Marvel's whitewashing cop, you want me to save the world?

Chapter 155 What Plan Did You Say?

Loki watched the cabin disappear into the clouds below before slowly exhaling.

He turned around, ready to leave this place where no one could stop him anymore.

Then Coulson's voice came from behind him.

"You will lose."

Loki stopped in his tracks.

He slowly turned around, looked down at the man leaning against the wall with a sword stuck in his chest, and frowned slightly.

"I'll lose?" His voice carried undisguised confusion, and a hint of coldness that only comes after being offended.

"Your so-called fighting force has already fallen apart and is too late to stop me."

Your so-called flying fortress is about to crash, and I have no reason to lose.

Coulson's face was completely bloodless, but his eyes were still shining, as if all the remaining life force in his body had been gathered into his pupils.

He looked at Loki, his lips even twitching slightly upwards, revealing a faint yet unforgettable smile.

"You have no faith."

As soon as he finished speaking, he mustered his last bit of strength and pulled the trigger of the specially made gun in his hand.

A bright yellow beam of energy shot out from the muzzle of the gun.

The beam of light was not large in diameter, but extremely bright, leaving a straight trail in the air as if it could burn through space itself.

It struck Loki squarely in the chest, lifting him off the ground and sending him crashing through several metal panels. He flew out through a hole in the mothership's side wing and plummeted towards the clouds below.

Coulson fired.

His arm fell to the floor with a soft thud.

In the command center, the battle had finally come to an end.

Steve Rogers, and Natasha and Barton.

The group worked together to eliminate most of the Hydra members who had infiltrated the mothership.

The corridor was littered with intruders lying on their backs, some stunned by the palm cannons and others knocked over by shields. The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunfire and burnt electrical circuits.

Steve retrieved his shield and turned to look at Nick Fury, who was standing behind the command platform. He was clearly displeased with the black-clad man.

I originally thought that the ship was full of real S.H.I.E.L.D. members, and even those who weren't kept in the dark should make up the vast majority.

After the battle, a headcount revealed that at least a third of the people had secretly sided with Hydra.

No one knows for sure how many lurking snakes are in the remaining two-thirds.

How Loki got involved with Hydra is no longer important.

The important thing is that the ship was not clean from the beginning.

Nick Fury did not meet Steve's gaze.

He lowered his head and placed the several well-sealed cards in his hand onto the worktable one by one.

The images on all the cards are of the same person.

Captain America, in his red, white, and blue uniform, with a vibranium shield, blond hair, and blue eyes.

Some of these cards had frayed edges, and the plastic wrap had several fine scratches from repeated rubbing, indicating that they had been handled many times.

"Coulson should have told you," Nick Fury said in a low voice, speaking much slower than usual.

"He has admired you since he was a child. He has collected these cards for decades. He even mentioned to me once that he wanted to find an opportunity to have you sign them."

His finger hovered over the edge of a card for a moment before he withdrew it.

"There's no chance now."

Steve froze on the spot.

As a soldier, he instantly understood the hidden meaning in those words.

His gaze fell on the cards placed on the table, his lips moved slightly, but he couldn't say anything.

Nick Fury braced his hands on the edge of the console, his shoulders slumping slightly, his tone even slower than before: "We've lost communication, lost our comrades, Bruce Banner and Thor are both missing, I'm at my wit's end."

He paused for a moment, raised his one eye to look at Steve, and his tone suddenly turned somber.

"That's right, I did try to use the Cosmic Cube to create weapons to defend against alien invasions."

But I didn't put all my eggs in one basket with the Cosmic Cube; I had an even bolder plan, which was "".

What are you doing here?

A voice came from the direction of the command room entrance, abruptly cutting Nick Fury off mid-sentence.

Tony Stark, wearing the Mark armor, hovered about half a meter above the ground as his thrusters spewed out two extremely short bursts of white flame from his feet.

He carried a man on his right arm, Coulson's body lying across his shoulder armor, the short sword still stuck in his chest, blood soaking through his entire front.

Tony flew to the control panel and placed Coulson directly on the table. The movement wasn't exactly gentle, but the landing was very steady.

Steve frowned, his voice filled with obvious confusion and a hint of offended seriousness: "What are you doing? Coulson is dead, can't you just let him rest in peace?"

"Coulson is still breathing; he's not dead."

Tony's tone was casual, as if he were correcting a subordinate who didn't have a good grasp of the facts.

His Mark armor quickly dissipated, and the nanometal retreated from his body back into his bracelet.

He pulled a bottle of dragon's blood pills from his pocket, unscrewed the cap, poured out two pills, and slapped them directly into Steve's palm.

"Crush it into powder with your hands and sprinkle it on his wound, quickly."

Steve paused for a second, then immediately realized what was happening.

He clasped his hands together, holding the two pills in his palms, and used the power of a super soldier to quickly grind them into an extremely fine powder.

Then, he carefully pulled out the dagger and evenly sprinkled the powder onto the still-bleeding wound on Coulson's back.

The moment the powder came into contact with the wound, the rolled-up muscle tissue began to contract at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the hemostatic effect was almost immediate.

Tony then picked up a silver metal box from the side, opened the clasp, and took out a Dragon's Blood Potion No. 1 injection.

He walked to Coulson's side, flicked off the needle cap, aimed at a vein on the side of his neck, and inserted the needle. He then pushed the plunger with his thumb, injecting all the liquid medication into the tube.

Ten seconds later.

Coulson suddenly opened his eyes.

He blinked several times, his pupils unfocused for a moment before returning to the ceiling, and he managed to squeeze out a few hoarse, confused syllables: "What's going on—I'm not dead yet?"

Tony stood next to him, glanced down at him, and said, "With our current level of medical care, as long as you're not beaten to a pulp on the spot, or left with only a head, you'll be fine."

Even if you have your limbs severed and your heart pierced, we can still bring you back to life.

Coulson was silent for two seconds, then the corners of his mouth slowly turned up.

Umbrella's Dragon's Blood potion itself has extremely strong healing effects.

He knew this better than anyone else, but he never expected that one day he would personally verify its upper limit.

"It feels so good to be alive."

He spoke softly, his tone devoid of any excitement at surviving a disaster; it was more like the sigh of someone who had traveled a long way and finally sat down.

Tony, confirming that Coulson's vital signs had stabilized, turned to Nick Fury and resumed his earlier statement: "Go on, what did you say? There's an even bolder plan, what is it?"

Nick Fury remained silent for a moment.

He glanced at Coulson, who was lying on the control panel, his chest rising and falling evenly with his breathing.

He glanced again at Steve, who was standing to the side with medicine powder residue still on his hands.

Finally, I turned my gaze back to the row of Captain America cards neatly arranged in front of me.

He lowered his braised egg head slightly, remained silent for a long time, and then spoke again.

His voice had regained its usual calm and steady quality.

"In about an hour and a half, we will arrive above Stark Tower. Everyone, take a rest. The final battle will begin soon."

After he finished speaking, he walked to a metal folding chair next to him and sat down, crossing his hands on his knees.

He lowered his head slightly and stopped speaking.