leaning against the bars of his door and raising an eyebrow. The evidence of the last beat-down, complete with a black eye and numerous cuts along his arms, was before him, and he did not know if Steve could operate through that. Right at that minute, anyway. The other man raised an eyebrow (the one over his good eye) in return.

"Easy," he huffed, a wry smile on his lips. Before the brunet man could say another word, Rogers curled up onto his side, groans and cries erupting from him. It was as if he could no longer bear his pain in silence, and he had to make it known. In his head, he counted the seconds as he moaned in agony, rolling over again and curling up as he heard booted footsteps echo in the hall. Peering through a tearing eye, he glimpsed the Kree guard who tormented him, a malicious glint in his gaze.

Counting on that, he continued to groan, assaulting the creature's hearing. A sneer was shot at him, and the creature glared harder when he kept crying out.

"Stop your screaming," he commanded, banging upon the bars. Repeating that several times, it was clear how high his ire had climbed as he wrenched out the sensor for the cell door lock. Clicking it, he stomped his boots in preparation, indicating exactly what he was going to do to make Steve shut up. Under his breath, he growled, "Stupid human, vile—"

Loud banging on the adjoining wall came before he could enter and plant his foot into Steve's gut. "Say that again, punk! I dare you."

The creature paused in the opened doorway, an evil look decorating its features as it craned its neck to look at Sam.

"I will slay you before—" he started, unaware of the prone figure on the floor snapping his head up. In a blur of blood and fury, Steve was on his feet, his minor pains ignored as he launched himself at the cruel creature. Blindsided, the creature had no time to react as the commander locked his arm around tightly around his neck, legs curled around the waist and full weight thrown backward to further disorient the Kree. The guard's hands scrabbled at the muscled appendage squeezing air from its throat, eyes bulging as the blond human grit his teeth maintained his hold. It wasn't long before the creature's eyes lolled back in its sockets, breathing out heavily before its limbs went limp. Thus satisfied, Steve slowly loosened his arm, pressing a couple fingers into where he would assume a pulse point would be. It was weak, faint, but the creature was still alive.

From across the way, Stark's eyes had widened slightly, the viciousness of the attack taking him aback slightly. Of course, he'd seen his friend in battle, knew he was a soldier and his commanding officer, but sometimes it was easy to forget that he had hardness underneath the layer of affability he could don. The guy was a warrior, and had been for his whole life, even when his appearance was small and unassuming.

"Jesus, Rogers," Tony mumbled, nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as the commander rifled through the creature's pockets, crowing in victory when he struck paydirt. The clicker with the sensors to activate their door locks came to hand, as well as a few strangely-shaped weapons.

"Just Steve," the blond retorted, smirking as Stark rolled his eyes. Palming the lock device, he shoved the Kree further into his cell before walking out and locking the guard in. Pointing the device at his companions' doors and freeing them, he spiked an eyebrow at Gamora. "ETA of the guards?"

The green-skinned beauty snatched up one of the weapons on hand, a harsh-looking knife that had a rim of red surrounding the edges. It reminded Rogers of Duquesne and his sword perhaps it was a form of laser-edged blade as well.

"Seven minutes and counting," she confirmed aloud, the small pistol given over to Nebula's care. Thor, Sam, and Mantis came forward, Stark stumbling out and brushing down his clothes. Assessing his troops and at least finding them no worse for the wear, Steve nodded to Gamora.

"Let's get moving, then," he stated, the pack of captured Avengers slipping out of the holding. Instead of heading for the elevators, they wisely utilized a set of stairs just down the hall, the posted sentries dealt with swiftly as they moved. Though one would not think that four well-built males and three battle-hardened females could move stealthily, they did just that, sticking to the shadows and avoiding recapture where they could, and only fighting if they had no other choice.

Several levels up, they pushed their way into a relatively abandoned hall. The chrome of the walls had dulled, instead matching something closer to tin in color. The floor itself was also a dull gray, the place awash in light only due to the windows embedded into the outer wall. And there was quite a sight to behold there. All the males froze in their travels, eyes riveted to the view. The clambering females halted when they realized they were not being followed, and they strode back to them.

"Oh, my God. We're here," Wilson muttered under his breath, a deep sigh pouring out of his nose mere moments later. He laid a palm against the clear plate of the window, seemingly covering a portion of the earth. The familiar landmass (Asia, by the looks of it) with the deep blue of the oceans rimming it had his heart twisting in his chest. So close, so close to home. Thor looked down at him, dipping his chin in agreement. Though Midgard was not his home by birth, it was one of his by choice.

Gamora, though she was eager to move on, could not help but look upon the planet. Peter had spoken of it before, of his home State of Missouri, but she had not quite imagine the hues of it all. Despite it being a place of pain, she could see how there could be fondness in his voice when he spoke of it.

Beside her, Nebula let her eyes widen. Her scowl remained in place, though, and she shrugged a shoulder. "This is Terra?"

"It is beautiful," Mantis breathed, her large eyes taking in the sight of the blue and emerald world. Unconsciously, her hand landed upon Tony's shoulder, and she could barely repress the shudder that went through her. Though most of his feelings were pleasant, there was an underlying harshness, the burdens of his life shaping his view of things. Meeting his gaze for a minute, she dipped her chin and dropped her hand. "Dark, but home."

The billionaire took in a shaky breath. "Yes."

Steve's blue gaze turned glassy for a moment, a sharp exhale flying out of him as another thrum of pain ricocheted through his body. Blinking—and finding that his injured eye was actually starting to cooperate again—he turned away, facing the companions who understood the workings of Thanos better than any other there.

The plan had changed, changed from a commandeering mission, and they needed to find another way.

"We need to get down there, immediately," he said, looking at them expectantly. Gamora's dark eyes met her sister's, and they both shook their heads.

"We've never been on this ship before. We were meant to be foot soldiers, not his captains," Nebula returned, flatness in her voice. Deflation threatened the others until she cocked her head to the left, squinting in thought. "But, this ship is similar to others in some respects. Such as, it is likely that escape pods are nearest to the main bridge for easy access."

Stark and Wilson shared a glance, Rogers sporting an unamused expression.

"So no matter what we do, we have to go opposite the lion's den?"

Nebula raised her chin. "Yes. It will be difficult, but not impossible."

Once more, the others looked to one another, seeking out the correct answer to that. It was the Asgardian who ultimately gave it, the eagerness to be away and back with the people under his protection evident.

"Difficult can be dealt with," Thor remarked, the words a pledge for him. Slowly, the others gave nods in agreement, and Steve cupped a hand in the air.

"Lead the way."

"Certainly," Gamora said, striding to the end of the hall. Glancing around, she caught the script along the wall, smirking broadly when she realized she could read it. Jerking her thumb to the left, she indicated, "But first...munitions and armor lock-up would likely be this way."

Stark's eyes lit up at that, and he rubbed his hands together almost gleefully.

"Oh, perfect," he breathed, he and the rest of their companions hot on her heels. They would take back their armor, their weapons, and their lives.

xXxXxXx

Thanos gripped the arms of his throne tightly, watching upon his viewfinder as the planet before him was circling around. Though he'd kept his ship in movement to resist the gravitational lock it could be put into, he still kept his gaze riveted to the looming speck of dirt before him. Nothing yet, from the humans.

And that was not all that he hadn't heard about. His teeth started to grind just as the airlock on the door to his chambers released. The Kree captain tumbled in, two of his sergeants following (at a distance, the Titan mused), out of breath and dropping to his knees in supplication.

"Sir, sir! The prisoners, they're—"

"Loose, captain?" the Titan interrupted, the deep irritation flickering in his blood-red irises. Tapping at the controls in the armrest, he turned the throne from his screens to the inner room. Looking down upon the quaking captain, he grunted, "Yes, I'm aware. In fact, I was aware when they first broke out, nearly a full hand rotation ago." Another button was thumbed, and one of the screens behind him lit up with one of the recordings made on the lower floor some time ago. Four males, dressed in their dirty clothes, followed behind three females, weapons in hand and determination in their faces. He did not have to look to know what was going on. Instead, he chose to witness the captain shrink back in fear. Clicking his tongue, he muttered, "I have access to the same security feeds as you. Yet somehow, you failed to note the breach until this moment. Why?"

The captain swallowed, the last sands of the hourglass sliding through his fingers. "I, I, I did not wish to..."

"No excuses," his leader commanded. Turning his throne around again, he propelled it to one of the side boards, tapping at the keys rapidly. Within moments, the screen was filled with the face of another Asgardian, one who would be far more likely to work along with his desires. Since arriving upon the ship, Loki too had been held in a form of cell, though he was given leave to walk around the vessel if he chose. As luck would have it, he happened to be in his room, ready for his command. Inclining his chin, Thanos declared, "My Lord Loki, our prisoners have escaped. I am entrusting their arrest to you."

The dark-haired male opened his mouth to speak, either a thinly-veiled insult or a benevolence—it could go either way with him—but Thanos would not allow him to do so. His honeyed words had brought him nothing but disappointment in the past. Instead, his actions would have to speak for him instead.

Fingers flew over the keyboard, another screen enabled and showing how the door to the laboratory was fully and completely unlocked. A small, sneering grin decorated the Titan's lips, and he squared his shoulders.

"The Red Skull shall be let go to track them as well. Go," he told Loki, snapping the camera off before he could say a single word. Slowly, he backed up his chair securing and locking it into place before rising. The two sergeants had backed up, practically flattening themselves against the wall and abandoning the Kree captain to his fate. The tinged skin was nearly gray upon the creature's face as he remained in place, staring at the ground even as Thanos curtly gestured for the sergeants to leave. Purple fingers flapped for him to stand, yet he could not. Though he had done his work faithfully to the Titan, serving him willingly, he knew that the volatile temper, the deep malice within, could bubble over at anytime. Thanos had lived for far longer than he, and his patience—and mercy—were stretched thin. Especially as he was so close to his goal. Anything, or anyone, that impeded him in any way, was liable to face terrible punishment for doing so.

He just did not know to what degree his punishment would go. And he knew he would get it, firstly for not reporting the breach and escape beforehand, and secondly for not capturing the escapees in a timely fashion. All his previous good work could mean nothing then, and he knew it. Horror and dread locked him into place, and still he did not look up when his commander circled behind him. Instead, he closed his eyes, and waited.

"Captain, you have failed me."

The last utterance he would hear from Thanos rang with finality, followed by the sharp crunch and click as his head was snapped to the side. The Titan brushed his hands down his sides, as if ridding himself of actual spilled blood. The Kree captain lay upon the floor, unmoving, and would remain there as he resumed his seat. The intercom from the bridge buzzed as he focused his screens upon the planet called Earth again, one of the soldier below muttering obeisances before delivering his message.

"Transmission received, sir, from the earthlings."

Beckoning the creature in his service to send it to him, one of the screen was filled with a somewhat muddled picture. In the frame stood a human male, dressed in dark blue and red, the white star in his chest nearly gleaming. Gloved hands were braced on his hips, his stance strong. But it was his eyes, the blue turning icy as the seconds passed that resonated with him. It was one of the warriors sent to fight against him at Asgard, one of the meddling Avengers who had managed to evade him. Thanos let his eyes widen slightly as the fellow began to speak.

"Thanos, you have waged a war for the Infinity Stones with countless peoples of the galaxy, and beyond. We will not stand idly by and let you do the same to us." His head cocked slightly to the right, and his lips were set in a thin line briefly. "You want a war? You got it."

And with that, the picture cut out, leaving Thanos in silence.

So, the humans would stand, as the Other had once proclaimed. As he should have expected.

However, he did not think challenging them would mean anything other than fighting for what was his.

"Very well, Terrans," he mumbled to himself. Clearing his throat, he turned to his intercom system, punching in for the next captain at his disposal. First he would contact his own soldiers, and then he would summon the outlying commanders to do his bidding. Carefully, and concisely, he gave his orders. "Prepare the troops to move out."

Suddenly, his ship lurched, and Thanos was rocked to the floor, dazed and wondering exactly what had just occurred.

A/N: Now we're getting to the action! The Earth chooses to stand against Thanos, and those captured upon his ship find a way to escape and fight back.

Also, I realize I'm fudging the science a little when it comes to Thanos' ship and the gravitational pull of the earth. Let's just pretend his ship's engines have not shut down, and he is powering around the world to assess his newest conquest. I'm not a scientist, okay? Please cut me some slack on that.

I believe it's time to level with all of you, now that we're fourteen chapters in. I have been asked by a few people, through PMs and such, where I intend to go after this story ends. The truth is...this is going to be the (foreseeable) final story in the Of Time series. Much like the MCU, I intend for the Infinity War to really be the last, defining plot for the main characters of the universe here. Honestly, I was surprised to write any story in this universe after At Day's End. Nearly three years later, here we are. So much has happened, but I do not think that, after this story, I can go on. I will try my best to tie up the loose ends as best as I can, and thank everybody properly when it comes to be the right time. Still, I believe this is the right move, ultimately. Going beyond this point, at this moment, feels too much like I'm trying to "jump the shark" (or maybe it already has, and I have been delusional up until this point), or force more out of it when it has the greatest potential to fail and fall. I want to leave this all on a good note.

Do I intend for this to be the last story that pairs Steve and Holly? No, it isn't. I still have Down the Hall to finish, and I also have another AU project for them in the works once this is done. And who knows? Perhaps I'll revisit them at a later date, write a one-shot or two. But once we get to the final chapter for this, I do intend for it to be the last of the main series.

However, we aren't done yet. We still the majority of the battle to go, and the aftermath.

Very little Holly and the children here, but we'll get back to them eventually.

I own nothing from the MCU, nor do I own any other pop culture references made in the text (Marvel comics, etc.).

Thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!