MARVEL: TOAA

With a flash, Ravion teleported himself, Reina, and John back to the shelter. The tense silence in the air mirrored the unease coursing through them.

"John, who was that person? Why are you so afraid of her?" Reina asked, her curiosity bubbling over.

John adjusted his cradle slightly, looking at Reina with a stern expression. "Reina, if you ever encounter someone in that suit—whether it's a man, a woman, or even a dog—run as fast as you can. That person is Deadpool."

He paused, gathering his thoughts. "Deadpool's powers include a superhuman healing factor and immense physical resilience. They're also skilled in combat and weaponry. At first glance, they might not seem stronger than other superheroes, but that's not the issue."

Reina frowned, confused. "Then what's the problem?"

John sighed. "Deadpool is a magnet for chaos. They have the foulest mouth imaginable and a penchant for getting into absurd levels of trouble. They don't just fight enemies—they provoke them. Imagine meeting someone stronger than you, someone dangerous. Most people would retreat or call for backup. Deadpool? They'd look that person straight in the eye and ask, 'Hey, does your mother know you're out here playing superhero?' Followed by some insults about their last night's escapades."

"John," Ravion interrupted, frowning, "Reina is just a child. Watch your language."

"Sorry, Ravion." John sighed. "I just wanted Reina to understand the scale of trouble Deadpool brings."

Reina crossed her arms. "John, you're still a child, too. And you're still breastfeeding, technically."

She smirked, but her concern was evident. John's words had left an impression.

The following day, Ravion resumed Reina's physical training near the shelter. As she ran laps, two jeeps and three trucks rumbled toward them, kicking up clouds of dust. Reina slowed, shielding her eyes from the debris.

From one of the vehicles emerged a weary Captain America, his shield slung over his back, his face lined with exhaustion. "We need help," he said simply.

Ravion, wary, scanned the group. He didn't need advanced sensors to see that these people were desperate. Without hesitation, he tapped into Steve's mind, extracting the recent memories that had led them here.

The images flooded in—a grisly tableau of chaos, starvation, and madness among refugees. Men and women devolving into primal creatures, driven by hunger and fear. The sight was overwhelming. John, connected through their shared network, recoiled, his small body trembling in his cradle.

"John!" Reina cried out, rushing to his side. Milk dribbled from his mouth as his breathing grew erratic.

Ravion quickly placed a hand on John's forehead, hypnotizing him into a dream state. "He needs rest," Ravion said softly, his tone laced with concern.

Ravion turned to Captain America, his blue eyes glowing red with suppressed anger. "Get out of my territory," he growled, his voice thunderous. The sky mirrored his fury, darkening as lightning crackled above. A powerful gust forced Steve back a few steps.

"Demons don't deserve mercy," Ravion declared, his scaled body bristling like an enraged lion. Reina stepped back, startled by Ravion's sudden transformation.

Steve held his ground, meeting Ravion's glare. "I understand your anger," he said. "But these people are scared, desperate. Fear can bring out the worst in anyone, but it doesn't define them. Everyone has good in them, and we can bring it out if we just try. You're strong—you have the power to make a difference."

Ravion hesitated, his rage flickering as he considered Steve's words. Before he could respond, a deafening roar shattered the moment. Alioth, the monstrous predator, was approaching fast.

Steve seized the opportunity. "Please," he pleaded. "Help us. I'll do everything in my power to protect your people."

Ravion sighed, his fury dissipating. "Reina, stay with Steve and protect John. Don't let anyone near you—no matter what," he instructed. Reina nodded solemnly, clutching John tightly.

Turning to Steve, Ravion warned, "If anything happens to them, there will be consequences."

With that, he launched into the sky, drawing Alioth's attention away from the group.

Steve led his group into the underground shelter. The once spacious space became claustrophobic with the influx of refugees. Reina stayed close to Captain America, holding John protectively.

She couldn't help but notice how different these people were from the ones she'd encountered before. Their eyes were hollow, their movements mechanical. Even the children were unnervingly quiet, their innocence stripped away by the harshness of survival.

Her heart sank when she saw some of the refugees raiding the shelter's food supply. Among them was a child who led the adults to the sealed provisions. What followed was chaos—adults scrambling, shoving, and devouring the food like wild animals.

Reina turned to Captain America, her voice trembling. "They're taking the milk powder. John needs it to survive."

Steve's expression hardened. He stepped into the fray, retrieving a can of formula from the looters. Returning it to Reina, he said softly, "I'm sorry."

Reina clutched the can tightly, her eyes welling with tears. There had been five cans of milk powder before the raid. Now, this single can was all that remained.

Hawkeye, observing the scene, approached Steve. "We need to talk," he said grimly.

Steve glanced at Hawkeye, then at Natasha, who sat silently in a corner, her face pale. He knew what Hawkeye was going to say—that they couldn't keep tolerating this behavior. But Steve wasn't ready to give up on these people. Not yet.

Above ground, Ravion faced off against Alioth, his attacks a dazzling display of controlled chaos. Tornadoes swirled, lightning struck, and energy beams carved into the monstrous creature's hide. Each strike bought precious time for the group below, but Ravion knew the fight was far from over.

Back in the shelter, Reina rocked John gently, her eyes darting nervously to the unruly crowd. She felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her. For the first time, she realized just how fragile their sanctuary truly was.

And for the first time, she felt fear—not for herself, but for the helpless child in her arms.