Prologue:

"3 Billion credits….3 Spirits-cursed billion. Spirits, what the hell are these…people, that they can cause three billion credits to the Citadel and then pass it off as a grand victory!"

"They call themselves the Avengers, sir."

"I don't give a damn what they are called! I was still in the building when the giant green monstrosity used it as a club to rearrange the face of that oversized mechanical- what's it called?"

"It's called a Sentinel, sir."

"Then that flying robot man—

"Iron Man, s-"

"Shut up."

"Yes sir."

"That flying robotic jackass blew up the Presidium, trying to kill the same giant Sentinel, and then the bloody thing gets up again anyway!"

"Let's not forget the hammer wielding holigan that punched a hole through the Citadel. All of it."

"….You know what I don't care anymore. Just get them off this station."

"Yes sir."

What a day.

Councilor Sparatus collapsed on his chair, exhausted. Sitting amid the ruins of his office, within the wreckage of the once proud Citadel Tower, Sparatus pondered in silence. Not much of a tower now, considering its been turned horizontal by a giant green monster. It was miracle that no one was killed.

He sighs as another piece of the ceiling drops falls to the floor. He really should move, the terrain was getting rather unstable, but the thought of getting crushed to death was rather appealing considering that he still had to see to the deportation of these "Avengers".

He should see if Tevos and Valern were okay, he still needed the full Council if he wanted get to this "First Contact" event over with, get those maniacs deported, and started on Citadel repairs.

Unfortunately his plans would never come to fruition.

Before Sparatus could even finish his train of thought, the same aide he sent out to remove the Avengers, came back panting and huffing, eyes wide with terror.

"Sir….we have a problem."

Sparatus tensed up, "What is it?"

"It's best if you see yourself sir."

With that statement, the aide opened his omnitool and began playing a message.

"ATTENTION MORTALS, I AM GALACTUS, DEVOUR OF WORLDS. I HAVE COME TO FEED, I WILL HAVE MY SUSTENANCE! RUN IF YOU CAN, BUT ALL WHO TRY TO STOP ME WILL FAIL!"

Sparatus held his blank expression for a full minute before turning to his aide again.

"The Citadel isn't a planet….It knows that right?"

"It's talking about Palaven sir."

"Spirits fu-"

And thus a day unlike any other was upon them.

...

A few months after Palaven was nearly eaten, invaded by green people, and then set on fire by a purple-skinned jackass with a shiny gauntlet, the first peace talks between the representatives of Earth and Citadel Council were to be held.

On this momentous occasion, the Citadel Council did their best to put their best foot forward, and each Councilor was prepared to display to full capability of the Citadel races. They fully expected to impress the humans with their overall technological superiority.

Unfortunately, though means of blackmail and political maneuvering, among the Earth's representatives stood one Dr. Doom, ruler of Latveria and rival to the now sadly deceased Dr. Reed Richards. Despite this fact, Doom's century old grudge has not faded in least, likely due to the fact that he expects Richards to be back from the dead by the end of the month.

As the numerous races gathered together to watch and possibly welcome the (supposed) newcomers to the galactic scene, the shuttles bringing the representatives of Earth opened to reveal nothing in them.

Five seconds later, a flash, and an infinite number of atoms shot across the universe at light speed later, the Earth representatives materialized in front of them. Before them stood some of the horribly dressed individuals they had ever seen.

Each of them was wearing something astoundingly absurd, but they couldn't tell which of them was the worst dressed. Considering that one wore full metal armor under a robe and hood, while another was bald, clad in all leather up to his eye patch, but both were beat out by a young man wearing robes that belonged in that Galaxy of Fantasy game. It was with great disbelief that the people there that day stated the most normally dressed was a young woman wearing what seemed to be a military uniform with a ridiculous number of stars and stripes on it, while holding a circular shield under her arm.

A moment of silence passed before the representatives strode up and entered the newly redesigned Citadel Ground Tower, left in its horizontal state by baffled keepers and confused architects.

When they entered the main doors into the council audience chamber, silence reigned supreme, broken only at certain moments in time by the imposing footsteps of humanity.

The Councilors of the Citadel stood up to address their guests, as the humans stood below them, on the platform.

"I am Counci-"

"Your technology is pathetic."

Tevos sputtered in indignation and surprise, turning to gaze upon the face of the metal man who made that statement.

"What!"

"Doom is embarrassed for you about your technological state; Doom is disgusted that you are only capable of advanced flight through space. Then again, I didn't expect much from fools couldn't even accomplish the basics of teleportation. "

Tevos didn't know how to respond to this accusation, and neither did her colleagues. This was certainly not how she expected the talks to start. Then, the scowling hairless man wearing an odd amount of leather took it upon himself to rectify the situation.

"Doom, shut up and go stand behind the group. I have no goddamn clue how you got on this committee anyway," Fury said, with a growing scowl.

"Bah, Doom doesn't need to talk to creatures of inferior intellectual caliber, that duty falls fittingly to you, Fury. Doom is simply here to survey the failings of our new "acquaintances"."

Fury's scowl deepened as he glared at Doom, and Doom glared back, presumably, from under his mask.

The three Councilors looked on uneasily at the humans before them, hoping to avoid another incident at the Citadel.

Thankfully the young woman among the humans seemed to have the most sense, as she took a step between her clashing companions.

"Ahem," The Council's attention was quickly refocused to the human in the uniform. "Forgive us for the prior statements Councilors. I'm Captain Tonya Rogers, this is Colonel Nicholas Fury, our esteemed Sorcerer Supreme Dr. Conrad Verner, and uh, Dr. Victor Von Doom, ruler of Latveria."

Tevos felt herself relax slightly. At least one of them could function as a diplomat.

"Pleased to meet you Tonya, I am Councilor Tevos."

"I am Councilor Sparatus."

"And I am Councilor Valern."

And with a slight smile on her face, Tevos spoke again.

"Welcome to the Citadel."

And with that being said, the moment was complete. Or it would have been if Conrad hadn't spoken.

"Hey, do you guys have a toilet around here. Being Sorcerer Supreme doesn't exempt me from urinary action, if you know what I mean."

Tonya Rogers palm quickly collided with her face in a quick motion, developed by constant practice through being around Conrad.

"Goddamnit."

And thus came the statement that would be used to describe the next five years.

In the year 2154, the citizens under the Council suffered a rude awakening when they were assaulted by strange foes beyond imagining, and were aided by mighty allies, who operated beyond reason.

The civilizations of the galaxy called this event the most unexpected discovery of all time.

The humans called it Tuesday.

JUST ANOTHER TUESDAY