This chapter serves merely as a transition—reading it feels as if nothing has changed at all.

After discovering each other's identities, the battle caused by the lack of light came to a temporary halt. After a brief exchange, Joss understood that the other party had been flying home and, upon seeing a silhouette in what should have been an empty house, launched an attack.

It had been over a month since they last met. Lilith was no longer clad in her tattered nun's habit; instead, she wore a slightly loose off-shoulder top, a plaid skirt, and striped knee-high socks. Though not from any renowned brand, her outfit was eye-catching, and even the scar on her face looked endearingly like a purposefully applied tattoo sticker.

However, as the Avengers were currently battling the remnants of Hydra, Lilith’s identity as a former Hydra member suddenly became rather delicate. Despite some unsettling suspicions stirring within him, Joss ultimately restrained the urge to ask.

“Oh? You look so curious, yet you’re not going to ask anything? Aren’t you worried I went out to help those Hydra people?” Unexpectedly, Lilith openly addressed the unspoken question, leaving Joss momentarily stunned.

He shrugged under her gaze. “I’m just lazy. If I ask, I’ll have to listen to a bunch of stuff I don’t care about. It’s annoying.”

Lilith was taken aback for a moment but then laughed softly. “I had a feeling from the start… but you really are a strange one.”

She understood that suspicion was only natural given her identity and actions, and she had considered all the reasons Joss might trust or distrust her. But simply not asking out of sheer laziness—that was not something she had anticipated.

“Once this is over… I’ll tell you everything,” she said, raising her hand to stop him as he began to speak. “I know you probably aren’t really interested, but I just selfishly want someone to confide in. Isn’t that allowed?”

“Do as you like,” Joss replied, unable to suppress a helpless smile.

Seeing his resigned expression, a hint of a smile finally broke across Lilith’s porcelain-doll face, as if she were an ordinary girl delighted by her own mischief.

“This is for you. Mr. Stark sent it over earlier, but their courier was killed on the way.” After a few more words, Lilith removed the long cloak she’d draped over herself, revealing a finely crafted mechanical box strapped to her back. Clearly, she had just gone to fetch it.

“From Mr. Stark…? It must be the thing I asked him to make,” Joss’s eyes brightened immediately.

…

“Hey, Captain, how many of them are there? At this rate, it feels endless!” Natasha had just emptied her last magazine and now stood beside Steve, armed only with a knife and on high alert.

As the lowest-ranking combatant among the Avengers, Natasha’s effectiveness here was limited. With her ammunition spent and her stamina nearly depleted, she was only marginally stronger than an ordinary person. Her true talents lay in espionage, infiltration, and seduction, not direct combat—her fighting strength was less than sixty percent of Hawkeye’s. It was remarkable she hadn’t collapsed already.

Hawkeye, the standard unit of combat measurement, was in the same predicament. His arrows were gone, so he resorted to fighting with his bow as a melee weapon. Real-life battles weren’t like shooting games with infinite supplies. Even though he could carry more than Natasha, a hundred arrows was his maximum without sacrificing mobility. Considering a single arrow’s diameter was around six millimeters, a hundred would fill a half-meter barrel. If not for Stark Industries’ support, allowing him to carry a container twice the normal size, he’d have run out long ago and just been smacking people over the head with his bow.

Normally, archers would retrieve their spent arrows, but on this battlefield, even a master like him couldn’t recover many. Running out over time was inevitable.

“This isn’t working… How’s Tony holding up?” Steve asked.

Natasha quickly tried to contact Stark, but her expression grew even darker. “Not good. Tony says he’s starting to struggle, his energy system can’t keep up with the new upgrades. His suit’s functions are almost depleted.”

“Oh my God, new upgrades? His energy source is nuclear! What on earth has he created that consumes so much power?”

“Who knows… He says he can only hold out another five minutes,” Natasha replied grimly, ending the call. Everyone’s faces grew somber.

Steve could still keep fighting, but to avoid losing members, he had to divert his attention to protect Natasha and Hawkeye. With Stark’s situation worsening, the Avengers were all in crisis.

No matter how unwilling, the Avengers were now exhausted and nearly out of ammunition. The shortage of manpower was not something effort alone could solve.

Steve understood this, but had no better solution. The Avengers’ strength was always stretched thin in large-scale battles—a fact they had accepted long ago, but never really believed would come to pass, so they hadn’t taken it seriously. Now, regret was pointless; all they could do was focus on the fight before them and deal with the troubles afterward.

“Fall back toward Stark’s position. Everyone, protect yourselves as best you can,” Steve decided after a brief pause.

As the ancients said, a bold charge brings momentary glory, but retreating saves lives. Today’s battlefield was no longer something the team could handle alone. As their leader, Steve would not—and could not—allow them to linger in the fight.

Hydra’s remnants numbered in the thousands, with beastly mutants and inferior super-soldiers among them. In contrast, only Stark could effectively kill enemies. If they didn’t retreat now, there would truly be no chance.

“Hm?! Wait, Joss just contacted me. He says he’s back?” Steve paused, surprised, as they began their withdrawal.