All I can hear is a rhythmic thud reverberating through my skull, like a trapped bird struggling to take flight. A thin band of white blurs the edges of my vision. I stumble to my room, leaning against the door for balance as I unlock it and fall inside. An alarm blares through the compound, the intensity dampened by my own response to panic.

"I can't do this," I whisper to myself. "I can't do this."

I'm not strong enough for this, not ready. It's been too many years since the horrors of my training and I am sloppy. My only advantage is my fire, and even if I wanted to utilise it, it would be pointless until dawn. Even on a full moon, I'd be lucky to get more than sparks at my fingertips. And come dawn, a roaring gush of flame might not even be the best option. Who knows how entangled with our enemies we'll be by then, how many of our side would burn along with Thanos's army? And unless Fury has a giant super soaker on hand, I risk burning down the entire property - if left unimpeded, even the entire town. I can only assume it would be embarrassing for the Avengers themselves to call a firetruck for help.

A knock at the door. "Apolla, are you in there?"

I gape like a fish gasping for air, but find myself unable to speak. A wicked thought crosses my mind — what if I just don't show up? How long would they wait for me before going ahead anyway? I'm hardly a crucial member of the team, not compared to players like Thor or Hulk. I could use the carnage as an excuse to disappear. Skip town, move to somewhere new, and start over. I can't imagine anyone would bother to find me. You've done it before, a niggling voice reminds me.

But something squirms uncomfortably inside of me, deep in my abdomen, as I try to seriously consider it as an option. I get the impression this horrible, tugging feeling would only grow the further I get to executing such a cowardly plan, and would become unbearably excruciating with every step away from the compound. I can't let these people down. Not when we're fighting for the entire universe.

"Apolla?" comes another knock, and I recognise the voice as Vision. "I'm going to come in, okay?"

I've made my decision, and in the few seconds before Vision opens the door, I've managed to shrug halfway out of my yoga pants and halfway into my suit.

"Oh, dear," he mumbles, averting his eyes. If he weren't already red, his cheeks would likely blush. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I'll be down in a second," I say.

Vision nods, still staring pointedly at a spot on the doorframe beside him. "Yes. Yes. Well, then."

With an awkward half-shrug, half-wave, he leaves. I release an exhale of breath. But, with no time to think further, I tug on the suit and tie my hair up high. I try to ignore the fact I might die tonight as I take one last sweeping look around the room, and head out.

Everything shifts and sharpens into focus as I enter the boardroom, the same one from my first day here. I become acutely aware of details — the grain of the table, the barely-there smudges on the glass windows, the blaring fog-horn like sound of the alarm. Fury taps something into a screen as I enter the room, then does one final headcount.

"We're just waiting on Wilson and Barnes," he says.

"They're still in Vermont," Steve says, "but they got the message. They'll leave as soon as it's safe."

I can't help but stare a little. It's the first time I've seen Steve in uniform since our first meeting, his shield almost glowing, slung across his back. He leans forward, resting his hands on the table, his breathing even; measured. Natasha clears her throat beside me, and I snap back into focus.

The last of Tony's suit snaps into place. "What's the plan, Capsicle?" he asks.

"The troops are advancing from the north side, we're estimating around four hundred of them."

Thor scoffs. "Is that all?"

Steve regards each of us seriously. "Do not get overconfident. We don't know what these guys might have in store for us. I vote we go ahead with Plan 32, with a variation of 18."

"Clever," Tony remarks. "They shouldn't see that coming."

"Excuse me," Loki rolls his eyes. "What does that mean, in plain English? Some of us haven't committed the entire inventory of battle plans to memory."

"We head west, then cut them off a few miles north," Steve explains. "I expect they'll be following orders to target the compound as much as they target us. This takes the fight to a neutral location."

"Then, once we're there," Tony continues, "we'll divide them into…" He does a quick head count. "Nine groups. And take them down."

We're all silent for a moment, before Peter speaks up.

"Hey, but there's ten of us!"

"No, kid." Tony shakes his head. "You're staying here."

"No way!"

"We need somebody to keep an eye on things back here," Steve says, in a tone far more kindly than Tony's. "There's every chance another group could be coming for the building."

"No there isn't, you said so yourself!"

"Right, everybody ready?" Tony says, rubbing his hands together.

"You might want to grab some knives," Natasha tells me, preparing to go out. "Unless you're planning to take them down with your bare hands."

"Definitely not." I try to laugh, but the sound catches in my throat.

Thor claps a hand on my shoulder as he brushes past. "Hey. You'll be okay. Battles are quite fun, especially for a cake-walk like this."

It's only at his words that I realise something, with an inkling of horror. I let the others leave, trickling out in a steady stream, but catch Steve before he goes. I place a hand on his arm, and he turns, eyebrows raised.

"Something's not right. Why is he sending such a small number?"

Steve hesitates for a moment, as though considering whether to trust me.

"It's got to be a distraction, right?" I continue. "Something just to keep us busy."

"Look, truth be told, I'm uneasy even leaving Peter here," he says quietly. "I'm hoping that between all of us, we can deal to them quick enough to get back here and prepare for whatever's coming next."

"And if another group does attack while we're diverted?" I ask. "What then?"

"We'll have to split up. But I'm hoping it won't come to that." Steve retrieves his shield, secures it to his forearm. "It's just as likely Thanos is testing the waters. Assessing how much of a threat we are."

I take a deep breath. "Then, let's go show him."

Steve throws me an appreciative look. "By the way, nice suit,' he says, then marches from the room before I can respond.

I grab a weapon belt and handful of knives on my way past the armoury, fastening them around my waist as I hurry to catch up to the others. Fury hangs back by the north gate, handing out earpieces. I take one and put it in.

"We'll have eyes and ears in the sky," he tells me seriously. "And try not to talk over people. It gets confusing."

We march at such a pace I'm left slightly flushed, my breathing just a little quicker than usual. I remind myself to take Natasha's cardio sessions more seriously. There's a thick tension in the air, and nobody speaks, not even Tony. Even Thor's grinning, good-natured demeanour is subdued as we wind through the trees. The smell of pine tingles at our nostrils, reminding me of Christmas and a hearth and a small, wooden house from my childhood.

"There's a clearing, just a few minutes north of where you are," Fury's voice comes through my ear. "You'll be able to intercept them there."

"On it," came Stark's voice, and he shot into the air.

We reached the clearing, at least a mile across in all directions, the grass of the forest burned or eroded away, leaving only dirt and dust and a strange collection of large boulders at the centre, buried deeply into the ground so only their top faces showed. I suppressed a shiver in the cool air, the icy wind nipping and biting at my fingers and nose.

"Vision, Tony, Wanda, Thor, you fly and take the rear sections," Steve says.

"Bit late for that, cap," Tony's voice says in our ears. "They're here."