"Sir, I'm detecting anomalous energy signatures that don't match Chitauri patterns."
Tony Stark's eyes narrowed inside his helmet as JARVIS highlighted three distinct heat signatures on his HUD—all moving with superhuman capabilities, all seemingly fighting against the invaders.
"Show me," he commanded, banking sharply to avoid energy fire.
His display zoomed in on a teenager with explosive capabilities launching himself between buildings with controlled detonations from his palms. Not far away, another youth created massive ice structures while occasionally unleashing controlled fire. A third glowed with green lightning as he leaped with enhanced strength to rescue civilians.
"Teenagers," Tony muttered, incredulous. "Fighting aliens. Because why not?"
"The subjects appear to be approximately 15-16 years of age," JARVIS confirmed.
"Their energy outputs are remarkable. The one generating ice has decreased ambient temperature by 15 degrees in a 30-meter radius."
Tony blasted two Chitauri off their vehicles before responding. "Any relation to Thor's people? Or our capsicle?"
"Negative. These energy signatures are unlike anything in our database. They appear to be self-contained within the individuals, not derived from external technology."
"Great. Mystery superpowered teenagers in the middle of an alien invasion." Tony sighed. "Keep tracking them. Let's make sure they don't get themselves killed playing hero."
"Should I alert the others to their presence?"
Tony considered this as he fired repulsors at an approaching wave of Chitauri. "Yeah, patch it through the comms. But we focus on the portal first. Kids or not, if they're fighting on our side, they're not the priority right now."
"Understood, sir."
*******
"We've got civilian stragglers on 6th," Natasha Romanoff's voice came through the comm link. "And Stark's reporting superpowered teenagers in the combat zone."
Steve Rogers briefly looked up from the alien he was fighting. "Say again?"
"Three teenagers with abilities. Fighting the Chitauri, helping evacuate civilians."
"They're just kids," Steve grunted in disbelief, hurling his shield in a precise arc that took down three attackers before returning to his hand. "They shouldn't be here."
"Tell that to them," Clint Barton cut in, his position from the rooftop giving him a wider view. "I can see the blonde one from here. Kid's using controlled explosions like fireworks from his hands. Taken down at least a dozen Chitauri that I've counted."
"We need to get them to safety," Steve insisted.
"They look like they're handling themselves fine," Natasha countered pragmatically. "Better than some of our SHIELD agents."
"They're still civilians. Children."
"Actually, Cap," Tony's voice joined the conversation, "from what I'm seeing, they might be trained. They're working as a unit, coordinating attacks, prioritizing civilian safety. Wherever they came from, these aren't ordinary kids playing superhero."
Steve frowned, dispatching another alien with a powerful strike. "We still have responsibility for their safety. Barton, keep an eye on them. First opportunity, we make contact, get them behind our lines."
"Copy that," Clint acknowledged. "Though from what I'm seeing, they might end up rescuing us."
******
Bakugo blasted another alien craft from the sky, his palms burning from overuse but his expression still locked in fierce determination. Thirty minutes of continuous combat was pushing even his stamina to its limits, but he'd die before admitting it.
"Watch your left, Kacchan!" Midoriya called from below, launching himself upward to intercept an alien that had flanked Bakugo's position.
"I saw him, Deku!" Bakugo snarled, though privately he appreciated the warning. Not that he'd ever say so.
Todoroki continued his methodical approach, alternating between ice structures for civilian protection and precisely targeted fire jets to disable alien tech. The coordination between the three of them had developed naturally, born from months of training together despite their different styles.
"We need to move toward that tower," Midoriya called out, landing beside Todoroki after dispatching another group of invaders. "The portal's directly above it—that's the center of the invasion."
Bakugo dropped down to join them, wiping sweat from his brow. "Finally," he grinned ferally. "Take the fight to them instead of cleanup duty."
"It's not about glory," Todoroki reminded him coolly. "It's strategic. The closer we get to the source, the more effective our containment will be."
"Stop repeating what your pops said, Half-and-Half," Bakugo snapped. "I'm not deaf."
"I didn't say you were."
"Oh yeah? That condescending tone says otherwise—"
"Guys!" Midoriya interrupted, stepping between them with practiced familiarity. "Not the time."
Both fell silent, though Bakugo continued to glare at Todoroki, who maintained his impassive expression.
"The local heroes seem to be converging there too," Midoriya continued, pointing toward where the red and gold armored figure was engaged in aerial combat. "If we coordinate with them, we could be more effective."
Bakugo scoffed. "We don't need their—"
He never finished the sentence. A massive gray-green figure crashed down beside them, the impact cracking the pavement. The Hulk straightened to his full height, towering over the three students, who immediately dropped into defensive stances.
"Big... green... guy," Midoriya breathed, eyes wide as he automatically began analyzing this new entity. Strong enough to create impact craters from landing, muscular density suggesting strength possibly exceeding All Might's, seemingly in control of his faculties despite rage-influenced expression...
Hulk assessed the three teenagers with narrowed eyes, snorted once, and then leaped away toward a cluster of Chitauri without engaging them further.
"Was that... approval?" Todoroki asked quietly.
"Who cares?" Bakugo was already repositioning for takeoff. "Let's move!"
As they advanced towards Stark Tower, the battle intensified. Chitauri forces grew denser, their attacks more coordinated, as if protecting something important. The three U.A. students found themselves fighting back-to-back, their quirks complementing each other in increasingly fluid combinations.
Midoriya would identify a tactical weakness, Todoroki would create the opening, and Bakugo would deliver the explosive finish. When Bakugo overextended, Todoroki's ice shields covered his retreat. When Todoroki's right side began to frost over from overuse, Midoriya would draw enemy fire to give him recovery time.
It was during one such maneuver that they encountered him—a man dressed in a red, white, and blue uniform, wielding a circular shield with impossible precision.
Captain America.
The shield ricocheted off three aliens before returning to its owner's hand just as he delivered a powerful kick that sent another invader flying. The efficiency of his movements spoke of extensive combat training, while the power behind each strike hinted at enhanced strength.
Midoriya couldn't help but stare, his analytical mind already comparing this fighter's technique to various pro heroes from their world. The shield work was unlike anything he'd seen—not just defensive but a primary offensive weapon, utilizing angles and momentum in complex calculations that the man executed instinctively.
"Pay attention, you nerd!" Bakugo shouted, blasting an alien that had targeted Midoriya during his observation.
"S-sorry!" Midoriya snapped back to attention, embarrassed at being caught fanboying in the middle of combat.
The shield-wielding hero noticed them then, his expression showing momentary surprise at their youth before shifting to concern and determination. He dispatched the remaining aliens in his vicinity with efficient strikes before approaching them.
"You three need to get to the evacuation points," he called out, his voice carrying authority without condescension. "It's not safe here."
Bakugo bristled immediately. "We've been handling ourselves fine without your help!"
"We're trained for this," Todoroki added more diplomatically, though his dual-colored eyes remained cautious.
The man assessed them quickly—taking in their costumes, their stance, the evidence of their abilities scattered around the battlefield: ice structures, scorched pavement, impact craters from Midoriya's leaps.
"You're enhanced," he stated rather than asked.
"We're heroes," Midoriya responded without thinking, then quickly corrected himself. "I mean, heroes-in-training. From Japan. U.A. High School."
The man's expression showed no recognition at the school name, but he nodded respectfully. "Captain Steve Rogers. You've been doing good work out here, but we're trying to contain this situation. The safest place for you is behind our lines."
"With all due respect, Captain," Todoroki said calmly, frost forming around his right hand in preparation for the next wave of attackers, "we're already committed to this fight."
"And we don't run from battles," Bakugo added with characteristic intensity.
Rogers studied them for another moment, clearly conflicted between his desire to protect young civilians and his recognition of capable allies in a dire situation. Before he could respond, his hand went to his ear—seemingly responding to a communication device.
"Stark, I've made contact with the enhanced teenagers." A pause as he listened. "Yes, they're insisting on continuing to fight." Another pause. "That's what I said." Final pause. "Copy that."
He looked back at the three students. "Our team is establishing a perimeter around the tower. If you're determined to help, focus on civilian evacuation within that zone. But when this is over, we're going to have a serious conversation."
"Deal," Midoriya nodded quickly, before Bakugo could say something provocative.
Rogers gave them one final assessing look before sprinting back into the fray, shield raised.
"Who does he think he is?" Bakugo muttered, though with less heat than Midoriya expected. There was a hint of grudging respect in his tone that he'd never admit to.
"Their leader, apparently," Todoroki observed. "And he didn't try to stop us."
Midoriya was already processing the interaction. "He referred to 'our team'—so there's an organized hero response. He called us 'enhanced,' not quirk users, which might mean significant terminology differences. And his fighting style suggests—"
"Nerd out later," Bakugo interrupted, already repositioning. "Fight now."