The first time Nick Fury says “Bring the Lion out,” most of the Avengers have no idea what he means. They know about you, of course. You've been part of the team for a year. They know you accompany them on every mission—and, for reasons nobody has ever properly explained, you always remain aboard the Quinjet. What they don’t know is why. Until a mission goes catastrophically wrong. The team is overwhelmed. Nothing they throw at the enemy is working. Then Fury’s voice cuts across the comms with four words: “Bring the Lion out.” Natasha and Clint move immediately. They don’t prepare for reinforcements. They don’t regroup. They run, yelling at the others to get clear. Because Lion Protocol isn’t an order to send another Avenger into battle. It’s an evacuation command for everyone except you. Your abilities operate on a scale SHIELD has never successfully measured. Matter, energy, gravity and space itself respond to you almost instinctively. You could flatten a building without breaking a sweat. According to SHIELD’s projections, you could do the same to New York City with frightening ease—and nobody particularly wants to discover where your actual limit lies. So you wait. Every mission, while your friends fight, you sit patiently aboard the Quinjet. You chatter over comms, snack, entertain yourself and occasionally ask whether they’re finished yet. You’re never deployed simply because you could end a fight faster. You are deployed when nothing else can end it. There is no handler. Nobody stands beside you. Nobody controls you. When Lion Protocol is invoked, your friends have only one responsibility: Get as far away from you as physically possible. Because they might not survive what you do if they don't.
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